collab
Friday, April 2, 2021
My Peaceful Oasis
Philippians 4:7
And the peace of God,
which passeth all understanding,
shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.
Music by Dino Kartsonakis
ONCE WAS ENOUGH
ONCE WAS ENOUGH
CONCEIVED I WAS
IN UNFELT PAIN
I STARTED DESCENDING
LIKE DROPS OF RAIN
AND DOWN TO EARTH
AS A SWORD, I FELL
WHILE HEAVEN CRIED
AND SO DID HELL
I LEFT THE GLORY
AND FOUND THE DIRT
I TASTED LOVE
WHICH BROUGHT THE HURT
AND MY LIFE STARTED
TO BRING THE END
AND I CRIED, BLOOD STAINED
FOR WAYWARD MEN
MY MOTHER HELD ME
MY FATHER TURNED
MY MIND, REPLAYING
THE THINGS I'D LEARNED
AND ALL THE WHILE
THE SHADOWS GREW
AROUND THE BLIND ONES
WHO SAW THE TRUE
THE ONES WHO HATED
THE ONES WHO LIED
AND TORE MY GARMENTS
THERE AS I CRIED
THE PAIN I BORE THEN
NO ONE COULD MEASURE
NO MAN APPRAISES
THE THINGS I TREASURE
FOR IN THAT DARKNESS
I HUNG ALONE
AND PRAYED FOR STRENGTH
AND WEPT FOR HOME
EARTH SPLIT ASUNDER
THE HEAVENS RANG
BLIND EYES WERE OPENED
AND CHILDREN SANG
BUT IN THAT MOMENT
OF UNKNOWN DEATH
MY LUNGS EXPELLED
THAT MORTAL BREATH
AND I AWAKENED
IN CAVERNS DEEP
WHERE MEN RAN SCREAMING
AND DID NOT SLEEP
THEY KNEW MY NAME THERE
THEY KNEW MY FACE
THOUGH THEY'D NEVER SEEN ME
OR KNOWN MY GRACE
AND I BEHELD THEM
AND HUNG MY HEAD
WITH SORROW BURDENED
FOR THE TRULY DEAD
ACROSS THE CHASM
I SAW THE OTHERS
MY LOVED ONES, WAITING
MY FRIENDS, MY BROTHERS
THEY SAW ME COMING
THEIR HANDS, THEY RAISED
THEY DANCED IN JOY
MY NAME, THEY PRAISED
I TOOK THEM WITH ME
UP TO THE SKY
NO MORE TO SUFFER
NO MORE TO DIE
ASCENDING NOW
FROM THAT DESCENT
I FOUND THOSE TO WHICH
I HAD BEEN SENT
AND LIKE THE LIGHTNING
AND LIKE THE RAIN
THE GLORY FELL
AND HEALED THE PAIN
TO AN ANCIENT PLACE
AND ALL IT'S PLEASURES
I CARRIED ALL
MY EARTHLY TREASURES
AND MANY HUNGRY
FOR THE LOVE I GIVE
WILL BE TRANSPORTED
TO THE PLACE I LIVE
VESSELS OF LIGHT
WHO'VE KEPT THE VOW
WILL BE TRANSFIGURED
THOUGH CLAY FORMED NOW
AND COUNTLESS CHILDREN
LIKE GRAINS OF SAND
WILL LIVE FOREVER
WITHIN MY HANDS
WOULD I DO IT OVER?
THE DEATH FOR SIN?
A MILLION TIMES
I'D DIE FOR MEN
BUT THERE'S NO NEED
TO AGAIN, REBUFF
HELL'S POWER IS BROKEN
ONCE WAS ENOUGH.
©BY Voo
MAY 1, 2011
12:37 A.M.
during a storm
WITHOUT HIM
sung by Elvis Presley, my cousin
a beautiful song that was written
by my other cousin, Mylon LeFevre
when he was 17 yrs old..................
sung by Elvis Presley, my cousin
a beautiful song that was written
by my other cousin, Mylon LeFevre
when he was 17 yrs old..................
Hands of Fire
I took the fire in my hands
Blew upon the blaze,
Clasped it to my hungry heart
And upwards I did gaze.
My mind was full of worry
My soul was full of woe,
My body was a tired thing
That did not want to go.
But down within, my spirit man
Stood up and said goodbye,
Waved farewell to the slaves of hell
And every scheme and lie.
They didn’t want to let go
They screamed their angry screams,
They threatened to make nightmares
Out of all my dreams.
And though their threats were frightening
And my flesh fought hard to flee,
I didn’t let them see my fear
Or weakness within me.
I turned not to the right or left
I kept my face like flint,
I felt the fire consume me
Though I was not burned or bent.
The devils howled in terror
The demons crawled away,
But the fire they feared, that holy fire
Refined me there that day.
My flesh began to crumble
My soul sought to submit,
My spirit grew to ten feet tall
And my mind was awed by it.
No more a faithless, worthless worm
No more a dirty rag,
My inner man, the eternal me
Stepped out of that worn bag.
And as I stood and watched it die
My mouth began to praise,
My eyes began to see the plan
Designed in ancient days.
And all my soul was quieted
And all my heart was healed,
And all the false things in my life
Fell off and became real.
I burned and burned as I drank deep
Of the new wine in the cup,
I burned when I ate of the bread
And I did not burn up.
I walked the world in flames of fire
That shot out of my eyes,
My heart, a wounded thing made whole
That heard the whole world’s cries.
And even now, as I write this
I must, of God, inquire,
How can I hold this paper here
When my hands are on fire?
I long to lay them on the heads
Of lost and dying men,
To show them hope in hopelessness
And make them live again.
I want to im-part what I’ve learned
To unbelieving fools,
Share with them the joys of life
Equip them with new tools.
I need to take them to the well
And bid them to drink deep,
Break their chains of dark despair
And give them keys to keep.
I desire to give this holy fire
That burns now higher still,
To man and woman, boy and girl
And whosoever will.
I’d give my life for others
If others my life could save,
I’d pull them out with my own hands
From the coldness of the grave.
This fire that’s shut up in my bones
Bids me to preach and teach,
This fire in my heart and hands
Bids me to seek and reach.
I yearn to touch the untouchables
And make them clean and new,
Watch the dross burn out of the gold
May I share this fire with you?
©by Voo Shining Stone
Dreamer
Dreamer
Farther shores that exist in dreams
Call to his heart
Here in this life of complicated nonsense,
Old magazines, five dollar cups of coffee
And pop culture that mostly pops
But is not cultured.
When morning comes, he has not slept
But sits, still dreaming of a plan
To not make a plan
To be spontaneous in an unarranged
Detailed sort of arrangement
Hidden to the eyelids of the masses
And unheard of by the ears of conformed genius
Claiming idiots in their billionaire boardrooms.
Music? What is that? It is his life's blood
It is his heart's beat. It is his soul's rush
It is his life, his love, his touch from divinity
His sanity............................
Now and then he slips into the night, still dreaming
And down the streets in rhythm walking fast
And singing low, listening to the guitar in his head
The piano solo in his mind.
Writing words that come together of their own accord
And in the writing down of those words,
Healing himself in some sweet mysterious way
That nothing else can and that nothing else ever will.
He longs to be invisible but needs the world
To see him as he is
And what he is is a dreamer in a dreamless world
A tough and tender warrior in a place of tiny phones
And I-Podded computer generated popcorn pathos
Churned into a butter that won't melt and eyes that won't meet
And hearts that won't love and rain that won't fall
Until his hands touch those ivory keys and pluck those silver strings
That call out silently with their little voices, beckoning him back
No matter where he walks and no matter how far he runs.
The music calls him but it won't wait...............
It must be written. It must be played. It must be sung
Even if his heart is the only heart that ever hears it
Even if his tongue alone will taste the words
He is a dreamer and his music is the dream.
©by Voo
For Mark
you da man!
smile
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