Though each is duty bound his
Struggle to subdue
His lesser self,
Base nature to undo
Set forth a better man
One bound to Truth,
Though honor may become him
Noble character be gained
Able to love,
Perfection will remain
Until that coming day
Beyond his grasp.
Copyright 2017. L.L. Shelton.
From Speedwell to Fat man and Little Boy
From islands to Home of The Free
From settlement to colony to nation
From Southampton to busy D.C.
From zeal to confess to zeal to progress
All things do seem to suggest
All spawned by similar interest.
Copyright 2011. L.L. Shelton.
A wordsmith I am
I craft the seas
That sometimes threaten
To swallow me
Tumultuous and gray
Undercurrent through clay
A wordsmith I am
I rise up to see
Golden orb spinning
Winking at me
Copyright 2011. L.L. Shelton.
There is a community
As yet remains unseen.
It flows through every particle,
Each quark and every string,
Exists as well in every cell
Of every living thing.
When once it is identified
I imagine all will sing,
By the presence of His Holiness,
His universes Most High King,
Alpha, Omega, God of all,
Eternal praise we bring!
Copyright 2011. L.L. Shelton.
We humans are a funny lot,
We throw God around
Where He is not.
We use His name as we see fit,
He sees all
From where He sits.
We make Him up as we go,
Paste His name on books and shows.
We make up our theology,
We suit ourselves
While He,
Plots His return- our destiny.
Copyright 2017. L.L. Shelton.
Please do not insist that we remove every reminder of our struggle to be who we ought. Leave us traces of our wrong-doing in the form of art. Let some things stand to help us to recollect who we do not want to be and wish we never had been. These are fine artifacts as they exist to teach; to show us a history we hope never to repeat.
Perhaps in our desire to do away with every unpleasant memory we may do ourselves and our posterity great harm. What if the Bible is truth and its explanation of wickedness beginning in us, originating in human beings of each and every color is accurate? What then if there is nothing to bring this truth to mind? Would we not be destined to replicate many difficult and painful lessons should be already learned?
Let us think carefully before rendering our past free of hard things. For memory is not restricted to the past; it exists also to inform the future, and to ignore this aspect of memory, to relegate this valuable tool of the mind to a place of obscurity is a fool’s game.
Rather, let us stare appalled. Let us gaze aghast at these moments in our corporate story and at similar happenings in our individual stories, and let us fall to our knees and beg God to help us to come to healthy terms with the knowledge, and with ourselves, that these hideous and contemptuous events may never again occur.
Copyright 2017. L.L. Shelton.
How is it that the soul is stirred
Blurring those definitive lines
Of our hands?
Is it done at command of that Wind,
Wind that burned lines of His own
In stone?
What is this then that He demands
Of impassioned clay,
That it lay
Still and restful in His plan?
Copyright 2017. L.L. Shelton.
Six full moons
My soul has raged
Astounded at the level
Of my pain
Considered every aspect
Of this loss
Breathing grief
Angry at the cross
Hoping hard
To drown my sorrow
My strange companions
Simply rise tomorrow
Maybe never
Paid a greater price
Made so large
A borrowed sacrifice
Finally
In joy surmise
Find it’s morning
Wake as your surprise
Woman’s loss now recognized
In the eyes of a child
Discover strength
Again beguiled.
Copyright 2017. L.L. Shelton.
You are kind,
Beyond all I conceive.
Often I am blind,
Yet you always see.
You keep me occupied
With all that pleases.
When I am weary,
On my knees,
You are there to comfort me.
Copyright 2017. L.L. Shelton.
A mountain towers over me
I curl into a pebble
Slip into the spring
Get lost along the bottom
Water crystal clear and cool
Seeks to cover me
There I rest.
A storm cloud gathers round me
I blend into the breeze
Slip between the trees
Get lost among the leaves
Raindrops large and fresh
Splatter round about me
There I rest.
A raging sea lies before me
I fold into a violent wave
Slip down to the sandy floor
Get lost between the grains
Silence quiet and still
Beckons me
There I rest.
Copyright 2017. L.L. Shelton.