Wrestling Angels--being the first in a cycle of poems

I was sleeping alone in the desert
In the tiresome bed I had made
And my troublesome dreams bore no comfort
From the stone where my weary head laid

To myself I was wond’ring aloud there
How it happed that I’d be brought this way
But the thoughts that I pondered and found there
Had little or nothing to say

So I’m wrestling angels at twilight
And I’m hoping my vigor will last
But now all I can do is hold tight
And pray that the morning comes fast

Longing for the Sky

Within my heart there burns a fire
An ardent flame still seeking more
Eclipsing all I could acquire
Surpassing all I once adored

It burns to ascend ever higher
Until it learns to leap and soar
It changes thought and turns desire
And yearns to fly home to my LORD

When

When the time has come and then has passed
When the final day has arrived at last

When faults and failures fade away
When light is brought here by the day

When darkened glass is wholly broken
When unwritten words at last are spoken

When question’s answers count no more
When how we played outweighs the score

When guilt and strife trip and fall
When all is nothing and One is all

When we have failed and thus have won
When eastern sky reveals the Son

When all is seen that was afore
“When” shall not matter anymore

And Now (the remnants of a fleeting dream)

And now at last I find
My heart and soul are blind
To all I left behind

And now the world is sore
And now I long for more
It was not enough before

And now I carry on
Though hope is all but gone
It still infects my tone

And now questions matter less
And now I must confess
That I made my own mess

And now I leave it all
And now I humbly fall
And now I heed His call

And now my self is ended
And now my self is mended
And now I am befriended

And now my joy is full
I cannot tell the whole

Unsteady Wings

You promised me the wings of an eagle
If I would only trust what You say
So, why am I still weak and feeble?
And why have my dreams gone astray?

Perhaps I have answered my own query
Perhaps I already knew
Perhaps my wings quickly grow weary
So I never fly too far from You

So I will stretch out my wings like an eagle
As I try to avoid earthly things
Though they may not be lofty or regal
I am grateful for unsteady wings

What I Want

I want to know what I must say
And how it must be said
I want my voice to bring the day
My words to rouse the dead

I want my songs to quell the night
And open deafened ears
I want my pen to bring forth light
To still and waken fears

I want to search and then to find
The way I must prepare
I want to be lost in God’s mind
‘Til His will is my prayer

Confession of a Would-Be Lover

Maybe once in the beginning I claimed to be a prince
But I soon withdrew that bogus claim and haven’t made it since
And I wished for shining armor that would make me a brave knight
But I found it either too expensive or otherwise too tight
And I never had a charger or a white and well-bred horse
Nor have I fought a battle or led a well-trained force

And I know that I have failed you and not treated you aright
And no excuse will quite ring true, but I am not a knight

Perhaps in the initial days I claimed to have it figured out
But I now openly admit my great wisdom was in doubt
And I strived to be a philosophe, or a wise and learned man
But study, thought, and the lack of both thwarted my best plan
And I never met with Aristotle or tried to study Socrates
Nor have I learned from Plato, I have flouted all of these

And though I strived to devise truth, and not give in to lies
I fear I misadvised you, for I am not that wise

I suppose when I first met you I claimed to be a bard
But I soon discovered poetry comes unnaturally hard
And I tried to find artistic words and develop witty rhymes
But I soon found it a bother and would not give the time
So I never wrote a ballad, a limerick, or a verse
And I tried to write a sonnet once but it came out quite adverse

And even my confession here is not much to be heard
I make my profession clear: I am not that good with words

So, if the time has come and gone that I may apologize
I’ll tuck my tail between my legs and forget a second try
For, though I grieve that I have lied, and by deception lost you
It weighs more heavily inside, all that my lies have cost you
For I am not a knight, I am not wise, and I am not eloquent
And, in hindsight, I recognize that I left you no fair hint

But I thought the truth of who I am not worthy of who you are
For I am but a wealthless man, with naught to offer but my heart
So, now the truth is free and clear, and I present myself to you
It’s not what you deserve, my dear, but it’s the best this peasant can do