Category: poetry

The Shepherds

Posted on by Susan Panzica
Maude Carolan Pych from my writers group is an extraordinary poet. Today’s selection shines a brilliant light on the shepherds, their lifestyle, and the encounter that would forever change their lives, and ours too! 


THE SHEPHERDS

Shepherds recline around the fire
Their long day’s work is done
The air is crisp, the sky is clear
they watch the setting sun

The sheep that grazed the fields by day
now safely sleep nearby
Men each take night-watch turns
to watch for wolves and foxes, sly

They eat some fish, some barley bread
drink water from the well
draw woolen blankets ‘round them, snug
they laugh and stories tell                           

Suddenly the calm is stirred
by singing in the sky
The shepherds lift their drowsy heads
What’s happening and why?

They can’t believe their ears and eyes
for what they hear and see…
a throng of shining faces, wings
snow white and fluttery!

The rugged shepherds tremble
The angels chant, “Do not fear…
We bring you tidings of great joy
all people need to hear

For unto you is born this day
in little Bethlehem—
swaddled in a manger, Christ
The Savior of all men!

Glory to God in the highest!”
sweet angel voices sing
“Peace on earth, goodwill to men”
They proclaim the newborn King!     

As the angels take their leave
the men vow in the morn
they’ll go to Bethlehem and seek
The Christ, the newly born

So with the rising of the sun
each with his staff and rod
the shepherds with their sheep set off…
Their quest, the Lamb of God

Arriving at the humble place
the angels sang about
they enter with resounding praise
and hallelujah shouts!

As the shepherds kneel, adoring
a spotless wooly lamb
approaches the lowly manger
and gently nuzzles the I Am

Maude Carolan Pych

This is a selection from Maude’s Christmas chapbook, From My Heart to Yours at Christmas…Cookies & Poems. Maude’s poems can also be found on her blog. 


Suddenly So

Posted on by Susan Panzica
Many thanks to Chris, a senior member of our writers’ group, for today’s poem. Chris has written, edited, produced for TV, print and Web. She is the author of Park Ridge by Arcadia Publishing and is writing her next book, White Plains, to be released in March 2012. Chris is on Twitter at Whatisupahead.



There a centurion’s servant, whom his master valued highly, was sick and about to die. … Luke: 7:2
The centurion said, “Lord, I do not deserve to have you come under my roof. But just say the word, and my servant will be healed. Mathew 8:8
When Jesus heard this, he was astonished and said to those following him, “I tell you the truth, I have not found anyone in Israel with such great faith. Mathew 8:10

Suddenly So

All it takes is a word. 

The Centurion knew it.

Key is never really 
finding ‘the one’ to wed,
or figuring the kids out,
or finding the right med….

It’s about asking God –
with faith – to say the word.
And it is suddenly so.

Connect the prayer 
to the result.
Not just saying
“Oh, we don’t need that prayer
anymore, everything righted ‘itself.'”
I met the right guy,
My kids turned out well,
I’m not sick after all……

Remember,
What you ask for,
And connect it,
To what happens.

When the next crisis hits,
Remember;
It’s not what I do.
It’s not who I know.

Am I asking with faith?
Am I believing it’s true?

All it takes a word.
The Centurion believed it.
And I believe it too.


—-
Chris provided me her thoughts on our poem writing exercise. They spoke to me, and I hope they will to you too:

The Centurion was a writing prompt. 
I’m not a poet. 
And I was thinking, “I have nothing to say…”
Wait, what do I really think about the Centurion?
What I really think is that I “get it,” what he meant…
always have. No crisis ever REALLY depends on circumstances.
It depends on the mercy of the Lord.
If He says so – it’s so.
He is so clearly pleased with faith. 
So top of my list?
Showing Him I believe.
What a relief that I don’t have to know physics to get on in life!
All I need is my faith – and to ask – knowing it just takes ONE WORD.

 

Three Days Ago

Posted on by Susan Panzica
Today’s poem come from fellow member of the North Jersey Christian Writers Group, Clare Cartanega. Clare writes faith based sci-fi, inspirational messages, short stories, and the occasional poem, all in devotion to her Creator. She has numerous articles published and is seeking publication for her sci fi novel. Her character Zerilius writes the blog Confessions of a Mega-Genious.

Three Days Ago

When we talk today,
His voice is not anguished with a plea that I stay awake;
His brow is not beading red with anticipated pain,
His heart not split with the stab of betrayal.

When we talk today,
His face is not marred with a torn beard,
His hair not tangled with broken thorns,
His back not burning with lacerated flesh.

When we talk today,
His mouth is not dripping with rejected sour wine,
His side not gaping with merciless curiosity,
His body not shamed without handspun robes.

When we talk today,
His perfection is complete in beauty,
His honor surrounding in a cloud of glory,
His evidence of three days before, the scars on His hands and feet.

Dear friends,
May you all have a glorious Resurrection Sunday as we rejoice in our risen Lord!

Why Is This Night Different?

Posted on by Susan Panzica
This week, I’ve been sharing poems written by members of our writers group at our meeting earlier this month. Today, I’m sharing mine.

Growing up in a Jewish home, I fondly remember our annual Passover seders. We weren’t a religious family, but the seder was a yearly tradition. I picture my mom’s sparkling table set with plates of gefilte fish (Yuk! Just what kind of a fish is a gefilte anyway?), the bowls of matzoh ball soup, brisket, and courses of other food I loathed. But then… it wasn’t about the food. Last year on this blog, I shared some signficant Passover traditions. [http://tinyurl.com/45xnvhq]

Today’s poem is based on one element of the Passover seder – The Four Questions. Technically it is one question with four answers. The question:

Ma nishtanah halailah hazeh mikol haleilos?
Why is this night different from all other nights?

With that thought, the following poem tumbled out my brain and onto my pad. It’s so far from polished (we only had about 20 minutes to write our poems) that I’m a little shy about sharing it, but we’re all friends, right? So here goes:

Why Is This Night Different?

Why is this night different?
What is not the same?
Tonight the Lamb, the Perfect One,
Would for me be slain.

So long ago in Egypt land
The people to be delivered
Chose a pure and spotless lamb
A sacrifice called the Passover.

Ten plagues of locusts, frogs, and blood
The last – their first born sons
All foretold the future of
When God’s Son, His triumph won.

Each spring, we stop to remember
At the Feast of Unleavened Bread
The pain, the loss, the suffering
And the One who rose from the dead.

Bruised and battered, striped and scarred
The Lamb was spent for me
So that after my debt was paid
He rose in victory.

Sweet communion, the bread and blood
He shared with those loved He
Partake my friends, Do not forget
Do this in remembrance of Me.

So what’s the difference tonight we ask?
Not that we recline
Or eat the herbs or drink the wine
Now salvation is forever mine.

PRECIOUS AND BELOVED LORD

Posted on by Susan Panzica
Today’s poem comes from Ann Crediford, another faithful member of the North Jersey Christian Writers Group.

PRECIOUS AND BELOVED LORD


Thank you
for your
purity,
grace,
and majesty when in obedience to your
father, you were willing to be betrayed,
rejected,
mocked,
spat upon,
beaten,
whipped,
nailed,
and pierced
for my sin.

Ann’s testimony:
I was an agnostic until middle-aged. I got saved in church, led by a very special pastor. Our teenaged daughters started attending a Bible church. Concerned about what that might be, I started going with them to check out the church. After many, many salvation messages, finally I believed. Now I attend an Assembly of God church in Wanaque, NJ. We have two daughters and four grandchildren who live in Rockland County, NY.

What Was God Doing?

Posted on by Susan Panzica
This month is National Poetry Month, and coincidentally (if you believe in that sort of thing) our writers group’s theme this month was poetry. Speaker Maude Carolan, poet laureate of our little band of scribes, presented a session that included her own extraordinary works, one of which I share with you today. Later in the week, I will share other poems that were written at the meeting. Because this month, we celebrate Easter, our assignment was to create a poem on that topic. While not quite Maude’s caliber, these poems [written in a half hour’s time!] were remarkable – amazing works that are unmistakably divinely inspired.

The Love of The Father – by Adam Ortiz

WHAT WAS GOD DOING?

What was God doing?
What was He thinking
high up in heaven
when the Great Climax was unfolding
and His only begotten Son was sweating hemorrhages of blood
in fervent prayer before Him, that night in the garden?

What was God doing?
What was He thinking
high up in heaven
when His Son was pleading
for the removal of that great Grail of suffering
yet in submission acquiesced to His Father’s higher will?

What was God doing?
What was He thinking
high up in His Heaven
during the sentencing and scourging, spitting and mocking,
as His Pascal Lamb carried the crude crossbeam to Calvary,
falling and falling and falling again?

What was God doing?
What was He thinking
high up in His Heaven
when they stripped His Beloved,
held His hand to the beam and lifted the hammer
and pounded the spike through sinless flesh?
Did He hold His ears? Did He turn away?
Did His tears pour down as the blood ran down?
Did he pound His fist? Scream?

What was God doing?
What was He thinking
high up in His Heaven
when His Son cried, “Why…hast Thou…forsaken Me?”
Victory was so close Did He almost change His mind?

What was God doing?
What was He thinking
high up in His Heaven
when it finally was finished?
Was His heavy heart throbbing
as He darkened the sky and quaked the dry earth,
opened old graves and breathed life into the dead?
was it with grief or great jubilation
that He tore asunder the curtain to the Holy of Holies?

What oh what was God thinking
at that climax of climaxes
with Satan and sin squashed under His heel,
and after the Ascension,
at Their glorious reunion,
did Father and Son
dance the Hora in Highest Heaven?

Maude Carolan

Maude Carolan Pych publishes a quarterly poetry e-newsletter, “It’s all about …The Lamb” for lovers of the Lord who also enjoy poetry. The purpose of this poetry letter is to magnify the Lamb of God, our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, and inspire an ever-deepening relationship with Him, the lover of our souls.

“Worthy is the Lamb that was slain to receive power and riches and wisdom and might and honor and glory and blessing.” Rev 5:12 NASB

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