A Type of Christmas

The snow falls down, pure and white
Bringing wonder and warmth to a cold winter's night
From heaven above to earth's humble face
A snowfall is winter's saving grace

The flakes bring life to a weary world
A gift of renewal for all is unfurled
Where once was filth, now purity reigns
The clouds bring hope as they blot out earth's stains

Like a snowfall, children are born
With peace, love, and joy, earth they adorn
They are pure and clean and free from earth's taint
Each is a masterpiece, ready to paint

This season, one child comes to mind
He gave sound to the deaf and sight to the blind
He came from on high with love's warm glow
I think of Him as I see falling snow

Love Them

When working with people, there's a truth you can't miss.
What is it? I'll tell you. The truth is this:

No matter what you may do or say,
If you don't love them, they'll go away.

"Wherefore, my beloved brethren, if ye have not charity, ye are nothing, for charity never faileth. Wherefore, cleave unto charity, which is the greatest of all, for all things must fail --

"But charity is the pure love of Christ, and it endureth forever; and whoso is found possessed of it at the last day, it shall be well with him."

Moroni 7:46-47

Growing Up

A reach, a stretch,

A crash.

A quest for the cookie jar has ended in spilled milk.
Isn't that interesting?
But there's no use -- well, you know.
Tears are unnecessary because a child is learning.
Next time, the help of higher hands will be sought.

Like the season's first practice,
The stakes, for now, are low.
They will rise, climbing steadily with our age.
Now, it's a broken jar,
But soon it could be a broken home, a broken life, or broken faith.

As mother and child clean up,
Mother hopes the lesson will stick.
She knows that a broom will not always be enough.
She's had her share of broken cookie jars,
So she hopes experience will teach.

But the child is not experience's only pupil --
Mother is learning as well.
Only now, her angle is different.
She now knows the hunger for asked-for help.
"So that's what my parents felt like."

We all know the feeling of parting with friends.
As they go, a resolve to love more comes in,
Along with a vow to be more involved.
What sorrow! if that were the end.
Mercifully, "next time" often comes around with us.

We would be wise to see the pattern in it all.
A merciful God grants us "next times" in this world,
Preparing us for an eternal world to come.

Breaking the cookie jar;

Feeling the pain of wanting to help, but being turned away;

Sorrowing when parting with friends;

All teach us so that we can be wise.
The gifts of understanding and perspective are precious,
And naturally, they come at a price.
Let's not waste them.

We can ask for help.

We can let God help us.

We can learn.

Isn't that beautiful?

Harvest

The leaves reach out - little hands
Ready to catch the rain, or my eye

Autumn is here, and with it
Comes a harvest of love and pumpkin pie

Family gathers from afar
The conversations are colorful, like the leaves

Weather is brisk, hearts are warm
A happy family harvests love in sheaves

Hello friends! I'm sorry for my long absence. It's good to be back! I would like to thank you all for your support and for taking the time to read some of my poems. Over and out (until next time).

Hold On

The water may be rough,
And the wind may chill
But if you'll just hold on,
Soon the sea will be still

When the darkness is thick,
It's hard to be brave
But the dawn is breaking
Behind the next wave

"And he arose, and rebuked the wind, and said unto the sea, Peace be still.  And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm."

Mark 4:39

Scars

Every scar has a story
Whatever it may be
Great tales can be told as we study
The rings of the great oak tree

Scars become an archive
They remind us where we've been
As I survey my collection
The past becomes real again

Not all scars are visible
Some stay hidden inside
And remain secret, except to a few
In whom the bearer confides

I know of a set of scars
Older than the great oak tree
They serve as a sacred record
Of a price paid for you and me

Those scars call out to remind me
That whatever wounds I may gain
Because of the story behind those scars
My scars don't have to remain

Reflecting on a Reflection

As I look out at the moon from my window,

I realize this world is actually beautiful; 

I am actually very small;

And someone actually cares.

This life is full of wonder.

"...All things denote there is a God; yea, even the earth, and all things that are upon the face of it, yea, and its motion, yea, and also all the planets which move in their regular form do witness that there is a Supreme Creator."

Alma 30:44

Portable Sunshine

How do you stay bright when everything goes wrong?
Carry the sun in your pocket, I suppose
How is this possible? you might well ask
Let me tell you what keeps away my woes

I rely on someone who's been through it all
He always knows just what I need
He's felt every pain and He knows every balm
From every trap He knows how to be freed

What about carrying the sun in your pocket?
That would sure make your life glow
My faith in my Comforter burns with a radiant heat
And it's with me wherever I go

So I can press on through the darkest of caves
Because the Creator of the sun has declared
That through storms and hardships of every kind
He will not leave me alone, comfortless, or scared

Sometimes as a missionary, life is hard. I'm confident this is not just a "missionary problem". Everyone will weather their fair share of storms. That is simply a part of life. What we can choose to do is to have faith. I have found that when we approach challenges armed with faith, we can get through whatever adversity comes our way. I've learned to trust in a simple promise made by Jesus Christ: "I will not leave you comfortless: I will come to you." (John 14:18).

Perspectives on a Rainstorm

All is perfect, or so it would seem.
The elements of the ideal outdoor feast are in place.
Blanket? Check. Sandwiches? Check.
And the flowers are stunning today.
But,
We have a problem.
The clouds are looking dark and inconvenient.
Rain.
Our distressed picnic-er looks up with dismay.
Ruined.

Just feet away, a flower is curious.
Our picnic-er storms off, matching the gathering clouds.
"Where is he going? Why would he leave?
"The best part is about to begin."
Thirst.
That's no longer a problem.
Flowers need the sun and the rain.
Balance.
Our flower looks up with joy.
Life.

"So much in life depends on our attitude. The way we choose to see things and respond to others makes all the difference. To do the best we can and then to choose to be happy about our circumstances, whatever they may be, can bring peace and contentment."

President Thomas S. Monson

All in One, One in All

When I was born with a head of felt,
God gave me a utility belt

This wonderful gift means so much to me
It has a name -- family

I hope you don't misunderstand
My family has eyes, hearts, and hands

It's in using these God-given faculties
That my family does it all for me

My brothers have filled my life with joy
They give the gift of love I so often employ

And though we didn't always get along,
Their lives, to me, are the sweetest of songs

Sometimes in life, we push light away
With my sister around, the light's here to stay

Mom is a world-class problem-fixer
Her homemade bread is heaven's elixir

My dad brings the fun -- he rocks out and wrestles
We chase off the blues with a surf at Trestles

When plans fall through and friends aren't around,
Family movie night begins, and love abounds

And when my own prayers don't have enough faith,
My parents' pleadings keep me safe

I've grown up, and they have, too
But they're still with me in all that I do

My family will always stick around
Mom, Dad, Brother, Sister -- how sweet the sound!

       My family is happy because we live by this.

The Guide

The morning is crisp and fresh and pure

A peaceful breeze floats softly by

This must be the most beauty a mind can endure

A trail ahead catches my eye

So I embark with no sure direction

I just know I must move ahead

The train dropped me off and I missed my connection

So I'll explore this place instead

As I round a bend, there emerges a man

He's sitting quietly under a tree

He jumps to his feet like he has a clear plan

He calls out, "Come, follow me."

Whether my heart or my feet choose to join him

I don't think that I can be sure

A force stronger than chance and deeper than whim

Tells me I'm safe, whate'er may occur

"Storms often pass through here," he tells me

"But if you follow me, you'll be fine."

His words are quiet and strong like the sea

I trust in his feet more than mine

We walk along, side by side

And all the world is light

The bumps in the road seem more flat with this guide

All blindness has yielded to sight

But rocks in the road begin to appear

The path rapidly grows more steep

Each step I take becomes less sincere

My trust begins drifting to sleep

I see another path, so I slip away

I decide I can travel alone

"This path will be better and easier," I say

I put on a face like a stone

For the first few miles, I get along fine

The occasional rock is ignored

But I can't ignore the clouds in the sky and my mind

And I'm stumbling more than before

Sure enough, the rain starts to fall

And my spirits are doing the same

Sorrow and darkness become a cold, heavy shawl

I long to hear my guide call my name

Pride pushes my aching feet forward

I arrive at the edge of a cliff

Below lies the ruin of a thousand great songs never heard

Because lives were set adrift

I see the depth of my mistake

It's forward to ruin or back

I sit down and weep, for surely, I'm too late

To regain the company I lack

I long to return, but don't know the way

I'm in bondage and long to be free

I turn, and through tears, I see the sun at noonday 

My guide calls, "Come, follow me."

"Then spake Jesus again unto them, saying, I am the light of the world: he that followeth me shall not walk in darkness, but shall have the light of life." 

John 8:12

Letters and Prayers

A family on earth
And a Father above
Both are far from view

Both reach out
And span distance with love
And my troubled heart renew

A letter arrives
I break open the seal
And love envelopes me

If I will be still
And humbly, thoughtfully kneel
My heart feels what eyes cannot see