God’s poetry is written in the rocks
God’s poetry? Of course. The Word is God
Come listen to the way the landscape talks
Come hear the Word; come listen and be awed.
High verse is thus composed by God for man
High verse is how God touches hearts and minds
Poetic beauty justifies God’s plan
When man forgets God’s work, high verse reminds
High verse is made of words we understand
Its beauty is revealed in works we see
Like pinnacles and arches that are grand
Like mountains raised by God for you and me
And thus, by art, the holy landscape talks
God speaks the word with metaphoric rocks.
I feel the plates and screws beneath my scars
Securing bones that ripped and tore my skin
Like hardware one might find on bikes or cars
Without the need to show the strength within
Within my leg, titanium was placed
Although it hurt like hell for months and weeks
The pain is less than pain at first I faced
Although the scars are still, their silence speaks
My silent scars are history, engraved
Of how my skin was ripped and torn by force
They also show the way my foot was saved
So I could walk and run again, of course
And still I battle silent scars, unseen
Where rips and tears are seldom ever clean.
Iwo Jima Memorial
The red is for the hearts, both brave and true
That beat like drums from sea to shining sea
At times they cross the seas for me and you
To bring to others, ringing liberty.
The white is pure like freedom’s pure intent
Unmarked by any blemish, burn, or stain
It signals how it’s days are freely spent
In righteous winds no tyrant can restrain!
The blue is like the sky from which it waves
As waves of human hearts salute its strength
The strength in every human heart it saves
It waves a broad horizon without length.
From freedom’s heart it waves for me and you
It sanctifies us all: red, white, and blue.