Safe Harbor –

“Nothing external to you has any power over you.” 
Ralph Waldo Emerson
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The haven from which we draw peace is found not without but within. Circumstances change and environments produce storms, but if preparations are made in advance, the harbor’s climate is safe and steady. A harbor built before the hurricane provides a sure relief, but laboring to lay foundations in the pouring rain is frivolous. The place of refuge lays beyond the shores of feeling, away from circumstance. A master architect has drawn plans for this refuge and laid them open to all. Their hard to build, patience is needed, and much strength from beyond, but these are afforded to those who labor through dependence on the heavenly Father, a willing participant in building a safe harbor. When finished this will provide protection from the wailing winds and torrential rains of death, life, love, and circumstance. The first step in the process is an admission that help is needed and then an establishment of a relationship with the architect. Then follows conformation to His steps and a steady endurance to resist looking outward at the storms but inward to the work. There’s a peaceful place which provides an unchanging calm environment and it’s up to us to build it. Godspeed friend, there is much work to do here.
 First published in Opinionsofeye.com
 

Sanctuary

“You are my refuge, my sanctuary from everything that would harm me.”
Karen Essex,
Dracula in Love

 
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When from great heights
The fall comes and meets
When heroes are born
courage from hearts weep
With naught but hardy
Willed fate with grace
They smell the fragrance
Of victory’s place
After the battle long
Has raged in early morn
Is the grateful experience
Of sanctuaries born
A quiet in the fray
A desperate plea is found
The conquered now a victor
Standing on holy ground

Nemesis – Stalked From My Youth –

This poem depicts the spiritual entity that from my childhood, stalks me. I know him, he knows me, and the battle continues. I have one refuge, that of prayer. Wouldn’t you pray after seeing that the enemy’s power is far greater than your own? 


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Prowling, eyes alert, glowing red’s the sign 

That what stalks me, is a spiritual kind

All it’s attentions, frothing tongue a tell
 
With growls preaching, at me from hell
 
When it comes, the dark is it’s lair,
 
No matter where I go, it finds me there
 
Words of religion, it does completely despise
 
I’m never away, from those deep red eyes.

Related Post: Hour of the Wolf – Wrestling With 3 A.M.
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The Hermit Chronicles: Hounds

 “In this world of memories, there’s no need for strangers.” – Watsuki Nobuhiro
  “What greater thing is there for two human souls than to feel that they are joined – 
to strengthen each other – to be at one with each other 
in silent unspeakable memories.” – George Eliot
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I hear their cries of excited pursuit as they push their noses high in the air, hoping to sail on the scent of people long gone, caught on the thistles along the paths. Memories, they are the hounds that play along my side as I travel, howling in the night when loneliness stalks me and creeps its way into my tarpaulin refuge. They quietly dig at the unseen footsteps of my past loves when my bottle is near empty and the flames of company have faded to only the dull warm glow of afterthought. I love it when, in the mottled light of sunrise breaking through my shelter of branches, my faithful hounds nudge me with the wet nose of many mornings past. Those mornings when waking to fish my dreams from life’s rivers flowing gently past, I found that elusive “granddaddy”, and pulled it from the muddied water with a rush of victory and pleasure. My camp is filled with many of those that got away. This where my humble abode now sits, along those paw marked muddy banks, that disappear in the fog of today, ghosts of Then floating through Now. I see your quirky look as you wonder at my friends. You have friends like me, though they complain you don’t spend enough time with them, your fires of denial burning bright enough to chase them far away. Relax here in the warmth, lets let our friends mingle, they know how to make smiles and frowns dance with youthful vigor, and just the watching of it will make us tired enough to pass into the night with sweet sleep.

 

Before the Family Breaks

“I don’t know half of you half as well as I should like; and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve.” –  J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring
 
 


Carried on the wind of misunderstood words,
Dark armies of thundering adversaries now descend.
Little ones scatter under lightning insults,
Hail threats, and driving strife. 
Not much resistance
Before the family breaks.

See the clouds huddled in poised formation. 

Only minutes until the downpour begins. 
No amount of preparing can handle 
The flood of anger, the torrent of rage
That woefully conspire
When the family breaks.

Look In the blowing wind of change and see

Two shelters still remain, grace and clan. 
Withstanding the maelstrom, 
They set up a refuge and inspire unity, 
Calling us to band together, 
Before the family breaks.