Category Archives: Poetry

Today’s Poem

…I will tell of all your wonders. Psalm 9:1b

My days pass swiftly. They are filled with joy and sadness, confidence and worry, victory and defeat. But each day, each moment, is purposeful, never meaningless, and worthy of consideration.

Dear Reader, grant me that each day is poem-worthy, a gift from God and deserving of our attention. And then, pray to the Giver of days for the right words and the imagination to express the wonders of everyday life.

TODAY’S POEM
by Terrie van Baarsel

Each day begets a poem:
An open window
A raised eyebrow
The fellowship of the saints.

Each moment speaks its cadence,
Lives its own existence
And then,
Travels inescapably to legends past.
Meekly, sometimes wearily,
But surely nonetheless.

Now, recite to me the poem, young ones!
Where will the flight of fancy
Carry you today?
What far-off lands
And winged remembrances
Ascend on strange dilemmas and delights?
Will barren diversions
Or concerns of the hour
Quash the timid play of words?

Or will the day’s poem emerge
A limerick or a dirge?
A sonnet or free verse?
Listen closely!

When shadows grow long
And dreams come whispering.
There hang the words
Warm, like sun ripened plums.

Pick them.

plums


Friendship: A Gracious Gift From God

TO MY FRIEND
by Terrie van Baarsel
To while away the hours with a friend
And mark the shadows lengthening again,
‘Tis sweet familiarity that dares
To furtively unveil the mystery there.
Now speak and trust another seeks your best
Or pause and peacefully remain at rest
Where cords of hope hold fast security
And tested true, in time, bear certainty
To find when mist and gray turn into rain
Safe harbor in another’s strength again.
There sheltered, anchor steadfastly and stay
‘Till sun breaks through and steals the clouds away,
And reminisce discovered treasures past,
Reflecting futures clearly seen at last,
That presently reveal God’s plan to be
That He has graciously given to me
My friend.


The Open Hand

You open your hand; you satisfy the desire of every living thing.  Psalm 145:16

THE OPEN HAND

by Terrie van Baarsel

Drinking deep of deadly lies
Blind and dead to His good will
Had He not plucked me from the mire
I would be left in darkness still.

What antidote to crushing debt
Was freely giv’n by God’s own Son!
No need had I t’was left unmet
Once sin’s power had been undone.

That God would do what I could not!
That God could do what I would not!

That God would hide my life in Christ
And calm my soul so prone to fear
Then satisfy my heart’s desire
By loving me and drawing near!

Oh, the open hand of God
That opens freely and of Grace!
No clenched fist, no iron rod
No punishment meets upturned face.


Pleasures Pure

PLEASURES PURE
by Terrie van Baarsel

Rain-1686

Rain-1686 (Photo credit: pomranka)

I want to go where hearts are beating
Where time is short and life is fleeting
Where laughter dares and cheeks are ruddy
And children sing and boots are muddy
From delightful rousing romps through rain
That end in warmth of hearth again.

I long to rid my heart of worry
Take my time and never hurry
Stroll through orchards born of earth
Grown from seeds of truest mirth
Pluck ripe fruit and bite right in
And let sweet juice run down my chin.

I want to drink of love’s new wine
So deep and rich in taste, divine!
Then toast the hues of morning sun
And never being weary, run
‘Long winding paths through forest glades
‘Til shadows fall and sunlight fades.

Oh to dance in autumn leaves
Await the bite of winter’s freeze
And riding emerald springtime swells
Recall a child’s lost summer spells
Her mirrored dreams of salt and spray
Bright sea-kissed skies o’er holidays!

And yet, just to share a cup of tea
And gaze into the eyes of thee
Sing this moment’s carefree song
To trust ’tis here where I belong
Desiring naught but ties that bind
Secure and free at the same time.


Old Woman

OLD WOMAN
by Terrie van Baarsel

English: Portrait of old woman sitting by a wi...

English: Portrait of old woman sitting by a window. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The treasures of this world
Once held close
Are not so tightly clasped
Nor grasped
She wonders why they were once so important.

Years have fled
Paring down essential matters
Her history written
By a Sovereign Decree of Holy Love
And this is what stands out
Alone
Above the rest.

What stories she tells!
(While silent.)
What praises she sings!
(In the quietness of her affections.)
And to the God she once trusted
She extends her hands
And yet trusts.

She is almost there
And does not lose heart
She is almost home
And Christ, the lover of her soul
Gives grace.

Dull eyes see farther.
Still lips speak clearer.
Weak hearts love harder.
Aged beauty is beauty still.
A lifetime of dreams
Lie dormant
Tucked neatly in folds of skin
But dreams rise again
When watered
By eternal springs of glory.

So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.
2 Corinthians 4:16-18


The Waiting

My Beautiful Daughter

I am the mother of three young adults, all in their early 20’s. I just found out this week that my “little girl” (22 years old, actually) is moving out of our home and will be renting a house with three of her girlfriends.

I’m excited for her.

I know that she will gain valuable life experience.

But, it’s still bitter-sweet. I’m thankful she is moving close by. I am thankful she works near by. I am trusting the Lord for her while she is not living under our roof.

My mind has been full this week, thinking about her leaving. I was reminded of a poem I wrote several years ago when I realized that the children we had raised were growing up. I’m sharing it with you here.

THE WAITING
by Terrie van Baarsel

Time is a deaf old man
Ignoring my pleas.

I can recall the years,
My fair-haired wonders,
When I had all the answers,
Or at least you thought I did.

Now,
The question hangs in the balance.
The past lingers,
Distanced and shadowed
Caught in dusty theatres
And pine needle blankets,
Held captive in story books,
Crushed in dandelion bouquets.
A rush of life
The memory of sweet kisses,
Life’s dreams and expectations
Cradled in regret,
Are soon set free
For hope’s sake.

Fixed is the mystery of Mother and Child.
The agony and joy of boundless love.

You no longer wait for me,
But run on ahead
And I retreat
And wish it were not so,
That you would turn ’round
And lend me your hand.
Move slower, more deliberate.

It’s not to be,
At least for now.
But, it does not matter
Because Maternal Love
Waits.


Circle of Grace

CIRCLE OF GRACE
by Terrie van Baarsel

Shall I there abide?
Yes, where rough sawn beams
Are sentinels of the message-
The Power of God! The Wisdom of God!
In the shadow of the cross
Near the One who died for me,
Son of God – Perfect in Righteousness
Who loosed my bands of guilt and sin…
Shout Freedom! Tremble Liberty!
Refuge from temptation,
Profound and dark,
Deep and still,
Beautiful,
Impenetrable, Divine,
From your depths a mystery-
The Blood of Redemption flowed
And soaked the ground, making it Holy.
Sacred Umbra penetrate
My soul, my heart, my mind
And kill my flesh, and kill my flesh.
O shelter cast of mercy,
Deliver me
From glittering madness
And cover me as a veil,
the Bride of Christ.


%d bloggers like this: