Weathering the Storm

Rain Sun Roof
Weathering the Storm
By David De Jong

Weathering the storm
Till the sun decides to shine
Holding on to hope

Time seems to stand still
Yet the clock sticks to its task
Pressing on ahead

Even through the night
The storm navigates its way
Spending bursts of light

Cold dampness surrounds
Sheltered anxious inner panes
Yearn to be unlatched

Swift-flowing creeks
Swelling river embankments
Cleansing dried up shores

Trees begin to lean
Earth losing its mighty grip
Strength is laid to rest

New paths are molded
Etched in freshly planted fields
Scars ‘til harvest comes

Gray masks over light
Obscured daylight blue confused
Pleading sun’s return

Saturated earth
Over abundantly blessed
Filling all its stores

The old heron stands
Defiant in his domain
Fishing for his chance

Green takes liberty
Adorning its many shades
Hiding winter’s way

Abundant new growth
Awaits its moment of grace
Patiently in peace

New moss grows freely
Over bare forgotten trails
Covering old wounds

Puddles wait their turn
Searching for a beam of light
Heaven’s reflection

Green pastures resting
Planted seeds bursting with joy
Hope has taken hold

Bud and blossom burst
Triumphant beauty displayed
Thankful for the storm

Remind us gently
Blessings seen from darker days
Yield the brightest light


By David De Jong

Lowly bloom thriving among ruse of perfection
Meek tonic herb of medicinal concoction
Reflecting beams of sunlight, never mistaken
Gift of prize given to mothers by small children

Infallible yet rejected, neglected, disdained
Attacked with fierce vigor, alienated, un-maned
Trampled underfoot and ignored but still resolute
A blossom in the garden of common refute

Scattered over the earth by a whimsical wind
Unlimited destination, of where it will end
A delicate spirit, carefree, elated with ease
Sophisticated yet modest, endearing to please

Reflective of purpose, given each living soul
Giving beauty to life, taking time to console
Standing out in a world complacent to offense
Quietly, in its own way, making a difference

Bloom where you are planted, let your wishes catch the wind
Be who God created, cast away what you pretend
Brighten the day of a child, a friend to one in need
Pause to see the beauty in what some would call a weed

Who Am I


Who Am I
By David De Jong

Who knows the intricacies of my heart
The thoughts I have hidden and keep apart
The shame and discomfort of misdone deeds
Regrets and misery for unsown seeds

Who knows the dreams and aspirations still
That stir my soul and my brain seems to fill
Retreat and wonder, still waters by green
Pastures and forest with meadows unseen

Who can explore these things and still hold fast
Draw me closer in and not let me past
Walk beside in solitude yet not slip
Pick me up and carry me when I trip

Who could pull my soul from its mired pit
Bring my eyes to see with mere clay and spit
Open my heart to love that’s been redeemed
Allowed me to see what I never dreamed

A love more true than any truth as known
Gifts more precious than any love has shown
A heart more pure than any man could show
Grace more giving than any man could know

Who could love enough to take all my hell
Return to make it known that all is well
Who could this be but my Lord Jesus Christ
Who paid my debt of unpayable price

How can I measure in His vast estate
And all the wonder he spoke to create
Just a mere speck in a world set apart
Where his love shines down and sustains my heart


Cross Sunset 3

By David De Jong

Easter is Hope
Hope that this
Cross we bear
Up some hill
We cannot see past
Overwhelmed with
Fear and exhaustion
To the point
We no longer
Can carry on
Carry this cross

Until God
Steps in
In the form
Of a friend
Family member
Sometimes a
Complete stranger
They help carry our burden
This cross we’ve been dragging
They pick it up
Give us a different
Walk beside us
Even if
To death

We all
Have had our own
Crosses to bear
But we all
Have had our own
Stones rolled away
We all
Have had our own
And some
Are still coming
When the cancer
Is gone
When a loved one
Returns home
When a child
Is born

Yet none
Can compare
To the hope
We see
In the Easter
Of all time
When Jesus Christ
Took all our sins
Our very own cross
And carried them
To hell
Where they belong
And left them

The ultimate burden
The ultimate cross
To endure
Has been forever
By our Savior
Jesus Christ

Easter is Hope
Easter is Healing
Easter is Life
Easter is Love
God’s Love



By David De Jong

Pillars of this open sanctuary
Old cottonwoods and maples raise the sky
The creek circles back for a better view
Giving meaning to a heavenward sigh

A distant red-head, drums a piercing beat
Calling for rev’rence as the anthems raise
Chickadee and meadowlark take their cue
Singing their chorus to this joyful praise

While the robin presents its shy reply
A red-wing black bird gives a rolling trill
New budded branches, play strings to the wind
And the blue jay calls for all to be still

Rippling water comforts old resting stones
Reverbing an ambience so superb
Words serve no purpose, simple inner groans
Speak more than incompetent verbal blurb

All creation clamors to its places
And in one accord take their knee to pray
Providing blessed assurance to this peace
As the sun returns for another day

While they present their Maker, grandeur praise
I stand in awe this grand sanctuary
And contemplate in a remorseful way
If I give God glory, as it should be

Mystical Fog

Morning Fog

Mystical Fog
By David De Jong

Meanderin’ through mystical fog
An ol’ cowpoke and his trusty dog
Searchin’ for strays and doct’rin’ the sick
Coverin’ old wounds needin’ a scratch or pick

Surroundin’ fog with its somber charm
Somehow comfortin’, oddly warm
Like a blanket wrapped in tenderness
Settlin’ worries, erasin’ stress

Speakin’ softly in his calmin’ tone
The cowpoke assured, he’s not alone
He hears a whisperin’ in the trees
The brush of feathers, angelic breeze

Unable to speak yet still explain
Branches shed tears for the sorrowed pain
Solemn drops shatterin’ on the ground
Humble offerin’s, simply profound

Somehow peace, alleviates the soul
On this damp an’ dreary, mornin’ stroll
The Creator’s magic never fails
Inspirin’ hope along these trails

Step after step they all trod along
Listenin’ to angels sing their song
An ol’ cowpoke and his trusty dog
Meanderin’ through, mystical fog

Clear Path

Clear Path

Clear Path
By David De Jong

Who can we determine as beautiful, peering through our masked facades
Who can we call conventional, while scrolling our glass tablets and pods

What makes us believe we’re better, looking at life through our polished lens
What makes us deny we’re capable to commit the very same sins

Where is coincidence, in a world run with technological bots
Where can we find freedom, within covert strategies and secret plots

How can we demonstrate compassion, when our homes are filled with crude hate
How can we rid cruel starvation, when food is spilling off our plate

Who can we call mighty, while we submit to our celebrity gods
Who can we distinguish unrighteous, while we walk where the devil trods

What can we call true, when our self-judgement lies to our self-centered minds
What can we call false, when our eyes and ears hide behind narrow blinds

Where can we serve full justice, when our hearts are ruled by wanting conceit
Where can we triumph victory, while the destitute sleep at our feet

How can we perform this symphony, when we play a different chord
How can we call ourselves holy, when we place our thrones, above our Lord

What makes us think our souls are different, than any other on earth