(is not free)

Both

awesome and

devastating

to the human spirit,

it’s potential rooted

in man’s nature.

The core element

of Love

and natural selection

often bartered

for gain.

In it’s purest form,

a rainbow promise

from G-d

to Creation’s

highest order:

the catalyst

moving our hearts

from self centered

devotion

to paths of life

directed

by G-d’s Will

and Grace.

jfrancis©

august 17, 2003

I stand and see

one small ray

of the brilliant majesty

of His glory

where no man

has beheld

the face of G-d

or the brilliance

of His being,

though

he has revealed

Himself

in his word

which lights the world

through personal light

of each believer

until we see

the full Nova brightness

of His purity

reflected

from the Bride

of His choice.

jfrancis©

august 10, 2003

Ultimately

the Grand Divide

between

right and wrong

life or death

white or black,

where all shades

are never white,

and sin is always,

Choice.

jfrancis©

august 10, 2003

The Lamb

(of life)

Nature’s symbol of gentleness

and G-d’s choice for sacrifice.

We follow in willingness

a Shepherd blameless

who created the stars

in darkness of void

and gave us

the Living Alternative.

jfrancis©

august 31, 2003

The Journey

(toward happy)

Life is not happiness

but a chasing of the winds

####### it to and fro

since creation to eternity,

clothed

with flesh and blood

of reality,

passion’s summer child,

autumn’s declining decadence,

winter’s sobering hope.

Two labor the vineyard,

one is taken,

another pleads the way

to eternal happiness.

jfrancis©

septmeber 7, 2003

From the majesty of His,

to our Shepherd’s sheep

marking stone

of Jerusalem streets,

the Heart of G-d

is well worn by prints

of novice and saint.

From Gethsemane,

across Kidron

to Golgotha’s rocky barren

no other city

bears the name of G-d

with a cup of trembling.

jfrancis©

september 14, 2003

(parfum of life)

For most

a surface veneer,

obscuring the multiplicity

of human existence.

Mixed and mingled

with spirit,

magnifying each facet

of inward light,

it becomes

a diamond essence,

both brilliant in light

and gathering

in softness

of evening starglo.

Beauty is a fragile story

woven into the fabric

of body and spirit;

told in youth

by the freshness

of autumn’s

cleansing breeze,

in aging

as spent blossoms

falling among thorns

are gathered and distilled

into the fragrances

of life

and it’s loves.

jfrancis©

september 14, 2003

(the poem)

G-d is real and accessible.

He came to us

walking on the waters

of Galilee,

bringing Peace

to the wild wave,

stilling

the willing wind,

taking power

from the lightning.

Now,

a sea in rage

suddenly calm

at His word:

a placid pool

a Sea of Grace,

a great light

shining into the darkness

where death

had casts it’s shadow.

Salvation

on the wings of Light.

jfrancis©

september 27, 2003

Captured Captives

(the sequel)

. . . . . . . . . yearning

to be free, and peace.

Freedom is : no enemy

standing at the gates.

and peace, swords

to plowshares.

Today’s reality:

prison bars

of rocky sand,

walls of hyssop land

and at the gates,

enemy stand.

The world our warden,

it’s nations our guards.

The Judge of all creation

gavels the bench,

reads the verdict:

confinement-

till Armageddon.

Then

freedom for the captives,

release of prisoners,

comfort in Zion

for all who mourn,

a crown of beauty

instead of ashes,

a garment of praise

not despair,

a planting of oaks

for his splendor.

A double portion

of everlasting Joy---

Yet a short time

then peace

will flood the land

turning blood

to whitest snow.

Shalom. jfrancis(c)Isaiah(61)

september 28, 2003

MASADA.

Roman Achilles

in the eagle’s nest.

Nine hundred sixty Jews

aged to infant

locked

on a mountain of peril

near the sea of Sodom

where Rome’s legion

meets the Zealot’s zeal

as waiting night fills

Israel soil with dread.

Songs of Zion spill

over walls of victory still:

Masada and iron will,

where choice

to live or die

was cast

by hearts yeaning

freedom and peace,

and hearts still . . . . . .

jfrancis(c)

september 21, 2003

(G-d)

He is Spirit and intellect

(from whom darkness fled).

Creator, Lover, Shepherd, Judge.

Author of freewill,

a Pandora’s box

of Truth and tragedy.

The Great Architect

of cosmic drama

who desires

an intimate

personal relationship

with each person

through His Spirit/Son.

Dove of Peace

Lamb of life.

jfrancis(c)

september 16, 2003

New

Hidden

within the human spirit,

G-d’s Spirit dwells,

enriching the soil

of personality

choice

behavior-----

unseen

in the visible realm,

save for footprints,

telling the story

of an old life

left behind.

jfrancis©

october 19, 2003

Perfect

Not a concept

well examined

by the human race,

nor enjoyed by any

save the trilogy

of creation’s couple

and Son of G-d;

the former impaled

on freewill,

the latter pierced

by sin

releasing perfection

for flow down

at the foot

of sacrifice

spreading

over terra firma

encircling earth

to return full circle

from all nations

the chosen

called homeward

from rebellion

for the perfecting

of His kingdom

and His people.

jfrancis©

october 3, 2003

The Stain

(of humanness)

The Garden.

Creation place

of life,

freewill,

choice,

blood stained soil

and sacrifice.

A panorama

of historic drama

played out

in near perfection;

till sin enters

the human race

and all creation.

Oh, the plan for man

had not earth’s fall

slashed history’s canvas

of color and light,

reducing it to

the somberness

of black

and all shades

of gray.

Oh, the wait

for purity

of white and light.

jfrancis©

november 9, 2003

As Seeds to the Wind

Scattered.

Sown to the soils

of preservation,

falling on stony

and sparse ground,

roots growing deep

into dirt of persecution.

Dispersed among nations

for winnowing

at the threshing floor

of G-d’s Lovingkindness.

A Diaspora as none other,

two thousand years

and countless generations

living, dying and buried

in strange dry valleys

where hope lies parched

and bare.

Waiting.

jfrancis©

november 2, 2003

The cattle

on a thousand hills

are mine.

Should you

not recognize ownership?

Should you

not see the word

before your eyes?

And yet

only a few do.

All birds

on the mountain

know his care

in the warmth

of breaking light

upon their nest.

Should you not recognize

the tenderness

in His discipline,

even yet?

Where

are my people, Israel?

jfrancis©

october 24, 2003

The span of man

from Abraham

to Melchizedek,

past ancient ruins

of kingly power

laid waste

by idol cakes

is but a line or two

of grief laid down

on the way

through Eden

to yesterday.

If history is proof

of naked need

for Grace outside ourselves,

then Peace

and a Prince Perfected

bring the world a name

we can ill afford to face

under Heaven’s

judgment place,

in Hebrew called

Armageddon.

jfrancishill©

october 22, 2003