A Kiss

A Kiss

By Steve Loggins

10/9/2014

To kiss the face of one who loves us with unfailing love,

Is a privilege of the highest sort, a gift from God above,

A lover’s kiss can mean the world, a mother’s kiss can soothe

A stranger’s kiss is not comfortable, away from it we move,

But to kiss the face of Jesus, is a privilege none can claim,

Except for Judas Iscariot, betrayal is his fame.

It seems so strange that a kiss should be the signal of that deed,

It makes you wonder how it worked to fulfill God’s prophecies.

A kiss should be a sign of love, affection, and of joy,

Instead of darkened deeds of lust, a kiss should not destroy.

To kiss the one who loves us all for a purpose dark and bad,

Is an affront to love’s own dignity, it makes the viewers mad,

To think that such a simple act could set in motion death,

To the lover of the kisser’s soul, to the one who paid our debt.

I’m just a foolish writer, with a modest intellect,

But even I can tell you, that a kiss should never wreck

A person’s life, a person’s home, a person’s livelihood,

But a foolish kiss can do it, a kiss misunderstood.

So take your care to kiss the ones who love you in return,

And never with a motive that other’s can’t discern.

Moonlight through a Stained Glass Window

8/13/14

I opened my eyes to see a blurred image on the floor,

Confused at first, I had to think, I needed to know more.

It was just the moonlight shining through my bedroom window panes,

A window made of colored glass, a window that’s been stained.

It hit me then, the compilation that those factors made,

Reveals to me my character, of how I have betrayed.

I am the moonlight shining down, a reflection of The Son,

I am the glass that’s stained by sin, fractured and redone.

But most of all, I am the blurred image of God’s grace,

It is no wonder others toil to see His Loving Face

 In me.

Carpe Diem

Carpe Diem

Horace, poet of ages past, reminds us "seize the day",
Make the most of life before we die and fly away,

The Talmud also goads us "if not now, then when"?
Instilling in us an urgency of living now, not then.

Those who choose the creed of pleasure or fulfillment in one's work,
Are doomed to disappointment, both fail to be enough

For the day is short and full of pain, or joy, or something else,
A dullness creeps within the vale, the golden moment melts

Like ice in boiling water, it vanishes and dies,
our life is but a vapor, says the preacher, over lies

That today is all we have to live, so live it without care,
A trap that is, of making much of temporary fare.

There is a Day Eternal, where time itself stands still,
We seize that day through faith in God, according to His will.

Poets die, and so do all who try to seize the day,
but there's a Cross outside of time, seize it to live always.