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Sunday, May 29, 2016

Poem: “Thou Art Still Among Us”



Poem: “Thou Art Still Among Us”
By: Eric Gajewski
From the work, "Fortress of the Soul" 


John 1:14
And the Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us, (and we saw his glory, the glory as it were of the only begotten of the Father,) full of grace and truth.

Here is my latest poem from the work "Fortress of the Soul". Please enjoy and share.  At the end of the blog is a compilation of my poems, Ave Maria!

Press play and listen to the song as you read the poem

“Thou Art Still Among Us”



Do You Still Believe?
Sealed Soldier of Christ
Confirmed, who lives by the eagles creed
“More You, less me…”
For in You I live; in You I hope to be
And it is here my ship pauses upon thy Sea
Anchor-less, as I sail, without care, aimlessly
O’ I am free, indeed, interiorly
Falling always, trusting myself, into Love’s Arms, O’ holy Trinity!
Yet In this calm, unseen, I cannot help but to reflect silently
For in my ear, amidst the storm, the angels speak
Whispering, Within Love’s Walls,
In this Well which runs deep
It is here I find the Son in the Arms of Mary
For we art One…
In this bottom wherest Thy Living Waters flood
Which I call Home, found only by descending in humility
It is in all Thy Beauty which sparks forth to life
Holy Religion’s Testimony…
Impossible unto man but we have a God
Who has, for my salvation, before time even began
Weighed out every possibility…
It is Thee! This Fire beneath which descends
Upon the altar of my heart
And now as One, in this Holocaust, I breathe
Watching these Fiery Drops of Blood rain forth selflessly
Causing poor sinners to “slow life down” long enough to see
Yea, this is no dream…
For where His Flesh art, an Eagle hopes to be
And where and Eagle is found “hiding”
Assuredly, there he is seen, in Mary, Paradises Great Tree
Two, which become One, in spiritual marriage
Mind, heart, soul and Body….
For Thy heavenly Ray’s melt away my nature and will
With Thy Loving Eyes mystically…
O’ this heat! As I am laid naked upon Thy table as dough
Awaiting the feast but not before the yeast of suffering takes hold
And Is added unto me …
Praying, that my bread might rise high enough to give thee glory
Lo, for I was just a man seeking; a letter without address or any writing
But You stamped my heart gently and gave me a Home
And on Faiths road wherest Hope only knows
I found Thy Living Room called Charity…
As I sit to once again think
How thou wert condemned
That my eternal sentence might be relieved
And so, I fly away, for the shores of Thy Isle
Only to reopen my eyes, in You, to see
In solitude, all these faces of the needy
Fainting, I thence recall a life lived selfishly
Examining, I let my heart further drift into nothingness
For my awful lowness is seen in Thy Mirror
As I watch from my mind’s eye, over the entire world, You bleed
O Holy Suffering!
And with that being said I still take thy Seed, in humility,
Out into Thy rich Fields to plant
Only to later harvest, so that others, off of me, can feed
For, it is in Thy soil, called poverty, wherest grace frees
And thus, in the worn faces of the poor, I am reassured
That Thou art still today among us…



Matthew 19:21
Jesus saith to him: If thou wilt be perfect, go sell what thou hast, and give to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven: and come follow me.


Luke 6:20
And he, lifting up his eyes on his disciples, said: Blessed are ye poor, for yours is the kingdom of God.


James 2:5
Hearken, my dearest brethren: hath not God chosen the poor in this world, rich in faith, and heirs of the kingdom which God hath promised to them that love him?


Here are some of my other poems:
http://tradcatknight.blogspot.com/2016/05/poem-things-arent-always-what-they.html