This is my edition of A Hidden Life and Other Poems by George MacDonald, who I greatly admire and wish to share.
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Most of the poems here are very religious and reference many things in the Christian faith. Not all will be like this, however, since poetry is quite personal. Please read with the understanding that they may not instill the same feelings in you as in others. I will not put all the poetry that I make onto the site, but if I am requested to share more, I may choose to personally do so.

Table of Contents

The Storm and The Cornerstone (p. 05-18-2020)

        Bring the thunders
        Bring the storm

        Let the rain wash away
        wash wash flash crash

        The storm is fierce

        More power than man
        water washes away, we cannot stand

        wash away wash away
        Great storm show our weakness

        wash wash flash crash

        sweep away our foundation
        until ever reaction

        sees the cornerstone
        our true hope

        only seen by washing
        wash wash flash crash

        the ferocity of the storm defeats me
        but without it, how would I see
        the Great Cornerstone beneath

        wash wash away away
        Great storm come this day
              

Ain’t Home (05-18-2020)

                Blue Ridge Mountains span my view
                Old and homely, nothing new
                Springs and creeks clear and cold,
                pure and swift, filled with gold
                Banks of mountain laurel
                branches dark that curl
                valley pines and ferns aplenty
                mossy places, greens, life many

                I love this place, but it ain’t home

                The smell of rivers, in a valley, in the mountains
                The feel of wind on a farm where I stay
                The sound of rain in the forest while I walk
                The taste of blackberries grown by no man
                The sight of it all that reaches my heart

                I love this place, but it ain’t home

                Many would say you’d call this home
                but I was taught different
                Not by teachers, families, or friends, but while alone
                I know it’s true because my heart
                speaks with a different accent
                It’s hard to explain unless you know
                but this now is a fickle show

                I love this place, but it ain’t home

                Very beautiful, I love it much
                but still a shadow, and should be treated as such
                One day I’ll leave this place, depart through dirt expressionless,
                Then I’ll be home with His Infinite Grace!
              

In My Home (2020)

              How great are the tales I hear  
              Books I read of a hero  
              Fate draws him to save the world  
              I read in my room with closed doors  

              Games—I play the hero who dies  
              Saving others while fighting lies  
              I do this while on my bed I lie  

              Songs play of great, virtuous, and true  
              Melodies with harmonies sing the wonders they do  
              I am at home too  

              At night, I dream of holding a sword, saving lives  
              At home, I take a nap at five  

              I hear voices calling to take hold  
              Alas, outside my house it is cold  

              So many things, instant pleasures—  
              Instant food, internet, games, YouTube…  
              All of little measure  

              How I struggle not to waste, in my home  
              People I think I talk to, in my home  
              The truth cuts to my bones  
        

Aged Youth (10/8/2024)

          Winter winds, slow snows, and thoughtful pose come into my young bones.  
          Too many times I've worried and tired when I should have prayed seven.  
          But circles around do not wisdom define, but conference and gift from divine.  
          May it bring not anxiety but increase in Heavenly meetings.  

          Oft I forget the greatest present is loving relationship in this present.  
          Should it be that my body trembles, still my will to Him I’ll assemble.  
          Oh! Great Love! You make my heart beat and mind flow!  

          LORD! How life you bring me! It is Yours forever, but teach me!  
          Teach me how to love like You, raise, teach, and forever in prayer like You.  
          This child, apart of me, inexpressible joy must be, the same you see.  
          Help me, help me, for even when seemingly safe, I am dust and always need Your Face.  

          It’s a cry of joy, petition, and plea to sing, sing, sing—“Help me.”  
          Why? Because, oh reader, the Holy Comforter is here for us as a Father for a small child.  
          So help me, safe or not, I cry because I want Your presence by my side.  

          Great it is to have time, so we know to be aged and youthful,  
          Childlike and wise—because so many great things aren’t separate but merely two sides.  
          So in my angel youth or youthful age, I cry, “Help me,” because He loves me at all times.  

            *Auburn Night Yr.10*  
            **DPP**  
      

Great Nations (8-15-2020, 11:17 PM)

      Oh sinful generation, sinful nations,  
      Your beauty is tainted by your sins, as is mine,  
      But Christ washes away my crime.  

      Oh America, of brave heart and courageous people,  
      When did you become so weak and fearful?  

      Oh China, of beauty and elegance,  
      When did you lose your freedom and repentance?  

      Evil lies among the great nations of power,  
      And oppresses his people every hour.  

      The Christ Lion has taught His sons well,  
      And with their power, the truth that is hard to tell.  
      But the weak, the oppressed—that is where Jesus finds rest.  

      Take up God's Word, Lord, save us!  
      Give your Spirit surplus.  
      Give this world justice.  
      Save your children of these great nations.  
      Let us sing and dance together at your creation.  
    

Wonders (8-16-2020, 12:54 AM)

    How should my pen strokes lie upon the page  
    To ever convey the thoughts of my mind?  

    It is not enough to write in English,  
    Nor all of Sanskrit could say  
    The immense, unimaginability vast, infinite completeness  
    To which You, my God, are.  

    And the story whose title page  
    Encompasses humanity’s history,  
    Yet all the mystery—  
    For not knowing is one of Your best blessings.  

    How my mind whirls like the wind,  
    Searching every corner to fill.  
    Yet this is no box,  
    But I don’t want to stop.  

    Wonder in You,  
    In what You’ve done.  
    Words do not fulfill,  
    My mind succumbs.  
        

Mysterious Fire (10-20-2020, 12:00 PM, Tuesday)

      O’ mysterious fire, suddenly out of the dark,  
      I was beginning to tire, now I have a new desire  
      To choose your flame, chase it through the night.  

      Things you touch you don’t burn,  
      But bring healing and sight.  

      O’ mysterious fire, you’ve led me to my friend,  
      One I knew of and did not know—  
      Together you did send.  

      I can’t pretend my joy, my desire,  
      O’ mysterious fire!  

      Strength to me lead, and I asked  
      That should this start,  
      You’d not let it end, but troubles mend.  

      Death to the liar in me,  
      Burn it with fire, raise us higher!  

      O’ mysterious fire,  
      Be in the middle to fuel a righteous desire!