Lessons of faith from the perspective of a sled dog

The Lord is my musher.
I’m part of His team.
He makes sure I take time to rest.
At checkpoints He feeds me
and offers me drink.
No wonder I give Him my best.

O’er trails of His leading,
He coaxes me on.
And when shadows darken my way,
I will not be fearful
for He is in charge.
Contented, I want to obey.

My bowl overflows
with the proof of His care.
My weary bones welcome His touch.
And as I draw near
to the end of my race,
He whispers I’m loved very much.

Yes, goodness and mercy
both bark at my heels.
They’ll follow me all the way home.
And when I have reached
the burl arch of my life,
I know God will call me His own.

Hollywood seduces young dreamers with nightmares

In La La Land bright flood lights shine
on that most famous hillside sign
that points us to a tinseled town
where sidewalk stars are born.

In La La Land you sing and dance
in hopes that you will have a chance
to make your mark in Hollywood
and see your name in lights.

In La La Land you live your dreams
without a sense of what it means
to feed your ego, starve your soul
and rent a wedding ring.

In La La Land you have to choose
what you are willing most to lose.
The one who promised you their heart?
Or promised you a role?

A reaction to death’s too frequent surprise visits

We thought we’d have another time
to share a joke or share some wine.
But death showed up without invite
and left us grieving so.

We thought we’d have another day
to deal the cards and start to play
a game of Bridge or maybe Rook.
But death would nix it all.

We thought we’d have just one more chance
to stroll the parks and eye the plants
that signal spring is almost here.
But death had other plans.

We thought we’d have more time to talk
about our sports teams or our stocks.
But death would steal our hopes and dreams
and leave us asking why. 

And so before it is too late,
let’s seize the day and celebrate
the gift of life with those we love
while we still have the time.

It’s a way of life

A Valentine is not a day.
It’s the little things by which I say
how much I love that certain one
who claims my grateful heart.

A Valentine lasts through the year.
It promises that I’ll be here
to shield you from the winter chill
as we are growing old.

A Valentine is not a card.
It’s loving you when things are hard.
It’s showing you through what I do
that we will never part.

A Valentine’s a way of life.
When we are stressed by unsolved strife,
I’ll look for ways to rid our home
of that which steals our joy.

A Valentine’s is simply me
who’s humbled by the chance to be
your escort as we journey through
the days that yet await.

*This poem is dedicated to my wife Wendy

Reflecting on Tom Brady’s missing jersey and my mom’s stolen memories

When your Super Bowl jersey is stolen,
you’ve been robbed of the shirt off your back.
And I’m guessing Tom Brady is angry.
No, I’m certain he is. It’s a fact!

But a crime that is even more heinous
is a heist that impacts those we love.
It’s when loved ones are robbed of their mem’ries
or the names they were just thinking of.

A life savings gone. It’s so tragic.
That glassy-eyed stare says it all.
What was earned over decades is taken.
But by who? They just cannot recall.

When the vault in their brain is depleted
and then ransacked of all they held dear,
they are speechless (deprived of their senses).
And the thief leaves them silenced by fear.

Yes, this crime is far worse than is Brady’s.
What is stolen cannot be replaced.
So we should be kind to the victims
whose despair can be seen on theirface.

• http://ftw.usatoday.com/2017/02/tom-brady-missing-jersey-worth