Accept Without Understanding

Some day it really won't matter,

The things that I've had to go through,

The pain and the suffering, the tears I have shed,

His plans surpass all in review.

Some day my questions He'll answer,

The "whys" that have lingered within,

He'll lay out His pattern, at last I shall see,

His ways, not my ways, will win.

Confusion, frustration, that haunts me

Will be put to rest in His time,

It really won't matter once I see His face,

The mountains that I've had to climb.

I truly was never abandoned

Though I felt my prayers went unheard,

He carries me through every valley,

I know this 'cause I have His Word.

The trials allowed one day will make sense,

Disease and evil abound,

But He has a plan that I can foresee,

His glory will one day astound.

Some day it really won't matter,

The things we've had to go through,

The pain and the suffering, the tears we have shed,

His plans surpass all in review.

A Colorado Fall

In the brilliance of the golden leaves
I feel His presence there.
Stirring through the quaking breeze
His Spirit fills the air.

Essence sweet with hints of pine
The air so fills and moves me,
That I am speechless, caught in time
Held hostage by the beauty.

I see Him there, I breathe Him there
And often kneel to render,
Heart-felt praise yet in despair
For words to tell His splendor.

Every year when colors change
My heart embraces fall.
A pilgrimage to cross the range
Then up the mountain calls.

Though vivid and alluring
Are the autumn Aspen hues,
They pale beneath the stirring…
Of when I kneel on golden pews.

By Tom Valles



Luke 6:12
“One of those days Jesus went out to a mountainside to pray, and spent the night praying to God.

A Lender's Shopping Mall

The labor pains of writing

Results in many books,

And giving birth to all those words

One cannot overlook.

And for this vast selection

Of titles one and all,

A place for readers far and wide...

A lender's shopping mall.

Vast tomes of information,

Of stories that delight,

Or poetry that lifts the heart

And rises to its height.

A place of inspiration,

That hush that fills the air,

That isolated quietude

That everyone can share.

A place of peace and refuge,

A way to just escape,

A temporary solitude

That can one's life reshape.

A means to travel 'round the world

And never leave one's town,

To cast off heavy burdens,

For a brief time...letdown.

Refueling mental batteries,

To let one's mind engage,

To while away an afternoon

With words upon each page.

A catalog of vast delights

Indexed and shelved with care,

And filed alphabetically

By authors one can share.

Just one of heaven's blessings

Delighting mind and heart,

A brief but true vacation

From an author's "pastry cart".

Send Them Off With A Kiss

The days and hours are fleeting,
Both time and minutes rush by,
We're not guaranteed the next moment
Nor told when our end will draw nigh.

Assuming that we'll have more chances,
Opportunities oft slip away,
Expressing our thoughts and feelings,
With tender emotions convey.

Just what will our loved ones remember,
What would we want them to know,
When sending our kids off to school
Or leaving for work--"on the go"?

The shadows of evening are hastening,
Another day slipping on past,
If this were our last conversation,
What words would we leave to hold fast?

Perhaps the spirit should ponder
As we send them off with a kiss,
The whispers of love we remember
And grudges, resentment, dismiss.

The mind will recall all the memories
Of times we were held to the heart,
The laughter we shared, the tenderness shown,
What message will our lives impart?

So send them off with a kiss
Instead of a shove out the door,
It's just too important to end with love's touch
Regardless of time's beating score.

Poem: Prism to our Past

A humbling profession is
Biblical archaeology,
where people are found prostrate -
Searching for glimpses of Man's history.

Forgotten souls and evidence have been
covered by layers of earthly dust,
as recent discoveries now include...
The decoding of Israel's "Exodus".

An eclectic collection of artifacts
of the "Hyksos Expulsion" have been laid bare
by Simcha, the "Naked Archaeologist",
on TV's "The History Channel" everywhere.

Proposed is a brilliant theory,
that spans a labyrinth of time,
while he employs computer graphics
to capture believers' hearts and minds.

An unending excavation
of God's Truth will forever last,
while we focus our attention
and gaze through... His prism to our past.

Poem: Silent Words Are Useless

I've got my opinions as any other;
Hopefully, I'll be clear and you'll understand
that our silent words are useless -
For the trees will willingly clap their hands.

The one true God spoke into existence
the birds, fishes, plants, mammals, Earth
and all forms of life including...
Humble beginnings of Mankind's birth.

The sound of our individual voices
is something that God covets and enjoys;
He wants our unadulterated praise verbalized
with heartfelt, cheerful, and celebratory noise.

Our real outward expressions of faith
for acknowledging His holy ways
can only be accomplished via...
Sincere, loving and audible praise.

So open your mouth during Church worship
and praise Him without doubt!
For your silent words are useless -
Causing even the rocks... to cry out.

The Act Of Creation

A whisper from heaven,

A word overheard,

A turn of a phrase

That has the mind stirred.

The notes of a song

That bears one along,

The words of a scripture

That makes the heart strong.

A poem, a story

That brings fresh, new thoughts,

A sermon once spoken

New meaning has brought.

A fresh definition

That wakens the mind,

A new revelation

That has been outlined.

A breathtaking scene,

Some masterful art,

Will cause inspiration

To stir in the heart.

But if we're quite honest

It all comes from Him,

The Creator of words

And each synonym.

It's heavenly insight

As we hold the pen,

The Spirit is speaking

Though written by men.

Pursued by the Father

As children of God,

We give Him our best

Though the writing is flawed.

From Him comes all wisdom,

The flame to begin,

Our senses once stirred

And the story we spin.

But anything good

That was writ on the page,

Comes from the Father

Who our pen engaged.

Joy

It is the confident position
That God Almighty reigns.
It is the thorough expectation
That simple faith proclaims.

It is the song in dire places,
That rejoices through the pain.
It is taking hold of graces
And standing in His name.

It is strength and consolation,
To know He’s in control.
It is void of consternation
As it fills the settled soul.

It is power for believers
And a gift from God above.
It conquers the Deceiver
And dances in His love.


By Tom Valles

Psalm 28:7 “The LORD is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in him, and I am helped. My heart leaps for joy and I will give thanks to him in song. NIV

The Tattered Pages

The pages lay on the table
where she left them last night.
Love written there was no fable.
It filled her heart with delight.

Her fingers touched the golden edge
of the papers tattered and worn.
Years ago she made a pledge
to read these pages every morn.

Her love for Him grew each day.
What a sacrifice He'd made.
She knew she'd never stray.
Every day she read and prayed.

She grew closer to her Lord
and would serve Him all her days.
This was the Savior she adored.
Her heart overflowed with His praise.

She lived by the words on its pages.
When she died it was laying by her side.
It had sustained her through all ages.
Now with Her Lord she would abide.