Jeff Bidiman's Page

The Path

Now as the bright day star decreased its burn,
And the wheel of time revolved toward night,
My relentless musings had more to learn.

With wary words mixed into the twilight,
I spoke carefully to the evening air,
And though it was transparent to my sight,

My longing eyes were seeking everywhere.
Eagerly scanning the vanishing sky;
Asking aloud "Spirit, are you still there?"

"Be still" returned the voice in calm reply,
"You have only to look for me deep inside.
Your chamber of… Continue

The pen brings life unto the empty page,
Yet it does not write of its own accord.

We are nothing but a clay writing tool
Seeking to write our lives upon the blank
Pages of an undecided future.

Father, guide this pen to fill these pages
With words that are acceptable to you.

Hush now, my complaining heart, be silent!
Desist this pounding, pounding in my ears!
Must your ill tempered beat be so violent
To bang its war drums announcing my fears?
Retreive your molten anger from my face.
It burns with the hatred which I abhor,
And leads down the path to my disgrace.
A path I've traveled many times before.
Beat! Beat in time with God's sweet charity!
Pulsate with the desires of His will,
And then my heart, we'll find a rarity,
That our troubles will become silent, still,… Continue

In the clear of a summer night,
When stars dance with delight
Around the moons radiant beams,
I find myself lost in dreams.

A stranger strolls a mountain trail
Looking withered, weak, and pale.
He walks the edge of a precipice;
Peering into its dark abyss.

The stars adrift in moonlit skies,
Patiently watch with twinkling eyes.
Waiting in fields of ebony,
For him to choose his destiny.

With Heaven above and the abyss below,
The pilgrim ponders which way to go.

Driven by a restlessness,
Wander… Continue

The two sat on the porch, talking 'bout the past,
And how one wished those simple times simply would have last.
But now they sit in silence under summer's burning rays,
Sifting through their memories of moments long since passed.

'Funny,' the one said to the other with a misty sort of gaze,
'How lookin' at what used to be, in those golden days,
Only makes me notice more the way they aint the same.'
'Yep,' said the second one, 'and I give God all the praise
For giving me a simple path back to wh… Continue