All in All

I am a ray

I am essence of light

I inhabit a leaf

On the limb of a tree

I fall to the ground

Melt into the soil

Maker of nature

The holder of time

I am a cloud

Floating across the sky

I am a vision

Of pure pure truth

I raise up the giraffe

Give songs to a bird

Close jaws of a lion

Send wind to warn the herd

Place mighty behemoths 

Deep under the sea

Bury priceless gems

A thousand miles deep

Seek and you’ll find me

Ask and you’ll know

All I have I give

My blessings bestow

I conjure up worlds

I split dark from light

I surf on the waves

Waves made of sound

I am forgiveness

Forgiveness personified

I purchased your soul

Set captives free

In me jubilee

For you have liberty

Yet some stay in bonds

And complain about me

I open eyes

And freedom abounds

I breath life into being

I speak and it is

I set boundaries of weight

I issue forth gravity

I am a gyroscope

Endless fractals released

I am math, I am science

Protector and guard

Crusher of lies

Canceller of debt

Hewer of barriers

Friend among friends

There isn’t a place

My reach can’t extend

I gather the suffering

Beneath my great wings

None can oppose me

Although some may try

A fruitless endeavor

Warn all and be wise

I lift the planets

Swirl them in galaxies

I am unsearchable

Every miracle

Spirit and body

God and mankind

All in all to great and small

I am a rainbow maker

Surpass fission and fusion

I am eternity

I am every cell

I am the blood

Wonder of wonderfuls

Creator of all

Almighty, all powerful

King and counselor

Mercy giver, grace provider

Everlasting truth reciter

Dimension jumper

Universe rider

Heaven cartographer

Bringer of smiles

Some may not believe in me

Some choose to ignore

But those who experience me

Know love to its core

I am God the Father

I am God the Messiah

I’m God the Holy Spirit

I am the three in one

By Royce Waxenfelter

1/15/25

Jesus in the Information Age

When Jesus returns with all His saints 
As scripture states, will it set the stage
For the destruction of technology as we know it
Or will Jesus embrace the Information Age?

Will Jesus use a scroll or an e-reader
I have questions upon His eminent return
Will He do Ted Talks or give lectures up at Harvard Law
Or provide downloads for us to update what we’ve learned?

I’d love to see the look on Jesus’ face
As he bites into a ghost pepper Pringle 
Will He scream and belch fire like a mad dragon
Or laugh at such a tiny little tingle?

Will Jesus drive a Tesla to the temple
Or Segway down Pennsylvania Avenue
Will Jesus float around without assistance 
Giving lessons to every child in school?

Will Jesus show us how to renew energy
Will He shut down all the nuclear power plants
Will Jesus still wear a long white robe
Or be into 80s throwback hammer pants?

I wonder if he’ll enjoy the sounds we make now
E-guitars and synthesizer drums
Or will he show us what Angels play in Heaven
Or teach us brand new whistle sounds and hums?

Will Jesus master search engine optimization 
Will he run genius pivot tables in Excel
Will His Linked-In profile crash the internet 
Can I send Him my offerings on Pay-Pal?

Will Jesus go to movies or a concert
Will He sit and watch The Chosen on TV
Does He need to subscribe to Angel Network
Does He pay by month or save with the yearly fee?

When Jesus rules and reigns above the nations
Will he require speakers and a microphone 
Or will He share His message via Zoom call
Can we re-watch it on our android or iPhone?

Will Jesus take the bullet train to Tokyo
Will he have a chauffeur and a limousine 
Or travel by donkey across the globe
Parting waves as He trots along the sea?

Are there brands He’ll recommend that we all purchase 
With byte coin when the dollar has been erased
Or will He balance us all as economic equals
Which technologies will my savior God embrace?

By Royce Waxenfelter 

1/3/25

All Stories

All stories must start somewhere

And all tales have a beginning

They may not make sense or be accurate

But they have to start with something 

All nieces like Reese’s Pieces

And all nephews like Skittles

And the ones who don’t no longer have hope

They just fall somewhere in the middle

All lovers like flowers and rings

And all haters like disaster

And lonely people without love or hate

Tend to wear a mask of plaster

All dogs like T-bone steaks

And all kittens like custard

And all the other animals don’t get a say

They just say please pass the mustard

All clouds drift across the blue sky

And all rivers flow seaward

And you can experience both from the helm of a ship

Leaning windward or leeward

All dreamers take years to relate

And all go-getters seem faster

But they each have a way to realize their fate

When they pursue whatever they’re after

All decadence is smothered in lies

And all politics likewise

And one day you’ll learn that life’s too short

Don’t let it be such a surprise

All wanderers have gone astray

And all searchers find something

But little discoveries along the way

Are worth far more than the one ring

All stories lead to the fellowship

And all tales tell of Frodo

In some shape or form you'll find your Sam

And they’ll show you things you don’t know.

by Royce Waxenfelter

11/21/24

Apple Butter

Across the seas in an old clay jar

A journey vast, a journey far

A small seed hidden amongst the cargo

From Portugal west, on past Key Largo

Then north she sailed on up to Boston

Yet on the manifest the seed was not on

Unloaded by porters, kept in a warehouse

Narrowly escaping the jaws of a mouse

Purchased by a farmer unknowing

The treasure he would soon be stowing

In an old barn in upstate New York

The jar set next to an old hay fork

One day the farmer’s wife decided

To use the jar (with the seed inside it)

What she didn’t know as she washed it out

The washed out seed would one day sprout

And from the seed she’d one day see

The blossoms on an apple tree

The farmer and his wife were most delighted

And to their farm many were invited

To come and taste the many treats

Which started with an apple seed

Strudel, pie, and like no other…

The family favorite: apple butter!

For you never know along life’s journey

Which direction you might be turning

And you may not know if you’ll survive

‘Til your vessel is emptied, you gain new life

God the Father redeems what once was lost

It wasn’t free, Christ paid the cost

Tell others of your perilous journey

How you were lost and even hurting

Then tell of how your heart does blossom

How one small seed became so awesome

How God’s hand was always on the rudder

Brought from peril to hope and endless wonder

That’s what it’s like to know you’re saved

Especially after the way you behaved

To know God had a plan all along

To bring you though, grow your soul strong

Once lost, now saved, and like the apple butter

You are indeed a gift, bless one another!

By Royce Waxenfelter
10/14/24

Contained

Glass full of echoes
Tote full of tears
Cup full of memories
Mug of cold beer

Scoop with my wishes

Boot with my cries

Pocket of mystery

Plenty of lies

Halo of happy

Hand full of hope

When they get low

I drag and I mope

Heart full of blood

Pumping around

Eyes full of wonder

Ears full of sound

These are the things

I carry ‘round with me all day

I can’t let ‘em go

They’re full of the stuff I say

A mountain of loss

A room with no view

A burden of sorrow

To ponder and chew

Utterances astounding

Secrets untold

Why do I keep them?

They taunt and they scold

Bowl full of questions

A thimble, a wish

A simple concoction

In a petri dish

To grow and to wither

To blossom and die

A brain full of missions

Keeps wondering why

These are the things

I carry ‘round with me all day

I can’t let ‘em go

They’re full of the stuff I say

I vase full of lonely

A briefcase of fear

Toolbox of letters

I hold so dear

Bucket of boasting

Wheelbarrow of shame

Dreams of beyond

Held in a satchel too tame

A harbor of bitterness

In my journal of regret

Baskets bestow love

A well so deep I forget

Box of old pictures

Tray of lost names

Clipboard of schedules

Voluminous games

These are the things

I carry ‘round with me all day

I can’t let ‘em go

They’re full of the stuff I say

My wineglass of joy

Is brimming with glee

My thermos of mocking

Regulates me

Barrel of pointless

Tankard of trash

Saltshakers compassion

A sprinkle, a dash

A salute to the teachers

A nod to the wise

I harvest and gather

The sunsetting skies

Cleverly doing

What I must do

To capture in vessels

These thoughts I issue

These are the things

I carry ‘round with me all day

I can’t let ‘em go

They’re full of the stuff I say

By Royce Waxenfelter

8/7/24

High

“What does he know about it anyway?” Sully thought to himself as he pondered the discussion he had a half-hour ago with his old man about the dangers of “hard drugs”.

The scene replayed in his head as he drove down the winding, poplar-lined road.

His dad had found ‘the Blue bullet’, Sully’s stubby, sapphire-colored aluminum pipe in the pocket of his jacket when he’d borrowed it from the coatrack to walk their dog Rinky earlier that morning.

“Oh, please! It’s just pot, dad! It’s not like I’m a junkie. It’s as harmless as a garter snake.”

“I’m not saying it’s crack cocaine,” his dad reasoned, “but it’s not you at your best. I love you enough to know when you’re missing your potential.”

“I feel like it helps me reach my potential, have you thought about that?” 

“How so?” his dad asked.

“It’s kind of like a key that opens up my creativity. It puts me in touch with my natural ability, takes away the push of society’s unfounded demands, brings me into focus on what should be, you know?”

His dad let out a sigh and responded, “That may be how it makes you feel, but the truth is, you are and always have been the most creative person I know. You don’t need to use any drugs to be you. You are amazing without them.”

“Sorry I turned out to be such a big disappointment to you!” Sully quipped. “You just don’t get it!”

Sully grabbed his jacket from his dad’s hand and stomped out the front door.

His blood boiled as he drove away. He was a little embarrassed, sure, but more so, incensed. The nerve of someone telling him who he should be! How he ought to live, to feel! Ugh! 

“Okay, relax man, take a breath, don’t let that old fool get to ya,” he thought to himself. “Take a toke and relax.”

With that notion, Sully pulled over next to a quiet nature park. He got out and found a secluded picnic table under a massive oak tree. He refilled ‘the blue bullet’ and lit up the fresh sticky bud, slowly taking in a big hit, holding it in his lungs. He closed his eyes and counted to twenty before exhaling. Sully gradually tilted his head back and soaked in the bright green of the backlit leaves. He imagined the colors washing away the anger, the embarrassment, the bitterness. 

“There, that’s more like it,” he thought. He tapped out the loose ash onto the picnic table, took in a big breath, and blew the tiny pile away, a symbol of life’s old restraints now a thing of the past. He smiled, relieved.

He sat a few minutes and made a plan for the day. He’d go into town to see if his buddy Tad would go with him to the beach for the day. He could use a non-judgmental friend today.

He got back in his car, turned on Pink Floyd’s ‘Pigs on the Wing’ and sang along as he drove into town.

Sully waited until he was parked to take another hit. He liked the way it made him feel. Not quite numb, just a slight tingle. Relaxed. Like the world slowed down by a millisecond. Slowed to the speed it should be. Sully’s speed. He liked the way his body felt a tad bit lighter, like he was on the verge of floating. It was a sprinkle of euphoria.

He took a satisfying deep breath and stepped out the door of his white, convertible Dodge Reliant K-car. Sully heard the horn of a truck… a millisecond too late.

by Royce Waxenfelter 

7/30/24