Metzler Park

Drive up to Estacada

Along Springwater Road

Then wind down into Metzler

To a forest glorious and old

A creek runs through Metzler Park

Clear and crystal clean

Ferns, trees, and vines cover both banks

A setting most serene

Once you get your camp set up

Get ready to explore

Wade in the shallows ‘neath the bridge

Catch crawdads from the shore

Sit and listen to the water

Rush rapid over boulders

Close your eyes, hear song birds sing

Breath deep, relax your shoulders

When you’re ready to stretch your legs

Pick a hiking trail

Be amazed by all the colors and shapes

God’s creation will unveil

So come with me to Metzler Park

Break from life’s busy foray

Come join me in my happy place

It’s not that far away!

by Royce Waxenfelter
8/23/21

Gone

I wonder why you left me, in my pity I reject anyone’s grace

When they tell me it’ll be OK, they’re wrong, they’re just wrapping it in lace

There’s an echo in the hallway, it bounces off the walls throughout the place

I’ve gotta put some socks on ‘cause this cold tile floor sends chills up to my face

And there’s a reason, I just don’t know it

My winter season, and I am frozen

Will I ever be the same? I doubt it very much because I’m full of hate

The emptiness is like a cavern where the wicked demons infiltrate

The day you left I tried to call but your silence seemed to mock my very core

It felt like a knife stab straight into my heart, a pain I can’t ignore

Every now and then I lay out all the fancy dresses that you wore

And I lift them up to wipe away the tears out of my eyes as they pour

And there’s a reason, I just don’t know it

My winter season, and I am frozen

Will I ever be the same? I doubt it very much because I’m bruised and broken

And I haunt myself with all the love for you I know I should’ve spoken

Not a day goes by I don’t feel like your by my side, but then your not

There’s a flower upon the table, it’s drying up and dying in the pot

A symbol of my life without you here, watch my soul slowly rot

I torture myself with pictures of your smile, while my stomach’s in a knot

And there’s a reason, I just don’t know it

My winter season, and I am frozen

Will I ever be the same? I doubt it very much because you’re gone forever

And in my shame I call your name like you are here, a bitter, hopeless, sad endeavor 

I called in sick again today I just can’t seem to face the happy faces there

They walk around like you’re still here, I know the the truth but they don’t seem to care

And if I lose my job it’s just as well, heck, throw me into jail

Maybe there I can escape where others understand how cruel life isn’t fair

There’s a reason, I just don’t know it

My winter season, and I am frozen

Will I ever be the same? I doubt it very much because that is my plight

So I’ll wait in vain when I call your name out sadly in the night

When the call came through I shouted out to her “I don’t believe it’s true!”

I didn’t get to say goodbye and now my world's drenched in a blackened hue

When they lowered you down into the ground I felt like jumping in the grave with you

But since I didn’t now I curse that ground and each and every drop of morning dew

Well there’s a reason, I just don’t know it

My winter season, and I am frozen

Will I ever be the same? I doubt it very much because I cannot sleep 

I suppose I should forgive you but the hurt I feel inside is much too deep

The pastor stopped by yesterday to remind me that you’re gone

As if I needed a reminder but he said something else that didn’t sound so wrong

He said you may be gone but you're in Heaven where you belong

I broke down in tears and made a vow to join you in that great beyond

There’s a reason, now I know it

My winter season, is almost over

Will I ever be the same, I doubt it very much since God provided hope

He threw a lifeline overboard and from the depths I reached to grab the rope

There’s a reason, now I’m singing

My winter season, turned to spring and

I will never be the same, I’ll join you in eternity although you’re gone

You’re not gone forever because forever is our home

By Royce Waxenfelter

5/4/21

The End of Revenge

I once had a dream

Though it was not my own

To call up a storm

And make it my throne

It swirled round about me

It lifted me high

The lightning around me

Gave a thunderous cry

It filled me with power

To judge human kind

Without God’s discretion

With only my mind

So I traveled the oceans

I sped across land

I dealt blows to the wicked

With bolts from my hand

When I was finished

Not a single soul left

They had all been deemed wicked

At my whim, Earth bereft

But the storm kept raging

Tore every mountainous peak

It was hungry for justice

But whom did it seek?

As I rode the whirlwind

Across the face of a lake

I saw my reflection

Realized my mistake

The storm wasn’t finished

Retribution at hand

It was me it was seeking

To exact reprimand

As I woke from my vision

Knew my deserved plight

Could I ever escape it?

Could I change wrong to right?

So I went to the Creator

I asked for forgiveness

He washed my heart clean

From my own wickedness

Now when the storm seeks its vengeance

I seek help from above

By grace I escape it

‘Neath the banner of His love

If you ride the revenge storm

Until you see your reflection

Look to Jesus, He’ll save you

Provide Himself as protection

By Royce Waxenfelter

5/3/21

Note: Romans 3:23-24 “For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and all are justified freely by his grace through the redemption that came by Christ Jesus.”

Buttermilk not Buffalo

She likes buttermilk chicken not buffalo 

That southern gal I miss her so

I’m way up north, can barely cope

She’s in the sun I’m in the snow 

She likes shrimp and grits not hot poutine 

When I’m away I get so mean

It’s grey up here it’s all I’ve seen

I miss my little butter bean

She likes fried catfish not salted cod

And okra more than tapenade 

The northern folk just talk so odd

They call streets up here a promenade 

Take me back down south 

Get me outta this place

I miss the words from her mouth 

And the smile on her face

We’ll hop in my truck maybe fix my tire

And we’ll go settin’ the woods on fire

She’ll play fiddle, I’ll play guitar 

Then all my dreams won’t seem so far

She likes warm biscuits not bagel lox

She rides with me when I hunt fox

She’s barefoot there while I’m in socks

She’s more contagious than the chicken pox

She likes crawdad boils and fishing holes

And taters with her dinner rolls

My hearts on fire like burnin’ coals

For my southern gal from Muscle Shoals 

She wears overalls not long underwear 

She likes honeysuckle and the county fair

She’s the firefly in my southern air

Together we make quite a pair

Take me back down south 

Get me outta this place

I miss the words from her mouth 

And the smile on her face

We’ll hop in my truck maybe fix my tire

And we’ll go settin’ the woods on fire

She’ll play fiddle, I’ll play guitar 

Then all my dreams won’t seem so far

By Royce Waxenfelter 

4/24/21

Would You Rather

 Would you rather spend your work days under a blazin’ sun

Or relaxin’ in the shade just havin’ fun

Would you rather dwell in doubt with a guilt-ridden soul

Or have all your errors forgiven and restored

Oh but choices or not your life is your lot

It flies by in the blink of an eye

And wherever you go or whatever you do

You don’t get to choose when you die

So please listen please make the choice where it counts

Heaven and Hell come in larger amounts

So please won’t you choose your place for eternity 

Would you rather beg for handouts in a soup kitchen line

Or choose your favorite dish on which to dine

Would you rather fear your own death ‘til the moment you pass away

Or know without a doubt you’ll be OK

The choice to be sure of the prodigal son

Was be proud as a pig or go home

Where you’ll feast like a king, an heir to the throne

Where God’s grace and mercy are shown

So please listen please make the choice where it counts

Heaven and Hell come in larger amounts

So please won’t you choose your place for eternity 

Would you rather dwell in doubt with a guilt-ridden soul

Or have all your errors forgiven and restored

Would you rather fear your own death ‘til the moment you pass away

Or know without a doubt you’ll be OK

Or know without a doubt you’ll be OK

Or know without a doubt you’ll be OK

By Royce Waxenfelter 

3/26/21

Note: to the tune of ‘May you never’ by Eric Clapton 

The Corporal’s Lot

I’ll tell you a tale from a long time ago

I hope you will share it, let everyone know

A story of love and of glistening hope

Of a corporal who died in the morning 

Charlie van Scott bred from quite a fine lot

He was raised to accel, not to plod or to plot

He studied until he knew each sailors knot

And soon he gained charge over many

His fleet how it grew and if you only knew

How his men all admired him, captain and crew

They’d give him their sweat and sacrifice too

If the chance e’er arose to their honor

He led many excursions to hunt pirates down

In the name of the queen, the flag of the crown

Fortunes were saved, they called him ‘The bloodhound’

For he sniffed out the brigands of thievery

His wife back on land never gave a demand

But prayed for his safety with the clasp of her hand

She trusted his calling would surely withstand

Though perilous journeys be many

For seventeen years he overcame all her fears

And his victories brought about plenty good cheer

To the men on the docks who lifted their beer

And sang shanties of Corporal Charlie

It was windy the day the waves washed him away

From the quarter deck where now the dirges do play

Weeping and grieving yet some dare to say

That he’s out there somewhere still a’chasing

If you ever find yourself floating aloft

Where the sea may seem to be pillowy soft

Don’t loosen your grip if you’ve sneezed or you’ve coughed

For you may share the fate of the corporal

Fine Corporal van Scott he knew not his lot

And under the waves benevolent bones rot

You may think it matters if you do or do not

Yet God calls your name when it’s ready

If you think I’m a pessimist here to cast doubt

Then show me the man who made his own route

Who pointed the way and stole from God clout

To ignore the hour of his ending

I caution you then to relinquish your sin

And be ready to go with the change of the wind

Like Corporal van Scott you know not your end

But Heaven is just the beginning.

by Royce Waxenfelter 

3/15/21

The Tempt

I’m takin’ the train back home
I’m takin’ the train back home
I lost ‘em in the rain, to the police I’m a pain
So I’m takin’ the train back home

Gonna slip in through the back door
Gonna slip in through the back door
Gonna kiss my sweet Marie and ask her to run with me
Then we’ll slip out back through the back door

Gonna head down south to Mexico
Gonna head down south to Mexico
Swim across the Rio Grande where we’ll make our weddin’ plan
Get married way down south in Mexico

We’ll build us a shack on the coast
We’ll build us a shack on the coast
Gonna build us a shack ‘cause we won’t be goin’ back
We’ll just stay in that shack on the coast

We’ll raise ourselves a family
We’ll raise ourselves a family
They’ll grow up like their pa and start runnin’ from the law
Turn their back on their only family

On second thought I won’t take that train
On second thought I won’t take that train
If I did my heart would break so I won’t make that mistake
No I won’t lose my children in vain

I realize I can’t escape my fate
I realize I can’t escape my fate
But I wonder what will be of my darlin’ sweet Marie
Will she end up with another lawless mate

So I’m takin’ that train back home
You know I’m takin’ that train back home
It may already to late but I’ll try to tempt my fate
I am takin’ that train back home

By Royce Waxenfelter
1/22/21
To the tune of ‘Last Fair Deal Gone Down’ by Robert Johnson

Entrenched

I have but a moment to write today midst the chaos of war and suffrin’

I beg take the time to read my say where I include my heart and lovin’

Will our banners hold up another day

Will our guns refrain from jammin’

Should we rest through the night on this bed of hay

Or will the bombs in our ears keep slammin’

Listen my dear how I miss you so, n’er again will I slander your cookin’

Your soft lovely skin and your flowing hair, oh darling you are so good lookin’

But much more than those I will n’er forget

For it does bring me the greatest pleasure

And I mention it here so you don’t regret

Your love for God is your greatest treasure

Ba, da dee, la da, da da-da de-da, la ba de di diddle dee-di dum (x2)

Say - a prayer - for me my dear  - and the men among my comp’ny

Place God’s hedge of protection ‘round us all and implore Him to give us mercy

I long for your smile and your kind, kind heart

Like a fire I cannot seem to quench it

And I dream of the day when we’re not apart

Far from death and the smell of these trenches

Please  - ask God - to forgive me now, I have caused much inj’ry and murder

I’m afraid of what might be the destiny of the soul of a humble soldier

If I survive will you marry me

For it would be my greatest honor

To raise with you a family

Gracious mother and proud father

Ba, da dee, la da, da da-da de-da, la ba de di diddle dee-di dum (x2)

I must say farewell to you now my love, I have a good reason to hurry 

An alarm tells of in-bound artill’ry shells so I close in a moment of worry

No matter what happens on this foreign shore

If I’m caught in the grip of the wrenches

My heart is yours forevermore

It cries out from these tombs and trenches

Ba, da dee, la da, da da-da de-da, la ba de di diddle dee-di dum (x2)

By Royce Waxenfelter

1/11/21

Note: to the tune of Mary and the Soldier by Paul Brady

The Grave

 I was walking outside of this bustling town

When color from a flower stole my glance from the ground

A harbinger of hope in this spring of our life

In awe, a reminder, there’s an end to the strife

I raised my eyes up beyond the flower of hope

A guard by a tomb in a stupor did grope

I asked, “Tell me sir, what are you trying to find?

What caused you to stumble, what made you go blind?”

Frightened he said, “A great warrior was he,

With an aura of light he did shine upon me.

He showed me I’m blind and it grieves me to say,

the stone of the tomb he rolled gravely away.”

So I entered the tomb where the body had laid

A shawl stained with blood, a great price had been paid

Overcomer of death, could it be the Messiah?

Did he conquer the grave? Did he walk through the fire?

Did he face down the soul snatching cauldrons of hell?

Retrieve the believers like water drawn from a well?

He said he is the way, the savior of all

But I denied his offer, I eschewed his kind call

I see now I judged Jesus, yet he’s the just judge

When he offers again, will I break, will I budge?

Will I accept his free gift of eternity with him?

Become free from this struggle and this burden of sin?

The hope of the flower it is now clear to me

A new life of hope, no more captivity

Restored to glory I gave up long ago

When I stopped seeking him I was failing to grow

His plan for me stretches past the end of my rope

He promises love, promises future and hope

Lord, why do you love when I doubted your divinity?

Why did you sacrifice your life for me?

From a view from the throne you sure took a great fall 

Suffering and shame you took once and for all

In vein it was not, deliberate and strong

What you did on the cross you had planned all along!

Now we’re free from the grave, it’s so easy you see

A good hearted-father to you and to me

Has extended a hand to loosen our binds 

He has healed broken-hearted, liberated our minds

Let the grave call you not to a suffering hell

Let Christ the Messiah draw you up from the well

To Heav’n everlasting in peace and his smile

His plan for all, he meant all of the while.

From a view from the throne Jesus took a great fall 

Suffering and shame He took once and for all

In vein it was not, deliberate and strong

What He did on the cross He had planned all along! 

By Royce Waxenfelter 

1/5/21

Note: to the tune of ‘The Green Fields of France’

33 Stranded

 <Chorus>

Shantyman: Our ship broke apart near the Chatum bar

Crew: Here we are on the Pendleton

Shantyman: 33 stranded in this nor’easter

Crew: She split in half, we’re stranded

Shantyman: Will this storm be the one that finally sank her?

Crew: Hey! Ho! Will we die below?

Shantyman: Will we perish ‘neath the weight of this oil tanker?

Crew: Dear God don’t leave us stranded!

Shantyman: We hear another tanker is also split asunder

Crew: Hey! Ho! Will we die below?

Shantyman: Will we all be saved or will our souls be left to wander?

Crew: Dear God don’t leave us stranded!

<Chorus>

Shantyman: The pumps are working to keep us all alive

Crew: Hey! Ho! Will we die below?

Shantyman: But will the waters rising lead to our demise?

Crew: Dear God don’t leave us stranded!

Shantyman: Let’s fix the rudder our spirits to renew

Crew: Hey! Ho! Will we die below?

Shantyman: To live past February in the year 52

Crew: Dear God don’t leave us stranded!

<Chorus>

Shantyman: The waves throw us ‘round like a cauldron in boil

Crew: Hey! Ho! Will we die below?

Shantyman: Let’s make for the bar, we’ve spilled our oil

Crew: Dear God don’t leave us stranded!

Shantyman: Hallelujah, we’ve run aground

Crew: Hey! Ho! Will we die below?

Shantyman: But on this stormy night will we e’er be found?

Crew: Dear God don’t leave us stranded!

<Chorus>

Shantyman: By the grace of God I see a searchlight shine

Crew: Hey! Ho! Will we die below?

Shantyman: It’s a tiny lifeboat, but it’s just in time

Crew: Dear God don’t leave us stranded!

Shantyman: Tell me who do we owe our great debt to?

Crew: Hey! Ho! We didn’t die below!

Shantyman: Saved by a four-man Coast Guard crew

Crew: God didn’t leave us stranded!

Crew: Hey! Ho! We didn’t die below!

Shantyman: Saved by a four-man Coast Guard crew

Crew: God didn’t leave us stranded!

All: God didn’t leave us stranded!

All: God didn’t leave us stranded!

All: Hooray!

By Royce Waxenfelter

12/7/20

Note: Based on the true story of the SS Pendleton off the coast of Cape Cod on February 18, 1952. The tanker split apart and on the half that didn’t abruptly sink, 33 men remained. The perilous trek to save those 33 men is commonly known as the most dangerous rescue in the history of the U.S. Coast Guard. 32 of 33 were saved. Watch the Disney Movie ‘The Finest Hours’ for reference.

The poem is written as a traditional sea shanty, with the Shantyman calling out a verse and the crew responding. Shanty's helped the sailing crews stay in time together as they pulled ropes, hoisted sails, and loaded cargo.

Songs of my youth

There will come a day

When my memory wanders

Will I still remember the songs

I sang with my brothers when we were still young?

When I’m old and gray

And my days are numbered

I will still remember the songs

I sang with my brothers when were so young

The sounds, a bridge

The voices, a path

Each note, a crystalline vision

Opening my memory to the time I first heard

The songs of my youth

When I am in dismay

When life’s torn asunder

The memories deliver those songs

I sang with my brothers when we were so young

When I feel the world’s weight

And I feel outnumbered

I push through until dawn

By singing like I’m with my brothers when we were still young

The sounds, a bridge

The voices, a path

Each note, a crystalline vision

Opening my memory to the time I first heard

The songs of my youth

Let’s sing the anthems of that day

Bring songs back like plunder

Become the giver of songs

You sang with others when you were still young

Let’s share while we may

This amazing wonder

Let’s all remember the songs

We sang with friends when were so young

The sounds, a bridge

The voices, a path

Each note, a crystalline vision

Opening my memory to the time I first heard

The songs of my youth

By Royce Waxenfelter

12/23/20

Spoiler at Noonday

There I was a-worshipping my gods

When Jeremiah’s word came through the door

Who is he to throw God’s word around like clods?

And why is he so sullen and demure?

 

How can a man from Judah be pinned down to just one god?

A mind is meant to wander, to spiritually poke and prod

The king himself encourages us to worship Baal

If I follow each and every god, however can I fail?

 

Tra-la-la-la, tra-la-la-la, Tra-la-la-la

We’re perfectly fine with idolatryism

 

I take advice from any foriegn man

Send negativity from whence it came

I worship any god or other deity at hand

A god’s a god by any other name

 

I’ve a god for happiness, I’ve got a god for health

And look here in my pocket, a shiny god for wealth

Some are made of iron, some are made of wood

Here’s one made by the blacksmith right here in my neighborhood

 

Tra-la-la-la, tra-la-la-la, Tra-la-la-la

We’re perfectly fine with idolatryism

Yet perhaps idolatry has gotten out of hand

Do I require an object to give me purpose?

What’s to stop me from just being my own man?

And who's to say I do or don’t deserve this?

 

But look at King Manasseh, the envy of us all 

He sacrifices children, in case you don’t recall

And uses divination to reap harvests in the fall

Yet Jeremiah warns it will be sorrowful for all

 

Tra-la-la-la, tra-la-la-la, Tra-la-la-la

We’re perfectly fine with idolatryism

 

Jeremiah’s says his God will send a spoiler at noonday

To those of us who reject his one true God

We’ll all be held as captives unless we all obey

In this time of peace it all sounds rather odd

 

If he’d look around he’d see all our enemies are gone

Be he is just a prophet whose predictions have been wrong

I for one am sleeping in, I won’t be up at dawn

It will take a while for captors to come all the way from Babylon

 

Tra-la-la-la, tra-la-la-la, Tra-la-la-la

We’re perfectly fine with idolatryism

 

I hope you know this song is written tongue in cheek

A leaky faucet dripping thick with irony

Eternal truth isn’t just made up by you or me

History proves Jeremiah made the correct choice of deity.

 

Like Jeremiah we can all trust in the God of Israel

Instead of trusting man-made gods that we can buy or sell

He speaks to us loud and clear like the ringing of a bell

In the Bible you can learn the way, I urge you and compel

To discard the ways of defiance of God, your tendency to rebel

He is a good God and wants nothing more than to save your soul from Hell

 

Tra-la-la-la, tra-la-la-la, Tra-la-la-la

It’s time to let go of idolatryism

 

By Royce Waxenfelter

12/4/20

 

Note: Inspired by the “spoiler at noonday” warning in Jeremiah 15:8. Sing this to the tune of Johnny Comes Marching Home or Billy Bragg’s The Marching Song of the Covert Battalion

Shanty of the Dry, Dry Land

I went to sea one misty morn

And puked my guts out overboard

Seafarin’ life just ain’t for me,

Get me off’a this gol’ darn sea!

 

Now the only songs I sing 

Are ones about farmin’ and sowin’ seed

You can take the rollin’ deep sea life

I’ll take the arms of my dear, sweet wife

 

For I ain’t been sailin’ since that fateful day

And I ain’t goin’ again, no matter the pay

Tease me all you like ‘bout being a man

I’ll sing this shanty on the dry, dry land

 

Hey! Ho! To the market I go

To buy my fish and purchase my roe

Dry! Land! Is the life for me

When I die you can throw me in the deep blue sea

 

We both have regrets for what we’ve said

We both love our dear ol’ mum and dad

Barnacles, tentacles, beasts of the sea

Here is the difference ‘tween you and me

 

You were born with the wind in your hair

A bucket for swabbin’ in the salty air

But I was born on the dry, dry land

Seeds in my pocket and a plow in me hand

 

You run the danger of the pirate hoard

Or you may get swept overboard

Politicians and lawyers are the sharks I fear

And I sell my corn for a buck an ear

 

Hey! Ho! To the market I go

To buy my fish and purchase my roe

Dry! Land! Is the life for me

When I die you can throw me in the deep blue sea

 

Thar she blows! I’ll never cry out

Never search the horizon for a blowhole spout

I won’t batten down hatches or swab the poop deck

Go deep sea divin’ in an old shipwreck

I won’t be navigatin’ by the stars alone

‘Nor piercin’ my nose with a wet whale bone

I won’t climb the crows nest to spot the shore

Or get stung by a Portuguese man o’ war

 

Won’t tell no stories of the great blue whale

Never buried any treasure, or hoisted a sail

Haven’t met a mermaid, smuggled contraband

‘Cause I live my life on the dry, dry land

 

Hey! Ho! To the market I go

To buy my fish and purchase my roe

Dry! Land! Is the life for me

When I die you can throw me in the deep blue sea

 

Oy!

 

By Royce Waxenfelter

12/2/20

 

Baptized and Sanctified

Soaring and chasing
Sifting sand
Time is wasting

Revolve around
Touching sound

Degenerate drowned

Singular senses surround
Slipping dimensions
Clocks unwound

Experience a moment
Take it all in
Feel with your soul
Let it begin

Remove human ceiling
Relinquish demands
Relax and breath easy

Bare feet in clover
Pressure released
Waves washing over

Revival, refreshing
Benefits bring
Basking in blessing

Experience a moment
Take it all in
Feel with your soul
Let yourself win

Forever forgiven
Endless endeavor
Life ever living

Grow, heal, mend
Released from the hound
Unbound unburdened

Rest where you drifted
Fear behind you
Soul uplifted

Experience a moment
Take it all in
Feel with your soul
Let go of sin

By Royce Waxenfelter
10/27/20

Note: This is about the relief and hope I had when I was baptized and set apart for God. Having my old sin nature behind me, drowned in the river, gave me new life and a peace I will never forget. Being forgiven is amazing; being free to NOT sin is liberating.

Silent truth is never heard

I woke up this morning and rubbed my eyes
Put up my hoodie as my disguise
Went outside and looked up at the skies
Why does the sun shine down on so many lies?

So I ducked down an alley, went to the store

Have everything I need but I need some more

Never ending cycle of consumer flow

River to the ocean, ocean to the shore

Why can’t we stop the nonsense?

It always ends in violence

Is it programmed compliance

Which leads me to my silence?

Went downtown, so curious

Got caught in the middle of protests

Lined up with all the suspects

Kicked out with all the rejects

Maybe I should’ve been vocal

Been more direct, more focal

Now I’m headed home like some yokel

I missed my chance at folk lore

Why do I let some treat others

Different than I treat my own mother?

Those who don't have a voice get smothered

I don’t stand up for them, I take cover

Sat up at night and watched TV

Newscaster’s trying to teach me

Wants me to believe what he tells me

Asks me to buy what he sells me

It’s part of what disquiets me

We let truth twist around like a tire swing

I think I’ll do what God tells me

Risk being banished from so-called society

Murder in the womb is not OK

But why should you listen to what I say

Where does truth live? What does God say?

We know, but ignore, so we fall prey

We call up when it’s down but we’re unsure

Take this test if you want to be sure

If it were your daughter would you hurt her?

By my silence I am guilty of murder

I’ll wake up tomorrow and rub my eyes

Will I hide behind some old disguise

Will I look at the sun and wonder why

I let my friends believe all of the lies?

Morality is more elusive

Than the fastest hummingbird 

Yet I must stand for justice 

Silent truth is never heard

By Royce Waxenfelter 

10/20/20

Note: This is about my longing for justice for unborn babies being killed in the womb by the millions every year and my tendency to not talk about it for fear of offending someone. I try to justify it by thinking the mas slaughter itself should be offensive enough. Sometimes I feel that abortion is to me what Nineveh was to Jonah. Why do I try to hide from an omniscient God? Why don't I stand for truth?