104. Warriors of the Mind and Soul
[Extended Poetic Process Discussion below]
Context:
I was one of tens of thousands of members of a popular on-line peparedness forum. It was a vast congregation of like minded individuals, both fiercely private and collegial. Everyone had their own personal "pen name" and "avatar"--no actual names or addresses were given. We enthusiastically exchanged advice and views on many preparedness subjects.
I often frequented the "Books" section. One articulate and deeply caring individual there was a Native American who could trace her ancestry back to such legends as Sitting Bull. In her tribe, she is a healer and a sage, dedicated to serving needy children. They, like many others, call themselves "The People". In part, we know their ancestors included Book of Mormon peoples.
MOTIVATION:
One winter, this "medicine woman" (which was a title given to the tribe's healers) informed us that she was grievously injured and was struggling to recover despite "-32 degree cold and snow in Minnesota". When I read that, I thought to myself: "That's so cold, your spit would freeze before it hit the ground." A figurative "light bulb" appeared above my head. Sixty minutes later, the following was completed. This process is explained and amplified below. I remain totally baffled why this unknown woman, who described herself as "short, fat, and ugly" eventually served as both motivation and subject of multiple poems. This is the first and most important of the same:
Warrior of the Soul and Mind
There is a place in Minnesota where the winters grow so chilly
That your spit will freeze before it hits the ground to which its thrown
Lives a daughter of the People who preserves their rich traditions
And who heals the troubled spirits of the children she has known
She is heir to Hiawatha, he of fabled song and story
He whose name became a touchstone of a way of life long gone
For his heirs were hurt and scattered by the wicked who thought glory
Was to purge the Earth of every good thing it had known
The defilers called it “progress” that a land once pure and golden
Would become a place of sorrow, would become a place of fear
For the liberties and values of a People blessed by Father
Would be poisoned and corrupted till their rivers ran with tears
Yet against the white man’s wizards and the treacheries of traitors
This choice maiden still gives battle with the powers Father shares
To each soul who will raise their voice aloud; “speak truth to power”
And gather all around them those who yet share Freedom’s dare
She was born a gifted healer, and became both guide and model
To a generation which now seeks an honor it can’t find
And she wields a sword of power, made of truth, and faith, and virtue
And she knows the ways of warriors of the soul and of the mind
She is guided by the Spirits of the wise ones who once flourished
They imbue her soul with wisdom in her heart and in her head
In their name, with Father’s blessing, she still sings the sacred stories
And shares secrets, signs, and totems of a People long thought dead
Let us rally, brothers, sisters, we from every clime and nation
To assist this honored teacher along the path she has been shown
Let us join our hearts and voices in the struggle all around us
That, together, we can yet reclaim the freedom few now own
THE LESSONS
After the poem was written, I did some quick research about Henry Wadsworth Longfellow and his great pean of the American Indians, "Song of Hiawatha". Mocked and maligned when first written, it has subsequently become an honored part of American folklore. In 1948, the town of Pipestone, Minnesota started a yearly "Hiawatha Pagent" which hundreds of thousands attended until its close in 2007. The cause of the event's demise? Casinos and home video games. A modern generation had no use for its ancestors' heroes.
The entire experience was personally instructive as I came to believe that Longfellow had been inspired to describe men and women of strength, virtue, and courage who had actually lived at the and place he envisioned. Such stalwarts, I thought to myself, will welcome the medicine woman to whom this inadequate piece was dedicated. What joy will fill her heart when she meets her ancestors, who will embrace her and praise her for her own service to the People and to God.
EXTENDED DISCUSSION: THE POETIC PROCESS [WARNING: LONG]
I can well imagine critics saying: “Spitting in Minnesota? What’s 'lovely, virtuous, or of good report' about that? This guy is not merely talent-less, but ridiculous!”
Let us put both this poem, and the entire web site and all these pieces (with comments etc.) in perspective. None of these are great poems. None will compel the world's respect. None will be truly enduring. One by one they were crafted for one person or group with the hope that they might be a small "tender mercy" or blessing. To one reader here, one reader there, and a few over there, these pieces have succeeded.
Given that context, this poem is a good place for me to explain how these 135 pieces (and counting) came to be. It will be a lengthy explanation, which I’ll present in “numbered point format”. I do this by direction--someone, somewhere, will be aided by my experience.
1. I have enjoyed reading poetry most of my life. However, I have no training in poetry. I have never taken a class in it. I have never been tutored in the art. I have no friends or mentors who guided my path. I have never joined any clubs, associations, or even on-line sites for poets. I am aware that many sophisticated names, descriptions, and discussions exist for various rhymes, meters, styles, and so-forth, but I do not know what they are. The process is entirely intuitive.
2. Somehow, I began writing “silly secular” poems. At a former workplace long ago I started dabbling in “clever rhymes”. They were for birthdays or to celebrate special events. These were all “Telestial Poems”. [The “Three Degrees” concept aka: "good, better, and best", applies often to this work.] They were, truly, “trifles”. They provided brief encouragement and passing pleasure to a few co-workers; and then vanished from view.
3. More than 24 years ago, I “grew up” when I was hospitalized—an event discussed in No. 41, “The Hospital” [my “secular favorite”]. That was the first time that, unbidden, I received what I deem “Divine Dictation”. The event changed my life. There followed a series of “Terrestrial Poems” which were salutary and serious, yet did not touch upon the Restored Gospel. I am blessed to know that these pieces were beneficial to their recipients. "The Hospital" has traveled around the globe. After No. 41 was published, I saw billboard ads soliciting job openings for nurses with "DARE TO CARE" in my own city--perhaps a mere coincidence.
4. I did not graduate to what I deem “Celestial based Poetry” focusing upon Jesus Christ and his Restored Church, until I recorded No. 1, “His Kingdom to Prepare”. I still deem that the greatest poetic blessing I have received from Heaven, and my overall favorite. From there, a host of spiritual and secular but serious poems followed, sometimes in batches and sometimes with intervals between the same. I have never, ever, sat down and said: “I’m going to write a poem today.” I have never demanded that Heaven give me verse. Nor have I ever felt that I was “owed” inspiration. However, events and people have sometimes so impacted my soul that I have asked Deity: "Is there something Thou wouldst have me say?"
5. To me, poetry involves a four part process with a four part series of after-effects, consequences, or developments:
a. “Data Mining/Virtue Packing”: Everyone "data mines". We use our earthly senses to collect facts about the world around us. Without conscious thought we are constantly evaluating, cross-referencing, comparing, and pondering these facts. For this piece, No. 104, I read a series of “comments” from a colleague on a website bulletin board whom I have never met, and never will, which gave me information about her background, family, interests, values, priorities, and concerns.
I am never "mining" frivolous matters. I feast on scriptures; conference reports; stories (both true and fictional) of courage, honor, and faith; uplifting music; and similar material. I have few of these "good things" memorized, but upon need, I may be inspired to recall elements of the same.
b. “Motivation”: Every poem was received for some special need—for specific people/groups past, present, or future who faced sorrow, fear, discouragement, doubt, pain or suffering. Learning of these profoundly deep needs, my heart is touched and I feel the parties' anxieties and injuries and begin to wonder, “Is there some way I can send comfort and love to these worthy sufferers?” The “data” assumed importance, and I experienced a “desire to serve”, but the “key” was lacking. This is a “Terrestrial” stage—honorable intentions and a desire to serve. It's "better" but not "best".
c. “The Key”: Every poem had a “key” or "trigger": a phrase, a title, a special verse, or a mental image, which served as an impetus to begin recordation. Keys cannot be forced. They arrive from Deity, if at all, and only in accordance with laws and procedures which I cannot comprehend. Receipt of the “key” is a great “Aha/Eureka/light bulb lit/switch turned on” moment. It is true that fasting, prayer, scripture study, and so forth are always helpful in this process, yet the “key” or "trigger" is never within my control. Only the “key/trigger” allows progress to a “Celestial” realm where need inspires application of facts to produce poetry. Are these pieces truly of "Celestial value"? Probably not, but they do meet the "best" criteria with regard to their purpose and their value to their recipients.
d. “Recordation”: With the receipt of the key or trigger, I generally become a mere “office machine”. I am not “composing” but “recording” what I am given. Early on, the process sometimes took days, and proceeded in fits and starts. Later, entire pieces start to finish were completed, albeit in rough form, in as little as 10 minutes. True, these are not works of art. However, to their (few) recipients and readers they are “virtuous, lovely, and of good report”.
There is one important sub-part to recordation: extrapolation, inference, and inspiration. The data mined is never enough. Implications, inferred facts, and revealed truths are added to raw data to produce a product which exceeds my mortal knowledge or comprehension. This was seen most dramatically by me in No. 99, “To a Woman of Tempered Steel”. The “key”, there, was an image of the Lord as blacksmith and artist in a Celestial smithy, shaping one of his most beloved daughters into a work of art through both adversity and blessing. Many little pieces of “fact” in that poem were “thought up/imagined/supplied” to me—amazingly, Mr. and Mrs. G later confirmed I was correct in all substantive matters and they marveled that I took a brief chronology and list of facts and events supplied by one friend and produced lengthy stories about their lives.
Now, it is true that I often “tweak/revise/proof/refine” pieces, sometimes even years after they are first printed, but that is all just an effort at technical improvement—the original creative process is both outside my control and, usually, inexplicably swift. I readily concede I have not mastered grammar, punctuation, and similar essentials.
In this regard, I am anxious to include MP3/WAV oral versions of these pieces--without any of the comments or scriptures. Each of these poems has an intended beat, cadence, emphasis, tone and pace. When read properly, grammar and punctuation rules are irrelevant. I eagerly await the day I can make mp3s of these pieces.
6. Once a poem has been recorded, there is a very consistent pattern of four subsequent steps:
a. “Humble gratitude and happiness”. I rejoice. I pray in thanks. Before my Diabetes I might fast in thanks. I feel a wonderful sense of unity, shared purpose, and common charity with Deity. I know I have been blessed to serve as “scribe, secretary, recorder” for the work.
b. “Spiritual attack”: Soon, however, doubts and fears arise: “This is a ridiculous trifle; no one will like it; you have presumed too much; this is cliche; this is a mere copy of other work--destroy it now or face shame and ridicule.” I know the source of such attacks. I persevere.
c. “Defense from Temptation”: I am forcefully impelled to pray, intensely, asking for confirmation that the work, notwithstanding its unquestionable limitations from my poor skills or spirit, should indeed be given to the intended recipients. The answer is always forceful and uplifting—I command my doubts to flee and promise Heaven I will see the product published, despite its flaws or crudity.
d. “Tender Mercies”: Having fought off the attack, and renewed my commitment to do whatever the Lord commands, I usually receive unbidden inspiration of a private and personal nature. As time passed, new pieces were among the "blessings" I received.
7. Based on the above, the reader may understand my frequent confessions of weakness and total dependence upon the Lord. “I do not think these things up, I just write them down.” And, my admission that “I am an idiot” will never be retracted. I am awed that Heaven has allowed me to strive to serve in this uncommon manner. However, I am equally persuaded that each child of God has his/her own unique gifts, of which I stand amazed and for which I praise and commend them.
8. More recent poems address themes of liberty, anticipation of Divine retribution upon our wicked world, and similar matters outside the “Core 90” focus upon service. I acknowledge that my views on such matters will not be shared by many. Well and good. Within the foreseeable future, I will either learn that I have erred—or my deep concerns will be vindicated. In this regard, my references to “warning our neighbors” are prescient. I AM COMPELLED TO RAISE MY VOICE IN ALARM AT THE WORLD’S NEAR-TOTAL EMBRACE OF EVIL. If I fail to speak, I shall lose not merely my gift, but my soul.
9. I have declined any invitations or opportunities to engage in emails, comments, discussions, and the like with the readers. The work is what it is. And, yes, I know that I have to revise No.s 18 and 128 to include accent marks and correct Spanish spellings. There is always much clean up to do. While allowing “comments” might expedite the correction process, I have good cause for my “standoffish” nature.
When I first started this collection, decades ago, I did have discussions with readers about some pieces, I was assailed with amazing criticisms: “Poetry should not rhyme, why does your so-called poetry rhyme? You are redundant, duplicative, inartful, and clueless! Your religious views are refuted by the Bible, and are the product of an evil mind. You court blasphemy!”
Once, I made my living with debate…oral and written advocacy…contention. Through the use of clever, yet critical prose, I won many a contest. I now avoid all such. Thus, I neither provide any opportunities for “dialogue” with readers nor do I supply information which invites comment to my residence. Defensive? Thin skinned? Probably--having abandoned "wars of words" I avoid the risk that my soul will be diminished or damaged by contention*. Thus, the work stands or falls as it is. So, if these pieces cheer, uplift, and comfort their intended recipients, I PRAISE GOD and acknowledge Deity as the source of all good.
(c) www.servingjesuspoetry.com
All non-commercial usage allowed
* 3 Nephi 18:34--" And I give you these commandments because of the disputations which have been among you. And blessed are ye if ye have no disputations among you.
[Extended Poetic Process Discussion below]
Context:
I was one of tens of thousands of members of a popular on-line peparedness forum. It was a vast congregation of like minded individuals, both fiercely private and collegial. Everyone had their own personal "pen name" and "avatar"--no actual names or addresses were given. We enthusiastically exchanged advice and views on many preparedness subjects.
I often frequented the "Books" section. One articulate and deeply caring individual there was a Native American who could trace her ancestry back to such legends as Sitting Bull. In her tribe, she is a healer and a sage, dedicated to serving needy children. They, like many others, call themselves "The People". In part, we know their ancestors included Book of Mormon peoples.
MOTIVATION:
One winter, this "medicine woman" (which was a title given to the tribe's healers) informed us that she was grievously injured and was struggling to recover despite "-32 degree cold and snow in Minnesota". When I read that, I thought to myself: "That's so cold, your spit would freeze before it hit the ground." A figurative "light bulb" appeared above my head. Sixty minutes later, the following was completed. This process is explained and amplified below. I remain totally baffled why this unknown woman, who described herself as "short, fat, and ugly" eventually served as both motivation and subject of multiple poems. This is the first and most important of the same:
Warrior of the Soul and Mind
There is a place in Minnesota where the winters grow so chilly
That your spit will freeze before it hits the ground to which its thrown
Lives a daughter of the People who preserves their rich traditions
And who heals the troubled spirits of the children she has known
She is heir to Hiawatha, he of fabled song and story
He whose name became a touchstone of a way of life long gone
For his heirs were hurt and scattered by the wicked who thought glory
Was to purge the Earth of every good thing it had known
The defilers called it “progress” that a land once pure and golden
Would become a place of sorrow, would become a place of fear
For the liberties and values of a People blessed by Father
Would be poisoned and corrupted till their rivers ran with tears
Yet against the white man’s wizards and the treacheries of traitors
This choice maiden still gives battle with the powers Father shares
To each soul who will raise their voice aloud; “speak truth to power”
And gather all around them those who yet share Freedom’s dare
She was born a gifted healer, and became both guide and model
To a generation which now seeks an honor it can’t find
And she wields a sword of power, made of truth, and faith, and virtue
And she knows the ways of warriors of the soul and of the mind
She is guided by the Spirits of the wise ones who once flourished
They imbue her soul with wisdom in her heart and in her head
In their name, with Father’s blessing, she still sings the sacred stories
And shares secrets, signs, and totems of a People long thought dead
Let us rally, brothers, sisters, we from every clime and nation
To assist this honored teacher along the path she has been shown
Let us join our hearts and voices in the struggle all around us
That, together, we can yet reclaim the freedom few now own
THE LESSONS
After the poem was written, I did some quick research about Henry Wadsworth Longfellow and his great pean of the American Indians, "Song of Hiawatha". Mocked and maligned when first written, it has subsequently become an honored part of American folklore. In 1948, the town of Pipestone, Minnesota started a yearly "Hiawatha Pagent" which hundreds of thousands attended until its close in 2007. The cause of the event's demise? Casinos and home video games. A modern generation had no use for its ancestors' heroes.
The entire experience was personally instructive as I came to believe that Longfellow had been inspired to describe men and women of strength, virtue, and courage who had actually lived at the and place he envisioned. Such stalwarts, I thought to myself, will welcome the medicine woman to whom this inadequate piece was dedicated. What joy will fill her heart when she meets her ancestors, who will embrace her and praise her for her own service to the People and to God.
EXTENDED DISCUSSION: THE POETIC PROCESS [WARNING: LONG]
I can well imagine critics saying: “Spitting in Minnesota? What’s 'lovely, virtuous, or of good report' about that? This guy is not merely talent-less, but ridiculous!”
Let us put both this poem, and the entire web site and all these pieces (with comments etc.) in perspective. None of these are great poems. None will compel the world's respect. None will be truly enduring. One by one they were crafted for one person or group with the hope that they might be a small "tender mercy" or blessing. To one reader here, one reader there, and a few over there, these pieces have succeeded.
Given that context, this poem is a good place for me to explain how these 135 pieces (and counting) came to be. It will be a lengthy explanation, which I’ll present in “numbered point format”. I do this by direction--someone, somewhere, will be aided by my experience.
1. I have enjoyed reading poetry most of my life. However, I have no training in poetry. I have never taken a class in it. I have never been tutored in the art. I have no friends or mentors who guided my path. I have never joined any clubs, associations, or even on-line sites for poets. I am aware that many sophisticated names, descriptions, and discussions exist for various rhymes, meters, styles, and so-forth, but I do not know what they are. The process is entirely intuitive.
2. Somehow, I began writing “silly secular” poems. At a former workplace long ago I started dabbling in “clever rhymes”. They were for birthdays or to celebrate special events. These were all “Telestial Poems”. [The “Three Degrees” concept aka: "good, better, and best", applies often to this work.] They were, truly, “trifles”. They provided brief encouragement and passing pleasure to a few co-workers; and then vanished from view.
3. More than 24 years ago, I “grew up” when I was hospitalized—an event discussed in No. 41, “The Hospital” [my “secular favorite”]. That was the first time that, unbidden, I received what I deem “Divine Dictation”. The event changed my life. There followed a series of “Terrestrial Poems” which were salutary and serious, yet did not touch upon the Restored Gospel. I am blessed to know that these pieces were beneficial to their recipients. "The Hospital" has traveled around the globe. After No. 41 was published, I saw billboard ads soliciting job openings for nurses with "DARE TO CARE" in my own city--perhaps a mere coincidence.
4. I did not graduate to what I deem “Celestial based Poetry” focusing upon Jesus Christ and his Restored Church, until I recorded No. 1, “His Kingdom to Prepare”. I still deem that the greatest poetic blessing I have received from Heaven, and my overall favorite. From there, a host of spiritual and secular but serious poems followed, sometimes in batches and sometimes with intervals between the same. I have never, ever, sat down and said: “I’m going to write a poem today.” I have never demanded that Heaven give me verse. Nor have I ever felt that I was “owed” inspiration. However, events and people have sometimes so impacted my soul that I have asked Deity: "Is there something Thou wouldst have me say?"
5. To me, poetry involves a four part process with a four part series of after-effects, consequences, or developments:
a. “Data Mining/Virtue Packing”: Everyone "data mines". We use our earthly senses to collect facts about the world around us. Without conscious thought we are constantly evaluating, cross-referencing, comparing, and pondering these facts. For this piece, No. 104, I read a series of “comments” from a colleague on a website bulletin board whom I have never met, and never will, which gave me information about her background, family, interests, values, priorities, and concerns.
I am never "mining" frivolous matters. I feast on scriptures; conference reports; stories (both true and fictional) of courage, honor, and faith; uplifting music; and similar material. I have few of these "good things" memorized, but upon need, I may be inspired to recall elements of the same.
b. “Motivation”: Every poem was received for some special need—for specific people/groups past, present, or future who faced sorrow, fear, discouragement, doubt, pain or suffering. Learning of these profoundly deep needs, my heart is touched and I feel the parties' anxieties and injuries and begin to wonder, “Is there some way I can send comfort and love to these worthy sufferers?” The “data” assumed importance, and I experienced a “desire to serve”, but the “key” was lacking. This is a “Terrestrial” stage—honorable intentions and a desire to serve. It's "better" but not "best".
c. “The Key”: Every poem had a “key” or "trigger": a phrase, a title, a special verse, or a mental image, which served as an impetus to begin recordation. Keys cannot be forced. They arrive from Deity, if at all, and only in accordance with laws and procedures which I cannot comprehend. Receipt of the “key” is a great “Aha/Eureka/light bulb lit/switch turned on” moment. It is true that fasting, prayer, scripture study, and so forth are always helpful in this process, yet the “key” or "trigger" is never within my control. Only the “key/trigger” allows progress to a “Celestial” realm where need inspires application of facts to produce poetry. Are these pieces truly of "Celestial value"? Probably not, but they do meet the "best" criteria with regard to their purpose and their value to their recipients.
d. “Recordation”: With the receipt of the key or trigger, I generally become a mere “office machine”. I am not “composing” but “recording” what I am given. Early on, the process sometimes took days, and proceeded in fits and starts. Later, entire pieces start to finish were completed, albeit in rough form, in as little as 10 minutes. True, these are not works of art. However, to their (few) recipients and readers they are “virtuous, lovely, and of good report”.
There is one important sub-part to recordation: extrapolation, inference, and inspiration. The data mined is never enough. Implications, inferred facts, and revealed truths are added to raw data to produce a product which exceeds my mortal knowledge or comprehension. This was seen most dramatically by me in No. 99, “To a Woman of Tempered Steel”. The “key”, there, was an image of the Lord as blacksmith and artist in a Celestial smithy, shaping one of his most beloved daughters into a work of art through both adversity and blessing. Many little pieces of “fact” in that poem were “thought up/imagined/supplied” to me—amazingly, Mr. and Mrs. G later confirmed I was correct in all substantive matters and they marveled that I took a brief chronology and list of facts and events supplied by one friend and produced lengthy stories about their lives.
Now, it is true that I often “tweak/revise/proof/refine” pieces, sometimes even years after they are first printed, but that is all just an effort at technical improvement—the original creative process is both outside my control and, usually, inexplicably swift. I readily concede I have not mastered grammar, punctuation, and similar essentials.
In this regard, I am anxious to include MP3/WAV oral versions of these pieces--without any of the comments or scriptures. Each of these poems has an intended beat, cadence, emphasis, tone and pace. When read properly, grammar and punctuation rules are irrelevant. I eagerly await the day I can make mp3s of these pieces.
6. Once a poem has been recorded, there is a very consistent pattern of four subsequent steps:
a. “Humble gratitude and happiness”. I rejoice. I pray in thanks. Before my Diabetes I might fast in thanks. I feel a wonderful sense of unity, shared purpose, and common charity with Deity. I know I have been blessed to serve as “scribe, secretary, recorder” for the work.
b. “Spiritual attack”: Soon, however, doubts and fears arise: “This is a ridiculous trifle; no one will like it; you have presumed too much; this is cliche; this is a mere copy of other work--destroy it now or face shame and ridicule.” I know the source of such attacks. I persevere.
c. “Defense from Temptation”: I am forcefully impelled to pray, intensely, asking for confirmation that the work, notwithstanding its unquestionable limitations from my poor skills or spirit, should indeed be given to the intended recipients. The answer is always forceful and uplifting—I command my doubts to flee and promise Heaven I will see the product published, despite its flaws or crudity.
d. “Tender Mercies”: Having fought off the attack, and renewed my commitment to do whatever the Lord commands, I usually receive unbidden inspiration of a private and personal nature. As time passed, new pieces were among the "blessings" I received.
7. Based on the above, the reader may understand my frequent confessions of weakness and total dependence upon the Lord. “I do not think these things up, I just write them down.” And, my admission that “I am an idiot” will never be retracted. I am awed that Heaven has allowed me to strive to serve in this uncommon manner. However, I am equally persuaded that each child of God has his/her own unique gifts, of which I stand amazed and for which I praise and commend them.
8. More recent poems address themes of liberty, anticipation of Divine retribution upon our wicked world, and similar matters outside the “Core 90” focus upon service. I acknowledge that my views on such matters will not be shared by many. Well and good. Within the foreseeable future, I will either learn that I have erred—or my deep concerns will be vindicated. In this regard, my references to “warning our neighbors” are prescient. I AM COMPELLED TO RAISE MY VOICE IN ALARM AT THE WORLD’S NEAR-TOTAL EMBRACE OF EVIL. If I fail to speak, I shall lose not merely my gift, but my soul.
9. I have declined any invitations or opportunities to engage in emails, comments, discussions, and the like with the readers. The work is what it is. And, yes, I know that I have to revise No.s 18 and 128 to include accent marks and correct Spanish spellings. There is always much clean up to do. While allowing “comments” might expedite the correction process, I have good cause for my “standoffish” nature.
When I first started this collection, decades ago, I did have discussions with readers about some pieces, I was assailed with amazing criticisms: “Poetry should not rhyme, why does your so-called poetry rhyme? You are redundant, duplicative, inartful, and clueless! Your religious views are refuted by the Bible, and are the product of an evil mind. You court blasphemy!”
Once, I made my living with debate…oral and written advocacy…contention. Through the use of clever, yet critical prose, I won many a contest. I now avoid all such. Thus, I neither provide any opportunities for “dialogue” with readers nor do I supply information which invites comment to my residence. Defensive? Thin skinned? Probably--having abandoned "wars of words" I avoid the risk that my soul will be diminished or damaged by contention*. Thus, the work stands or falls as it is. So, if these pieces cheer, uplift, and comfort their intended recipients, I PRAISE GOD and acknowledge Deity as the source of all good.
(c) www.servingjesuspoetry.com
All non-commercial usage allowed
* 3 Nephi 18:34--" And I give you these commandments because of the disputations which have been among you. And blessed are ye if ye have no disputations among you.