I am a Dash

Who am I?
          A line, a dash,
A little space between two dates—
Little dates with honor's weight,
Little dates with baseness splashed.

Connecting finish to the start,
I fill the fullness of this time:
While toiling in the pure sublime
Or squand'ring all or even part.

How should I live to fill this space?
What purpose shall my life pursue?
I know I cannot worth accrue,
While life sits idly by its race.

For springtime turns to fall too soon,
Then winter with its discontent;
I want to see my life well-spent,
Not lived in waste nor anguished ruin.

So to my God I'll turn my heart,
My soul will closely follow Him;
My life well-lived as joyous hymn
Will purpose to my dash impart.

- D. Benning

Salvation's Hymn

Praise my soul, the King of Heav'n above;
Praise Him, Lord of all the Earth,
Mighty Potentate and God of Love,
Author of thy second birth.
From this heart shall praise flow endless days,
blessing God, the Holy One:
Clothed in righteousness I stand amazed
at Mercy and Grace begun.

Look upon His cross and dying shame,
oh, my soul, it was for thee!
Look, He took thy guilt, thy sin, thy blame,
as He died on Calvary.
That day turned to night and from that fight
sprang salvation's Genesis;
And above the Cross in shining light,
His Mercy and Justice kissed.

See, He carries thee upon His arms,
Lo! He draws thee to His breast;
and there is no danger nor a harm
that may take thee from His rest!
Thou needst no more fear; He bidst thee cheer,
trav'ling through this world of strife;
and then on that Day, thy vision clear,
thou shalt pass from here to Life!

 

Praise the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost,
Blessed Lord and God on High,
Worship Him, O Earth and Heav'nly host;
come, ye seraphs and angels, nigh;
Then with upward wing and voice now sing,
Blessing God the Three in One.
Saints around His feet all triune bring,
worship Him for vict'ries won.

- D. Benning

Click here to hear the hymn

Fire, Ice, and Spew

With apologies to Robert Frost

 
Some say the world will end in fire
Other say in ice.
From what I’ve tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.

Yet there be those who hold this view:
That worldliness and vice
Are not destroyed with fire and ice.
But moral lethargy's accrue
With lukewarm senses dulled so nice,
Divine justice will spit and spew.

- D. Benning

Compare Rev 3:16  NKJV
"So then, because you are lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot, I will vomit you out of My mouth."


Note: the first stanza is Robert Frost's poem "Fire and Ice"

 

Truly Our God

Truly our God is a gracious God;
(Oh, let my heart beat for You!)
Without His help I would surely slip,
And forget His love is true!
Then as one who awakes from a dream,
I saw His Glory and what His love means!

   Chorus
   Whom have I in heaven but You!
   Earth holds no treasure for me!
   I long for You: my sweet portion You are!
   You take my hand and guide me
                                        into Your Home!


Once all the day I was plagued in thought;
My mornings chastened with greed.
Was all my life before God in vain?
Does not my God see my need?
Then my mind once again turned to Him:
How at the cross He redeemed me from sin!

   Chorus


When my heart grieved and my spirit pined,
Senseless was I before You.
Why should I care what the wicked has
Or what he says or can do?
For I will always be with You, my King;
Before Your face I shall joyfully sing!

   Chorus

My flesh and my heart may surely fail;
God is the strength of my heart.
In Him I trust; He is my desire,
And my portion for all times.
But those who are far off He will destroy.
I've made Jehovah my refuge and joy!

   Chorus

- D. Benning

See and listen to the music here.

An extended music video mixing The Doxology with 

Psalm 73 set with images of wonder.

Autumn Whispers

Autumn whispers, calling those who hear,
   whispering peace and rest and soft enfolding.
Tenderly she speaks with muted voice and soundless deeds,
   paints her colors on the landscape, chilling breath within each lung,
   delicately drapes the trees and hills with wispy veil,
   lovingly then sighs of hopes and dreams that lie unsung;
      but firmly curbs the chance and hope that anything succeeds—
         root, tuber, spore and corn, inkling, germ and seeds—
   lie dormant down as aged men sleep and dream to yet again be young.

But Autumn speaks in jagged tones to those who listen not,
   blowing wildly on their untamed plans and projects still unfolding.
Sternly how she shouts and utters, howls and flutters ceaselessly,
   smiting hard the grasses, blades, and bushes—flowers fade—
   tearing leaf by leaf each tree denudes till starkly stands,  
   coldly blowing hard on summer's half-done art and trade,
      till nature hangs her head in mute assent and then agrees
          that Springtime thoughts are not a refuge for to flee—
   now sadly lies midst dingy leaves and sorrows weighed.

But Autumn speaks of turning and returning if you'd hear:
   cold her touch of ice and restless wind will turn again to Spring.
Her dazzling blaze of colors calls the heart to long,
   paints the hope and imprint of a coming Spring once more,
   nestles wish and aspiration in the long, dark night,
   calls to mind the days of yore and points to faith's implore,
      though the night be dark with tempests howling cold and strong,
         she tends belief of right o'er wrong with quiet song,
   and settles down to dream of Springtime's coming store!

- D. Benning