Lions & Trees, You & Me

Sitting in the garden alone,

            I pray out to the Lord who sits on His throne.

I marvel at His majesty,

            and wonder why He would ever think of me.

I am just a sinful man,

            tainted by the world, with sin on my hands.

The words I pray are quiet and small;

            how could they ever matter to the Lord of All?


Sunday morning we all sing,

            lifting up our voices in praise to the King.

Some will raise their hands to the sky

            while others will kneel down to pray and to cry.

In unison we glorify,

            but our words are often empty and our hearts so dry.

Five hundred voices harmonize,

            and yet they do no justice to the Lord on High.


Angels in the heavenly clouds,

            dancing and rejoicing and shouting out loud.

It’s an overwhelming sight,

            joyful explosions of both sound and light.

Even the lions and the trees

            are leaping in worship and bowing on their knees.

But still it’s simply not enough

            to glorify a God who is so glorious.


Yet somehow God is more than pleased;

            He’s filled with joy at the dancing of the trees.

He’s also honored by our songs;

            even sung by sinners, He’d hear us all day long.

He is even happy with me;

            a long lost son who’s come home on his knees.

Our God is oh so glorious,

            yet He still longs to love and be loved by us.

Box of Dreams

I used to roam the neighborhood,
When I was just a kid dreaming like everybody should.
I kept my head up in the clouds,
Always speaking soft but thinking things out loud.

You know, the years kept rolling by,
Dream after dream would get left by the wayside.
I wish it hadn’t happened that way,
I don’t know where they went but guess what I found today.

A “Box of Dreams”
Overflowing at the seams,
My “Box of Dreams”
Still shining bright like sunbeams!
That “Box of Dreams”
Is so much more than it would seem
So won’t you please
Start your very own “Box of Dreams”!

I used to run all over the town,
My heart would speed up but my thoughts would slow right down.
I kept my eyes out in front of me,
Ready to discover whatever I was meant to be.

But life got busy, you know,
I had to work to pay to live to see tomorrow.
So I started thinking a lot,
But living in the past I know I’ll miss what the future’s got.

A “Box of Dreams”
Overflowing at the seams
My “Box of Dreams”
Still shining bright like sunbeams!
That “Box of Dreams”
Is so much more than it would seem
So won’t you please
Start your very own “Box of Dreams”!

Now I keep my head up high,
I’m dreaming every day but my eyes are open wide.
My feet are firm on the ground,
Chasing all those dreams that I used to give the run around.

I like to write my thoughts out,
So whenever people read them they’ll know what I’m all about.
So, friend, if you’re ever free,
Start a list, fill a box with everything you’ve ever dreamed.

A “Box of Dreams”
Overflowing at the seams
My “Box of Dreams”
Still shining bright like sunbeams!
That “Box of Dreams”
Is so much more than it would seem
So won’t you please
Start your very own “Box of Dreams”!


“Thump, thump,” goes the heart.

“Pat, pat, pat,” move the feet.

“Do, re, mi,” sings the voice.

But what should be of your soul?

“Swish, swoosh,” blows the wind.

“Crash,” and then “Shhhhh,” speak the waves.

“Chirp, chirp, chirp,” sing the birds.

But what should be of your spirit?

“Vroom, vroom,” roars the engine.

“Tick, tock,” clicks the clock.

“Beep, beep, beep,” sounds the alarm.

But what should be of your song?

The empty soul is hollow,

The distant spirit is silent,

The sound within is frightening,

For those who do not know…

The satisfied soul is joyful!

It sings at the top of its lungs,

It leaps and bounds, rejoicing,

The God-filled soul is alive!

The active spirit is a marvel!

It whispers in wisdom and peace,

It speaks in Psalms and hymns,

The lively spirit is a revelation!

The song from within is thunderous!

It sings and sings, never ceasing,

It’s joyous and sunny and wonderful,

The inner song is one of victory!

Each soul may choose its content.

Each spirit may invite its sound.

Each song is chosen by its singer.
Each life is lived by its given body.

So, the soul is yours to fill.

The spirit is there for inviting.

The song is yours to sing.

And your job is to sound them all.

The Soul of God is everlasting!

The Spirit of God is eternal!

The Song of God is never-ending!

All you have to do is let him in.

The purpose of the soul is to glorify.

The purpose of the spirit is to guide.

The purpose of the song is to rejoice.

And the purpose of sound is to share.

So let your soul be loud in love!

Let your spirit be heard in wisdom!

Let your song be one of praise!

And let your life be one worth sharing!

Joy Bones

Silence your shrieking and still your skin

            to taste of the sweetness there within.

Hush your harking and hold your heart

            close to the source of singing’s start.

Rid your day of the rolling waves

            that heave their sickness upon your tray.

Nix the noise of the barking cold

            that wrestles rejoicing from your soul.

Breathe for a moment. Pause and rest,

            and count the blessings of your breast.

Rest for a moment. Pause and breathe,

            inhale the newness of the passing breeze.

Close your eyes and imagine the night

            where the moon is hidden like its light.

Imagine that night is the last of its kind

            for the dawn that breaks will break for all time.

The explosion of light awakens your bones,

            releasing the burden of cumbersome stones.

The unbearable load of the weight you bore

            has been set free to return no more.

A beating drum rumbles deep inside

            an infectious beat that blows your mind.

It breaks the rhythm of the doldrums rut

            and tickles your bones with anything but.

Riddles roll from the depths of your soul

            like the innocent hours of eras old.

They jump and bounce and rattle you so

            and return to your motionless life its flow.

So light and life are bursting from your seams

            in melodies and songs and joyful screams.

There’s a flight in your step, a tone in your voice,

            a liberation in your soul, a direction in your choice.

That silent soul, that hapless heart,

            those burdened bones will all depart.

Here is a harmony, and all can hear it,

            it echoes in your bones, resounds in your Spirit.

There’s a joy eternal, a joy beyond words,

            a joy indescribable, whose echo is heard.

It’s a joy unbridled, a joy so divine,

            a joy that rumbles in your bones, and mine.

The Painter’s Lullaby

The sun comes up on its canvas,

a canvas that we call the sky;

it’s as blue as the purest waters,

wider than a child’s eyes.

The painter glides his brush on the surface,

moving the sun to its peak;

we glisten in the heat of its fervor,

as bright as the night is bleak.

Though soon the sun strokes its way down,

eclipsed by the artist’s next page;

it’s been returned to its bed for the evening,

like the bird that flocks to her cage.

But then the moon will climb to its heights,

reminding us that the sun still shines;

the face of the crescent is smiling,

“Sweet dreams, dear child of mine.”

In the morning I’ll paint a new day,

and the sun will rise like before;

so sleep tight, my child, my beloved,

and trust you’ll awake once more.

To Be Free

Of all the places that I have ever breathed

Not one of them is left with the slightest piece of me

And though I carry with me every sight I’ve ever seen

I am free…

Stunning the volcano all covered up with snow

Off away in Neverland like dreams born of the soul

But there is no obstacle for which I’ll ever slow

Now watch me go…

In the past I don’t think I even gave a try

Discouraged by the doubts that clouded up my mind

All the fears I had, they ate me up inside

But I’ve arrived…

All the broken hopes that dwindled down to none

Have been relit by everything that I have overcome

Darkness, and loneliness, and the Devil I have stunned

Here I come…

The rivers and the valleys that I have had to bear

Were the only company along the road I’d share

But not for a moment did I leave myself out there

I’m not theirs…

Of all the places that I have yet to breathe

Not one of them a single shard of my soul will receive

For only to freedom will I finally concede

All of me…

Al aire libre

De todos los lugares que allá conocí
Ninguno se quedó con una parte de mí
Llevo conmigo cada uno de los que vi
Pero libre soy…

Lindo cubierto con nieve es el volcán
Lejano como sueños que jamás llegarán
Pero los desafíos no me detendrán
Pa’ allá me voy…

En el pasado no lo podía alcanzar
Desanimado por las dudas del azar
Todos los miedos me solían abrumar
Pero llegó hoy…

Las esperanzas rotas que antes yo llevé
Se han arreglado por todo lo que conquisté
Las tinieblas, la soledad, al diablo derroté
Tan fuerte soy…

Los mares, los valles que yo atravesé
Eran los únicos alientos que necesité
Pero en ningún momento a ellos me entregué
Adelante voy…

De todos los lugares que aún conoceré
Tampoco a ellos me entregaré
Porque a la libertad, al aire libre
Yo me doy…