Thursday, December 25, 2014

God in a Manger



The butt of my staff is clicking nervously upon this path, my heart and mind are one with anticipation
I have seen a host of angels, and I am but a shepherd, should I proceed with trepidation
"Come,' they sang,'glory to God in the highest," we shall find a babe wrapped in humility, lying in obedience
Peace on earth and good will toward men, what sort of child could merit this experience
The star of David hanging like a crown, high above this little King, and I, a shepherd, witness to these things
A holy night, a mother glowing, what  have I fit to bring
To God as He lies in this manger, and yet above everything
What do I have that He has not given me, my house, my children, my wife
And so I give it back to Him, the maker of my life
Calvin  "Cheese Grits" Yerke



Monday, December 8, 2014

Fire By Night



I thought I stepped out strong, on my own two feet
Like a warrior, I pictured myself not excepting defeat
Standing like a rock, when others would retreat

Off to battle I marched
What's this, you say, "the battle is over there my friend, you're heading the wrong way"
And so I turn to follow you, as you stare at clouds all day

As night falls thick around our feet, what will you follow now
But as the words move to my lips, the light is all around
When it stops, then so do we, that is where we camp
This is the chosen ground

How far are we from battle, Sir
"We are in it as we speak"
"If we don't win this part of it, then all is lost for good"
This is not the battle I enlisted for, nor do I think I would
There is nothing you can say right now, none of it makes sense

"Maybe you are not prepared, did you not understand the stakes"
Unprepared for what, this must be some mistake
I came for blood, and to give my own, I left fear in Goshen
But you would have me fight myself, I came for other men

"The battle is already under way, and I'm curious, will you win"
Where is the glory in this, I say, where shall I find my take
"What part of this belongs to you, where did you begin
Where does glory fit my friend, what did we ever make

- Calvin "Cheese Grits" Yerke

Wednesday, December 3, 2014

Soul Spelunking



At first I stumbled awkwardly through dark and cloudy streams
Underneath the mountain, searching for misplaced shiny things
And though I pretend to talk to you, I do not hear your words
Just sounds of muttering
My eyes have grown much larger now, and fill my aching head
Disproportionate, you say, but your as good as dead
Where did I put that blasted thing, my precious little ring
Too much light, you bring with you my eyes begin to sting
You need it though to comfort you, for your just passing through
But if I steal it from your hand, then what will you do
I shall make a law down here, no light will be allowed
Everything shall walk the same, covered by this shroud
Then you will wish for eyes like mine, as I hunt you through eternal night
That would seem quite fair to me, so much I hate your light

Calvin "Cheese Grits" Yerke