Half Mast

I pass old glory, on my way to places we just left

And last time we noted her half mast

Will she ever rise above half way, tis death

And how long shall it last

My friend cried out bout guns last week

And the media shares his mind

But in a place called Nice this week

Seems trucks are not so kind

It reminds me of a story past

When violence filled the earth

And God, from holy places, watching

Comes to regret man's birth

Then for 120 years a man is mocked and scorned

By his fellow men of course, who for pride cannot be warned 

And hear it is in my time now

Another crazy man has come

To tell old stories once again

But the world is growing numb

The Kentucky preacher will mourn the loss and speak out against man's disregard for life

But he bothers you so much with this that you must create such strife

I'm driving back, and on the edge of rain and burning dry

There rest a brilliant bow of color, a prism in the sky

A reminder of a promise made a long, long time ago

These waters will not rise again, though men may sink so low

So this finite raises the question then, of infinite, eternal good

And what of justice in such a realm, or an ark that's made of wood

It cannot make the trip this time for it was made with human hands

But the Son of God, my Savior, Lord, that Ark forever stands

- Calvin Yerke

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Home Until

There are some roads that I need not think too much,  past the first turn
And at the end of what I once called home there is now a precipice
But heaven has not shut the door and I no longer shake my fist
To see it all so quietly, just think, you were mad because of this
I understood, but not really
I loved, but I could not
I had a friend, but I wasn't
I was noble, or so I thought
Why is it the curse of youth to pretend at being wise
Ungrateful for the gifts God sends, all these blessed lives
Because if the house were sold tomorrow, and the occupants all went away
Then the road was only temporary, and home is another day

Calvin "Cheese Grits" Yerke

I lived with the Robinson family as a young man, and they took in and loved an often ungrateful and rebellious teen. They provided me with shelter, food and a father figure in Howard that I had not previously had. It was a strange concept for me, growing up with a single mom, but there I was, watching a man go to work, help me with my car, and trying to give me advice on life. I have often regretted not listening, but I have never regretted the time I spent there, and they have always been home to me, and now at 42, I can say with all sincerity, thank you, I am truly grateful. I will miss you Howard, for a little while.

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Fishing for Sincerity

I am most thoroughly convinced of something that will affect you, and everyone
But it is so much easier to keep it to myself and run
Knowing that at every point we disagree, you will say it is because of hate
And here it comes, why do I bother? Why do I wait?
But if I run, than the opposite of hate, I cannot claim
Except by way of shallowness and only to my shame
But those that know me, know the truth, that I would rather take up rod and reel
Yet here I am, begging now, for other than I feel

Calvin "Cheese Grits" Yerke

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Fire Proofing

The proofing is not inside, as all that burns to ash
And the standing there, convinced of not, in the furnace, but a flash
Covered by material, external to myself
Borrowed oversimplifies the nature of it's health
I'm reminded of a story that took place long ago
3 men that would not let go
I smile at the guard as he ushers us inside
He stops me for the smile, curious as to why
I point inside the furnace, to a figure without burn
Smiling back at me, as I come to take my turn
"I really have to go now, He's waiting for me there."
The guard cannot make words now, he can only stare
I pat him on the shoulder and head up to the door
The guard can finally speak again, and asks, "who are you moving towards?"
"Tis the Word and you can read about Him, my covering, my proof
And know that I forgive you friend," I say, and pass beneath this roof

-Calvin "Cheese Grits" Yerke

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Brick and Mortar

Now I see through a glass dimly, but then face to face
Now I know in part but then shall I also know
Even as I am fully known
Is my faith rational, you ask me
It presupposes that I nor any other creature knows all things
It acknowledges that I can be like all others, irrational
It looks though, upon the house, that still stands from before anyone alive can remember
And acknowledges there was a builder
Many schools of thought arise to who this builder be
Some will say there was none, and that the world just fools the naked eye
It gives the appearance of design, but that that is not the driving force
If I said this about the house I live in they would think me mad
Look at the wood, obviously it has seen the saw
Those are concrete blocks, they point out and look how evenly they are stacked
The earth, the universe, so much more complex than the house
Larger than the span of time to which we are held
To me it just says something to the magnificence of the Builder
For all that it acknowledges, faith is not irrational, it is a gift
When it no longer acknowledges its inability, reliance
 Or comes from other than the promise of the Creator
It is no longer faith
It is a magical force, derived by irrational thinking in a mind that was designed to be capable of rational thought
I read the Bible much more now and I have yet to find a more honest approach or definer to the condition and state of men
Faith comes by hearing and hearing by the Word of God, and so by this, in accordance, all us could not be faith

From Genesis to Revelation I see design, the Creation, man's fall, God's redemptive plan for this. It is across thousands of years and so many writers, the story of a God Who cannot change in His relation to sin, but a God Who is also love, and so being more of action than mere words, He makes the only sacrifice feasible to eternal justice. The sacrifice of Himself is the only one fit for eternity.

I praise God for Who He is, and for extending His gifts of grace and faith to sinners like me. 

My faith did not originate from me, therefore I am not the creator of my faith, and so as it rest in God, Who cannot be irrational like men, it is most rational.

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Stress Free

If I had to eat, then I was a slave to my belly
But if I stole or lied to feed
Then whose slave would I be
And who is the master of my greed
Or has it mastered me
Anxious is the heart of want, unsettled is the soul of gain
And what did you get that was not given
Shut my mouth and clean my heart; don't leave the smallest stain
Take my eyes, my hands as well and use them to your end
For love, and not for sacrifice, so let my life begin
Calvin "Cheese Grits" Yerke

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Quickening

In the reading of the law, I came upon the hearing
And so it goes they trembled, but I don't feel a thing
I laid it down unmoved, the book upon the table
I told it to be quiet, and still no angels sing
They preferred the voice of Moses, but its God's that I demand
What were they afraid of? I just don't understand
And so my time in decades fall, have I become so wise
A nest of gray rests on my chin for the crows beneath my eyes
Cleaning house the other day, I came upon it in a drawer
I opened it and read the law, but it did not make this sound before
And every time I shut my eyes I saw a little more
I begged it to be quiet now, just like things were before

Calvin "Cheese Grits" Yerke

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Bot a Glove

One adult and three wee bairns please, I tell the lad at the gate
And for two notes he bids me enter, the lasses cannot wait
I'm hit with pipes and percussion waves, my lip curls to a smile
Tis the games I love so much that turn me to a child
Ah for the want a long time makes, my belly hunts for pies
And with a shot of H&P, oh stop, I'm going to cry

We watch the collies run their flock, sometimes through audience
My daughters love the interaction, they're glad there is no fence
They watch the girls upon the stage, dance about a sword
And then there was the ice cream stand, I seem them moving toward

My heart is stirred as the clans all march, led by the bag pipe's song
I thank the Lord I'm standing here, two years is far too long
And as I search the tartans, I come upon a pattern that I should like to wear
Far too old to worry now, and much too Scot to care
The laughter of some little boys was drowned out long ago
And grateful now am I, for the things I know

Calvin "Cheese Grits" Yerke

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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

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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

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