A prayer poem

That turning point in history, inked signatures on the page

Alive with promises to keep; they made the age

New. Declared “independence.” Severed ties with distant kings. 

Looked ahead… 

To finer things,

And freer men,

And peace for all their children’s children.

Could they see the cost, the blood and tears,

The corpses piled high, battle by battle,

Bitter harvest of years

Of War?

Foreseen or not, each paid the price: strife, and then, life.

Martyrs all, to a new nation.

Costly freedom, even won – 

so rare –

Demands payment in kind from all who gather here

(All seeking finer, freer ages

And peace for the pages

Of history yet to be written)

Freedom is never free, and those who would claim it can never be

At ease 

Else it will slip away and cease

And all the old kings and tyrannies, waiting in the wings

Will rush back in to fill the void

And what has been so long enjoyed

Will disappear.

This year, the day of celebration 

Birth of Freedom / birth of nation

Falls on a Sunday

Begs the question: what is true freedom?

Patriots or no, our lives are brief

And fleeting; our belief

Must reach beyond the span of time we breathe

If we are to receive

The freedom purchased for us with the blood

Of One whose perfect love liberates forever and forever

“God bless America”

He has! He does! He will!

But He has larger purposes still:

To bless the world. To bless you.

“Give me liberty or give me death” 

Or, with His final breath,

“Forgive them, Father, for they know not what they do.”

That freedom is the true and lasting freedom

Consider: the costly peace procured

Once, for all

For you

Blood and tears, the weight of years,

The ultimate sum of all fears,

Borne – 

For you.

Fireworks blaze the summer night

Splendor, color, flood the sky with light

That dazzles briefly, then dies away.

The Light of the World will abide, will stay

Beyond the reaches of the world (just a stage)

“I am with you. Even to the end of the age.”