The Yoke of Love

I don’t exist just for myself I know,
I must cooperate, life’s not a joke,
and in the end I need something to show,
to be successful, who can share my yoke?

God has the goal, the journey and the map,
we need each other for the mission plan,
we pull our share, a pair, we overlap,
in bond responding fondly man-to-man.

God said His burden’s light, His yoke is sweet,
we’re yoked together with a yoke of love,
we share our yoke with everyone we meet,
beyond--a yoke of joy forever above.

But if I try alone to bear it free,
why then, O Lord, You see--the yoke’s on me.

                       by Pete Voelz     8/3/14

Four Mysteries

Who are we men that made our God die so?
Who is this God that loves us through such pain?
What is this love that we can barely know?
What is this sin we did and still maintain?

We men are great, made in Your image here,
You, God, almighty in Your power there,
Your love brings goodness, truth and beauty near,
but since You’re perfect, our sin brings despair.

 Yet sin so bad is still by You forgiven,
and love so great can still be shared by grace,
and we, though broken, still can merit heaven,
and You, though hidden, still display Your face.

Sin fogs my mind from knowing each mystery,
Your love so blinding shows them clear to me.

                              by Pete Voelz     8/15/14

Priority God

There are two gods I must prioritize,
the god of me, then, God, the God of You,
small me, then You Whose name we capitalize,
one is the greater god, more real, more true.

Which do I spend more of my money on?
When others I look at, who do I see?
Who most I think about, who makes me yawn?
My time, my needs, who’s my priority?

Who made the universe, who’s more like God?
To which one do they pray, who answers prayers?
Who sets the norm, and who’s a little odd?
When people get in trouble, Lord, who cares?

When I pretend I’m God, what have I got?
Why do I think I’m You, Lord, when I’m not?

                        by Pete Voelz     8/13/14

Her Assumption

O Mary, what a trip you made that day,
I wish I could have gone along for the ride,
to race through sky and space your heavenward way,
and share a spiritual journey at your side.

Immaculately conceived and full of grace,
Oh, simple, humble maid in Nazareth,
conversant with an angel face-to-face,
you're unlike us in maybe cheating death.

As Theotokos bearer of the Lord,
Oh Virgin Mom who raised a Godly Son,
your heart pierced by a seventh sorrowful sword,
as losing your dead crucified Boy, you won.

It would be great to go along for the ride,
if I could skip the times you almost died.

                    -- by Pete Voelz      2003

Blest Queen

To Our Lady the Blessed Virgin Mary
on the feast of her Assumption, Aug. 15

No relics, Mary? Where’s your grave and shrine?
No incorrupted body? Where’s your tomb?
Mother of God, though you are not divine,
you only bore His Son within your womb.

Perhaps you fell asleep in your dormition,
and did not die and thus not get entombed,
Immaculately Conceived in Church tradition,
we’ve thus assumed your body was assumed.

We honor you this feast of your Assumption,
our faith--your body was drawn up above,
and loving you so much is not presumption,
Christ for His Mother has the greatest love.

The one we greatly honor, not adore,
you are our Queen enthroned forevermore.

                         by Pete Voelz     8/11/14

The Space of Grace

God gives me strength but also lets me be,
sometimes I pray, He showers me with grace,
yet not so much that I’m no longer free,
along with help, He always leaves me space.

God grants support to give my will some spine,
He wants to guide and yet not to control,
He knows the choice, but wants it to be mine,
we both do battle for my fickle soul.

I want what's right, my body drags me back,
it seems to want a life that's all its own,
God's only there to help take up the slack,
He wants the true me, not some godly clone.

God made me real, which means He made me free,
He leaves my fate and choices up to me.

           by Pete Voelz     2/5  (7/11)

'Twixt God and Me

What barrier stands between You, God, and me?
The only obstacle I know is I.
Between us You have cleared a path I see,
an empty space beyond a cloudless sky.

Why have You paved so clear a way to me?
and left it, Lord, so there is only I?
Between us You have made me really free
to come or go, left almost high and dry.

If space is vast 'twixt You, O God, and me,
I know there's nothing in between when I
brush close Your face to mine as spiritually
I close the tiny gap if I just try.

You’ve left it all completely up to me,
a humble glance of prayer on bended knee.

                          -- by Pete Voelz      1/04