The Greatest Game

O God, Yours is the greatest game of all,
where pitcher, umpire, coach and fans are You,
a game we all have played in since the Fall,
where You’re both quarterback and defense too.
Your game’s more serious than any sport,
good as they are, they’re mostly just distraction,
our game’s lifelong, the whole world is our court,
we more than play, so grave we take the action.
For hungry Satan is our adversary,
You’re on our side, it is our game to lose,
our team is strong with angels, saints and Mary,
our victory or defeat we’re free to choose.
Thank God, Lord, You’re our captain and our goal,
our trophy is our own immortal soul.

                             -- by Pete Voelz      1/31/12

God Pick-up

O God, pick up the pieces of my soul,
shattered from sudden impact with my sin,
scattered by loss of care and self-control,
spattered by spots of broken discipline.
O Lord, becalm the grief winds in my heart,
the raging storm of sorrow buffeting me,
temptation's thunder driving us apart,
dark clouds of doubt that roil my spiritual sea.
O Christ, forgive the wrongs that have offended
the God Who took my sins for all His own,
and welcome back with those same arms extended
the one who hung You on a cross for throne.
God Jesus, grant me grace good to repent
my soul's sins so I can be heaven-sent.

                                  -- by Pete Voelz     8/10

Normal God

It's normal that our good God is all good,
and when we die we'll find this natural,
all God's perfection will be understood,
His goodness will not seem some miracle.
That God's there will be normal as can be,
and that He loves us won't seem strange at all,
our loveableness will be no mystery,
that we and God each other will enthrall.
That God is timeless won't seem one bit weird,
the past and future won't exist apart,
we'll see God clear without His old man's beard,
we'll fall in love with Him with all our heart.
O God, since wonders like these will come true,
I trust I can put all my trust in You.

                                   -- by Pete Voelz      9/10

When the Trumpet Flower Sings

At that great hour the trumpet flower will sing
joined by each man and fly and animal,
to Gabriel's tones the shouting stones will ring
for all to hear like some great miracle.
This crossvine flower, like us, needs our support,
its tendrills tossed upon some crisscrossed frame,
so that its call on high can all exhort
and waken some to save them from their shame.
Like golden horns the yellow-orange flowers flare,
while seedpods strain to use sun, rain and clay,
we need to sow and gently grow with care
and not be ruined and so be pruned away.
Like nature's growth, to welcome both the king
and towers of trumpet flowers, we'll jump and sing.

                            -- by Pete Voelz           2003

Sweet Magic Wand

I too can do the miracles of God,
or have at least for some of them a share,
though for my part He often has to prod
to get me to contribute through a prayer.
God's world is spiritual and so is ours,
what matters most takes place there in that space,
He gives us physical and spiritual powers,
we co-create good things here by His grace.
Our spiritual prayer works in His spiritual realm,
His supernatural powers can change things here,
where He prefers we join Him at the helm
to make sweet “magic” miracles appear.
With You in prayer let me, Lord, sweetly bond,
and wave my prayer like some sweet magic wand.

                                       -- by Pete Voelz        6/09

Trust and Pity

I've not much left except for trust and pity,
my faith tells me God's worthy of my trust,
I've messed my life up 'til it's grim and gritty,
there's only hope to reach for, so I must.
Since God is God, I can trust Him completely,
His word is good, His promises come true,
He's real and free and deals with me discreetly,
and sometimes works a miracle or two.
God's mercy flows from infinite compassion,
it makes Him soon forget and so forgive,
I never doubt His mercy out of fashion,
He's sworn to pity me long as I live.
O God, because You keep such faith in me,
though pitiful, I put my trust in Thee.

                            -- by Pete Voelz      5/09

Old New Friends

I dream of meeting friends from long ago,
and catching them with joy and by surprise,
and as we toss our greetings to and fro,
we fondly look into each other's eyes.
Yet You, O God, have planned things much more sweet,
and much more real than just some fantasy,
for millions of old and new friends I'll meet
with greatest joy for all eternity.
My dreams are thin, my fantasies untrue,
how real Your mansions we help build in prayer,
instead of dreams, I should live up to You,
so I'm more worthy, Lord, when we meet there.
O God, by grace my best and oldest friend,
we will with joy meet face-to-face no end.

                                    -- by Pete Voelz      5/09

Love and Freedom

God gave me freedom when He gave me love,

love can’t be forced, to love means to be free;

to love or not to love--my choosing of

is like my choice “to be or not to be.”

God does command I love Him, yet I choose,

I’m free to love Him first and thus obey;

His game of life and love, to win or lose,

I choose to play, and that means choose to pray.

To love me more than God means I am proud,

but humble for obedience and prayer;

free to be proud or humble--I’m allowed,

to worship me or God, which do I dare?

If I love myself truly, this I know:

to love God first means I’ll to heaven go.

                     -- by Pete Voelz      1/24/12

Persistent God

As I persist in sin, I do in prayer
persist again, and so You find me here
again because I know that You are there
to help me fight my sin and persevere.
Again I sin and once again I pray,
the struggle seems to go on without end,
but I persist and turn to You each day,
for such a fight, it’s good with such a Friend.
The reason that You’re there each day for me,
the world, the flesh, the devil too persist;
to help me gain my heavenly destiny,
I daily take Your gift of Eucharist.
To win the fight, O Christ, I do embrace
the Godly strength and power of Your grace.

                         -- by Pete Voelz      1/22/12

Organized Faith

Our organized religion has three parts,

like three legs on a stool, it needs each one,

appealing to our bodies, souls and hearts,

just like our God--the Father, Spirit and Son.

In faith we pray the Father all alone,

we lift our hearts to Him in personal prayer.

In church we let our hidden light be shown,

in hope the Spirit inspires our spirits there.

Our bodies help the poor in charity,

we social creatures Christ to those in need.

With these ways our religious Trinity,

we organize in thought and word and deed.

Religion means relationship--we church

relate to God from our three-legged perch.

                        -- by Pete Voelz     1/22/12

How Free?

My freedom, Lord, does not free me from You,  

You stick to me, of You I am not free,  

You're always near no matter what I do,  

if You were not so near, I would not be.  

You stay so close to me out of Your love,

if You were not, You would be sorely missed,

we need to work together hand in glove,

I lose big time if You I do resist.

I am not free except to turn my back,

or else to stay and stand before Your face,

You have provided me with all I lack,

I'm truly free when I move with Your grace.

Lord, let me not be stubborn and rebel,

I join You if I use my freedom well.

                    -- by Pete Voelz       2/09

What Matters Most

Great literature puts stories in my head;
what matters if I die with one more story?
What matters more what’s in my heart instead,
have I had love enough to win my glory?
Great athletes are the heroes of my son,
who wins the game, who’s best of this year’s season;
what matters will the game of life be won,
not love of sport, but love of God’s the reason.
Great comedy and wit appeal to all,
we’re popular if we create the laughter,
but midst the noise, do I perceive the call?
The laughs will fade, what matters most is after.
Lord, books and play and wit are not the worst,
so long what matters most I tend to first.

                         -- by Pete Voelz         1/19/12

Daring God

If I say, Lord, only two words to You,
my heart begins to fail because I dare
call out to You, Creator of the dew
of grace and love You nestle everywhere.
O God, when I send but a glance Your way,
I cringe for this soul laden with my sin,
it seems I'm only worse off more each day,
how dare I face You with the shape I'm in?
And yet I dare, for You, great God of might,
extend Your powers of grace and love to me,
You made me so we both could pierce the night
and fly to our shared light and destiny.
O God, when You created me You dared,
why can't I dare now even if I'm scared?

                             -- by Pete Voelz     3/10

Ice Plant

What warmth of beauty does the "Ice Plant" form,
with pink blooms bunched in "Brilliant" clustered dorms,
its "Showy Stonecrop" flat-head flower norm
withstanding dry spells and cold frosty storms.
Each "Stardust" shows five petals in a star,
as ten long thin pink pistils rise like spars,
while tiny black dots tip them so bizarre,
as five short pistils squat like white cigars.
 The leaves stay fresh by holding moisture tight,
their pores drink CO2 in cooler nights,
then close to keep it from day's drying light
and save their many "Live-For-Ever" sites.
O fragrant "Autumn Joys" and "Ruby Glows,"
you carpet rocks and swamps with florid snows.

                                   -- by Pete Voelz      2003

Christ Lion

Christ is a lion, but He is more than that,
more than mere animal, more man than mouse,
though sometimes kitten, He is one cool cat,
invite Him in, He'll roar around the house.
He is not just a tiger burning bright,
He died like Aslan and came back to live,
He does not want to go bump in the night,
He shows us love He only wants to give.
Life's jungle sees Him waiting like a beast,
to leap with all His power to be shared,
all goodness, truth and beauty--what a feast!
--for those contrite who bring their souls prepared.
O Christ, instead of making us Your meat,
it is Your Lion body that we eat.

                             -- by Pete Voelz       2/11

(Dedicated to my cool nephew, Eddie.)

Spirit Prompts

As to us all, the Spirit speaks to me
with little inspirations, quiet prompts.
But what if it is Satan running free,
trying to tempt me with His lies and pomps?
If I’m inspired or prompted to do good,
Christ said a house divided cannot stand,
and if I bear good fruit just as I should,
God oft adds little miracles by His hand.
Your inspiration, Spirit, I await,
for You, O Holy One, I’m always ready,
and I accept Your promptings as my fate,
my loyalty to You is strong and steady.
O Spirit God, of Whom I am so fond,
to all Your promptings promptly I’ll respond.

               -- by Pete Voelz       1/10/12

All Winter Light

The beauty of winter is all in the light
that glistens from all of the snow,
a shimmering glare of all glittering white,
a flashing and flickering blaze all aflow,
all the sun-diamond drifts in staccato delight,
as splashing streaks sparkle and shine all below,
all lucent the speckles resplendent in flight,
in a blinding all brilliant tableau,
we behold in the cold His gold all aglow.

But the glimmering snow illumes all in the night,
the all-luminous moon looming bright,
until soon all the ghouls of the gloom start to grow
and come calling all nocturnal shadows to show,
all the tall sleeted trees cast a pall to afright,
barren limp lurid limbs swaying all to and fro,
as somber shade silhouettes all silent and slow,
come to doom with their tombs all in tow,
to consume us and all winter’s beauty with woe.

So do come and turn from all sad memory’s sight,
don’t sucuumb to the shadows from all long ago,
of dark nights and black clouds all the cold winds would blow;
come with me to all winter’s delight,
to the vast visible radiance that makes all all right,
to the riotous spectrum all bright on the snow,
to the luster in winter of the joy we all know,
of the light and the love we all owe,
all the rest we’ll forever forego.

                                   -- by Pete Voelz     1998

(With a bow to Matthew Arnold.)

Rosary in the Rain

I love to say the Rosary when it’s raining,
each drop a Rosary bead of blessed prayer;
the patter of the water’s soft refraining
matching patterns of my Aves in the air.

The droplets pelt the parched plants like a leaven,
to nourish thirsty gardens in the sun;
my prayerlets climb the sunbeams up to heaven
that flourish when the ardent rains are done.

The harvest will be fuller in the morning,
the rainfall fortifying all our food;
and as heaven harvests sinners without warning,
my Hail Marys help to bring beatitude.

If the Creator gave us rainfall for our growing
to replenish all the material life we feel,
how much more He’ll shower graces overflowing
on those who thirst for spiritual rain so real.

So listening to the raindrops as they’re falling,
I let the beads slip by quiet as my prayer,
all confident in the faith that keeps me calling
for His rain of grace to shower everywhere.

-- by Pete Voelz         2003

(Dedicated to a friend who loves her Rosary.)

No Space God

O God, let there between us be no space,
no corner where some demon dare can wedge,
may friction cease between us greased with grace,
and let no room be left for me to hedge.
The main cause of our distance is my sin,
then worldly wants, distractions from outside,
let none of these temptations enter in,
for there are none of them that I can hide.
So many dear attractions on the way
for You, the main event, are sacrificed,
let me be able like St. Paul to say,
"Who can divide me from the love of Christ?"
O God, pull me each day a little nearer,
so I see You I gaze into the mirror.

                         -- by Pete Voelz       9/09

Bond of Grace

God made the water, He can make the grace,
just as the water cleanses, grace does too,
our racetrack clear, our souls clean for the race,
no question watermaker, grace or you.
God’s frosting is an overlay of grace,
when we do good, His grace is there to spare,
God cannot love and leave without a trace,
He adds His grace, our good’s rewarded there.
All evil has an underlay of grace,
God’s grace will win, the evil, lost, will lose,
yet I must be still free to lose the chase,
the grace for good, or none for bad, I choose.
Lord, for my need for grace I plead, “Respond!”
to form with You by grace this gracious bond.

                       -- by Pete Voelz        1/12/12

God Obsessed

How should I love a God obsessed with me,
a God I cannot see or hear or touch,
yet Who, I’m told, loves me infinitely,
and, I confess, I don’t love very much?
St. John writes I do not love God unless
all His laws and commandments I obey,
He doesn’t mine, so why does He obsess
about one who would rather play than pray?
I do love Him some as I see His care
for such a low unworthy Joe as I;
He’s always here, and in my need He’s there,
so shouldn’t I be loving in reply?
And so I promise, Lord, to love You too,
though I doubt I’ll be so obsessed with You.

                         -- by Pete Voelz        1/10/12

Love Is the Option

Love is the option when we have a choice,
love’s might can make friends of our enemies,
love’s grace lends truth a stronger, gentler voice,
love’s nature weaves a happy end with ease.
In theory, love’s what makes the world go round,
though leaders often don’t give love a glance,
yet if they’d look, love everywhere is found,
love’s patience wins when given half a chance.
All powerful love will triumph in the end,
it thus behooves us all sweet love to choose;
since God is love, He’s each true lover’s friend,
and so in choosing love we cannot lose.
Choose love and you choose God, both good and true,
and God will shove His gracious love to you.

                                -- by Pete Voelz      1/9/12

God Gift-Giver

I get my gifts from God and give them back,
He did not lend me them only for pleasure,
nor just to let them sit there in a stack,
God wants me using them for Him full measure.
To give them back means to use them His way,
He didn’t give me them just for my fun,
He wants me to develop them each day,
so He can use them to get His work done.
I live, not for myself, but for God first,
my gifts, not just for me, were made for Him,
yet lent to me to save me from the worst,
without their use, my chances--very slim.
I think I made my gifts, or they just grew,
when really, Lord, I owe them all to You.

                         -- by Pete Voelz     1/9/12

(Inspired by a gifted friend.)

Shadow God

God permeates the universe and me,
each morsel and each molecule of me,
He numbers every hair and mark on me,
each change He makes He shapes to look like me.
God knows me even more than I know me,
I find Him everywhere I look in me,
if I don't heed Him at the heart of me,
I'm blind to Him in every part of me.
With every step I take God shadows me,
He gives me life, He'll be the death of me,
He takes from me and then He adds to me,
awake, asleep, He is the breath of me.
You made me so I can't escape from me,
let me not ever, God, escape from Thee.

                         -- by Pete Voelz        9/07

Between God and Me

What barrier stands between my God and me?
The only obstacle I know is I.
Between us He has cleared a path I see,
an empty space beyond a cloudless sky.
Why has God paved so clear a way to me?
How has He left it so there's only I?
Between us He has made me really free
to come or go, He's left me high and dry.
If space is vast betwixt Himself and me,
I know there's nothing in between when I
touch His face close to mine as spiritually
I close the tiny gap if I just try.
God's left it all completely up to me,
a humble glance of prayer on bended knee.

                       -- by Pete Voelz         1/04

The Past Undone

The things I've done can't be undone, they're gone,
the time I did them in has slipped away,
though often their effects go on and on,
so much of what is past remains today.
If wrongs I've done somehow live after me,
and my good deeds lie mostly with my bones,
they also lie in God's great memory,
for when we pray, He gives us bread, not stones.
So if I pray His mercy and repent,
He will undo the wrongs that I have done,
while He'll enhance the good that I present,
my sins He'll take and send beyond the sun.
O God, I know I cannot change the past,
but You can make it all be good at last.

                                -- by Pete Voelz         5/09

How Ready?

How ready am I for that Judgment Day,
which now is just in my imagination,
and not on my horizon anyway?
Can I be blamed for some procrastination?
God's kind of out of sight, thus out of mind,
am I prepared when I can't put Him first?
To see His face in others I'm so blind,
my sins still pile up, which is the worst.
I owe God everything, yet I ignore
the proper use of all is to prepare,
I should try to restore our poor rapport,
and give my worldly things less time and care.
O Lord, from my short life refocus me
to best prepare my long eternity.

                            -- by Pete Voelz     4/09

Wild God

The lion and the lamb are but a taste
of what for us our Wild God has in store,
His mercy will have all our sins erased,
to live with Him in joy forevermore.
No mountain there for us too steep to climb,
no chasm there for Him too deep to fill,
no wild ride without a wild time,
no wild card except His wild will.
I ask of Wild God, I calmly pray,
a wild life aimed at His wild goal,
so I can fearless face the wild fray,
and end the false fears of my wild soul.
I pray You, Wild God, that You'll increase
my wild love for You while we're at peace.

                  -- by Pete Voelz           2/10

Lost Things

The other day I lost my face,
I could not see it anyplace.

Just like the day I lost my lap
when lying down to take a nap.
I stood up and looked all around,
my little lap could not be found.

But then I thought a little bit,
that I might find it if I'd sit,
and so I sat and that was that,
without a sound, without a map
when I sat down, there was my lap.

Just like the day I lost my fist,
that sometimes hung around my wrist.
I shook my fingers up and down,
I looked and looked all over town.

So I decided I would take
my hand and fingers and just make
the little finger ball I missed
that I would simply call my fist.

And lo, so much to my surprise,
before my very wondering eyes,
was something hanging from my wrist,
and I knew then I'd found my fist.

So then I thought I'd find my face
if I looked in the proper place,
and so, please don't misunderstand,
I'd look for it in mirrorland.

I snuck up to the mirror wall,
there wasn't any face at all.
But when I looked directly in,
I saw the biggest silly grin,
for filling up the mirror space
I finally found my missing face.

Which goes to show if you just take
a minute to make no mistake
to find in that most special place
your lap, your fist, your silly face.

                  -- by Pete Voelz      4/09

Attend to God

If always You’re attentive, God, to me,
then should I not always attend to You?
For I’m Your creature, You’re my destiny,
You, Lord, Your love has always drawn me to.
The child attends the mother and the dad,
You are my mom and dad rolled into One,
You give me good and take away my bad,
and I’ll attend You as the ages run.
To know You, I must bring You far to near,
to find You, I must call to You in prayer,
to hear You, I must listen now and here,
and see with eyes of faith You’re always there.
To be attentive, I must look Your way,
and open up my heart to You today.

                           -- by Pete Voelz     1/2/12

The Lure of the Larkspur

In the garden park are lanky larkspur ladders,
each blossom blue climbs closer to the sky;
their lavish wall of color's all that matters
as lustrous purple petals lure the eye.

For blooms to excel along a sheltered border,
in fall deploy the seeds in soil rich;
though care is mild, growing with wild disorder,
they sprout in drought or rain without a hitch.

Medieval years placed Mary's tears, the larkspur,
in Mary's special gardens fresh for prayer;
no mind the way our summer may grow darker,
the larkspur cheers with Mary's tears of care.

There are your larkspurs shaped like star-girt candles,
with willowy light white centers bright-displayed
amidst the blue blooms--poison to some animals,
deceptive beauty by its brew betrayed.

These candle larkspurs mark an arc through Europe,
from France they prance their green romance to Greece;
their blossoms star-like front with farside spur up
combine to form a flower of warm caprice.

The family's cachet: Ranunculaceous flowers--
The Crowfoot or the Buttercup for the same;
Delphinium--the genus sum for bowers
of Dwarf or Tall, Spring, Garden--all by name.

From two to six feet tall on sticks they tower,
an avalanche of buds on branching sprays,
perrenials and annuals that shower
pink, violet, red and white to spread our gaze.

O larkspur, you're a loftier lure to beauty
than just the length your stalk's spare strength can rise;
her tears may fall, yet Mary's call to duty,
like pointed stem, a diadem to the skies.

The blooms of small but vigorous sprawling larkspurs,
like blossoming souls that climb to goals on high,
burst forth with fire like an angel choir of larks lures
God's graces as they cross the azure sky.

                              -- by Pete Voelz              2002