This is the Sound

This is The Sound

This is the sound,

Can we hear it?

This is the sound

Sons and daughters are returning

From the wars our fathers started,

But do they do so without learning

Of why these wars were started?

As lifetime fades into the next

We beg to embrace the peace?

We beg earnestly and pleading

But somehow our pains will never cease

This is the sound

Can you hear it?

Listen carefully now.

Our hearts are quick to judge

Our minds are slow to learn

Yet our voices shout vociferously

Words that cannot ever return.

What use is there in mankind

These lessons we never learn

The flames of our destruction raise

As our fires never cease to burn

This sound,

Oh the sound

Why cannot we hear the sound!

Be still these troubled hearts of ours

These fleeting triumphs lost.

This sound we strain to hear

Has been engulfed by all our fears

The shout of the victorious

The harking herald of peace

But t’is the sound that is for peace

Somehow its timber’s decreased

Oh the sound

The precious sound

We long to hear your voice

As destructions rage across this land

From natural calamities and of man

To the tear streaked face of mothers

As their child’s blood soaks into the sand

Our hearts cry out in unison,

“Where is this peace that was promised!”

But all is lost upon realization

That man and his sins still persist.

Its so faint now

I can hardly hear it

The sound is but a whisper

Please, God is there something left?

Can salvation still be done?

Can we unlearn this pattern of brokenness

And strive to obey the Son?

As blood streaked from the cross

The message of peace still resounds

A message of peace from His words

“Forgive them,” yes, that was the sound!

Forever we were in rebellion

Forever we toiled in vain

But when I turned to hear His voice,

Finally, I heard the sound.

It was the sound of forgiveness

It was he sound of His peace

“Draw to Him all who are thirsty or weak,”

This is the sound.

Greg Butz

November 8th, 2009

I Am Leaving (Part Two)

I am Leaving (part two)

Rise up in me oh Lord,

This feeling of the fire

An untamable passion

Burning for Your hearts desire

That I might become

An endless blazing inferno
That no obstacle or force

Can stop me where You go

That I might see Your word

That I might life my life

That I could boldly serve

A life no one should deserve

And of the suffering I’ll face

And the torments ever before me

To life my life with Your grace

For all the world to see

Rest upon my shoulders

Oh the Holiest of spirits

To control my life fully

Though not I will gain the merit.

And rise up others also

For when I am here to leave

For we all need the burden

That this dark world would believe

And if my time is shorter than

The hour I first believed

Than show me the glorious road

And the mansions you foretold!

And Your face, oh Lord, Your face

Which no eye has ever seen

Shine upon my heart your Light,

So Your face, they’ll see on me.

My blessings I have counted

And though the loss is great to bear,

But the fact joy is in serving You

This world, could never compare.

I am leaving,

One day I’m leaving,

And my heart has already left

for the joys of this world are gone

And You are all that I’ve got left.

I said I’m leaving

Though my work has just begun

My body will be called up

Only when He tells me

“Good and faithful servant,

Your work here on earth is done.”

Greg Butz

Well this is my second installment of the "I am Leaving Series". The first being the "Until the Journey Ends" which you could find in a previous month. Anyway, I've been hitting my devotions really hard over the past few weeks, and I'm learning a tremendous amount of things in my life. I've become quite radical in my outlook... so things are definitely changing for me! Enjoy this poem, I mean every word of it!

Father in Heaven

Father in Heaven

Father in heaven

How have you been?

My world is collapsing

And my head’s caving in.

Seems I’ve been forgetting,

These devotions of mine—

And I have forgotten,

To give you all my time.

This is not the way,

That I want it be.

If you could remove the fog

To help me clearly see.

Cleanse me my life

And give me a clean heart

I need forgiveness,

And a fresh new start.

Father of mine,

How have you been?

Do you turn your face from me?

When I’m deep in sin?

I want you to know,

That I need you right now.

And when I stumble and fall,

Will you help me up somehow?

Father in heaven,

How have you been?

I know you can hear.

And know your right here.

Father in heaven,

Father of mine.

--Greg Butz

Date Unknown, early 2009

I wrote this one afternoon after taking a pounding, I believe I had a headache,juggling too many duties and responsibilities. Many things were on my mind, and I just wanted to talk to my "Father in Heaven." As I was typing these thoughts, it just flowed out like a poem. I realized I hadn't posted a poem in a while, and I just wanted to let you in on one of my prayers to my heavenly Father.

These Are the Days

These Are The Days

These are the days when the shadows grow long

With the sun yearning to break free--

But failing in its arduous struggle with night

It succumbs to the coolness of Autumns breeze

And these are the days when the corn grows tall

With their shoots arching high into the air

And as the crows circle looking for a place to land

The stalks ripple in the wind without a care.

These are the times of vibrant colors

With the changing leaves on display,

Heroically giving their final breath as if to exude

Swiftly approaches the hour requiring greater fortitude

With the careless whims of summer gone

And with solemnness of winter approaching

These were the fleeting moments I cherished

And the memories I longed to hold onto

With the rich harvest moon slowly rising high

And the vividness of a full orange moon

These were the times I must remember

For they were leaving me far too soon.

Alas, these were the nights of cool brisk air

That left whisky trails on my breath

As my lungs bristled to breathe the cold air in

I rejoiced for it was Autumn once again.

-- Greg Butz

September 01, 2009

You've Been a Good Friend of Mine

Now it's unusual for me to explain the post before you can read it. When I hear music, I put my own words to it. Those who have attended camp with me have seen my talent at work (ie. campfire songs with Pete and Greg). Anyway, I was playing Farmville for the upteenth zillionth time, and I decided to put words to their music. This is designed to follow the music cycling 2x through. I hope you enjoy it, and I hope you don't think I'm too big of a nerd. Well, perhaps I am.

You’ve Been A Good Friend of Mine: (a.k.a. the Farmville Song)

Can’t you see what you do

Working all the time

But working is fine

You’ve been a good friend of mine

And I’m working on a good time

There are no troubles in my way

Or any gray clouds lingering today

With the sun on my back

Let it shine

I’m working on a good time

Good day sir, how are you?

"I’m fine" you say of course

There’s work to be done

It’ll be fun

So lets work together on a good time

So grab a shovel or

You could take a pitchfork

You know you’ll have fun

Lets get it done

And find ourselves a real good time.

By Greg Butz

Inspired by "Farmville"

Reality Beckons the Passing of Time

Reality Beckons the Passing of Time

I stepped out into the cool crisp air of September

‘Bout the time when the leaves began to fall,

Swept from their branches by the voice in the air saying,

“Remember. Remember, my child, remember.”

Startled, I didn’t expect anything to stir around me.

But, gently and sweetly the wind sang to me.

It knew me, a quivering voice speaking my name,

Singing a soothing and familiar melody.

Straining against the noise I try to hear

The things I’ve forgotten o’er the years--

But this pause was fruitless as I couldn’t recall,

The things I was supposed to remember at all.

And the branches rustled in a grumpily fashion,

Emphasizing the message with resounding passion.

Though this tune sounded so familiar in my head--

I could only hear the leaves against the wind instead.

“Tell me the things that I have lost!”

I screamed so desperately into the air,

“Important lessons forgotten by my mind--

Perhaps the memories of a pleasanter time!”

But as the wind rose up, it let out a sigh

For it and I both knew, it had been too much time

As I had forgotten these moments couldn’t last

Carelessly, I had misplaced the memories of my past.

As I stared across the horizon I could only surmise:

That reality beckons the passing of time,

This longing feeling, If only i could go back

These precious moments would return to be mine.

By Greg Butz,

Inspired by Melissa So

July 13th, 2009

This poem was inspired by a poem title from Melissa So (former student and friend). I couldn't get it out of my head, and I just had to put it in a full poem format. So I asked her for permission to use it, and she of course said yes. Her quote was the most powerful and poignant portion of the poem, the last stanza. With the exception of three additional words, the last stanza is hers in the entirety. I love using elements of nature and crafting them into human experiences, personification at its finest. I hope you enjoy this poem. And thank you so much Melissa for allowing me to use and adapt your work. =D

Burn the Bridges

Burn the Bridges

Grab the torches,

Light the fires.

It looks like the town’s

In need of a few flames.

The matches were wet,

We doused them before--

Trying to prevent terror

Before it started once more.

But we didn’t listen

Its not like we had before,

Failure to heed our past

Ensures our peace wont last.

Light the fires!

Light the fires!

But the laughter

Turned into cries!

Fill the buckets,

Fight the fires!

Can we prevent

Going down in flames?

But the fire rages,

It’s out of control--

As it’s raged before

And its taking a toll.

To the bridges,

Save the bridges!

But smoldering shapes

Are blocking our escape.

We fought for hours

Losing control.

But the pain is ours

Knowing what we’ve lost.

A chance of fate,

As miracles collide?

The rains begin to pour

And the flames subside.

No longer the need to rush

In putting out fires,

With a collective sigh of relief

The crowds began to hush.

It’s time to rejoice,

Some one laughs,

As they begin to cheer

They know now, that the end was near.

But they weren’t done...

Though the flames abridged

They still had not yet

Burned all the bridges.

Burn the bridges!

Burn the bridges!

After all they’ve seen

They burned them the same.

And as the fire engulfed

They were stoking the flames

It wasn’t necessary to burn the bridges

But they did it anyway.

By Greg Butz

August, 2009

This isn’t a poem about a fire, but how we lose ourselves in arguments and disputes. The imagery I'm trying to convey, that our arguments are just like fires and they rage out of control. And just like the old adage states, "don't burn your bridges", we have to remember that what we say or do has an effect on others, and we have to stop ourselves from taking things too far. I wrote this after a heated argument with my mother and my sister (over a ridiculous thing i.e. Texas Hold Em Poker). We don’t really need to go as far as we do -- nor is it really necessary to say all the things that we say. It feels so good in the moment, but after the fires die out, we realize how much we have really lost. And then pride gets in the way, preventing us from backing down or apologizing. Sad lessons, learnt the hard way.