Tear-Stained Sod

Tear-Stained Sod
Warwick Allen
Saturday, 1 March 2025

[Verse 1]
Oh Lord, You laid the earth in motion,
Spoke the stars to light the sky.
The wind sings endless admiration,
And the mountains testify.
I walked in dust, my heart was broken,
Lost my all beneath Your gaze,
Yet still Your voice, it softly spoken,
Guided me through the shadowed days.

[Chorus]
Great are You, God, in the storm and the flame,
Goodness flows from Your unequalled name.
I lift my eyes from the tear-stained sod,
And sing of the greatness of my God.

[Verse 2]
You let the tempest tear my shelter,
Stripped my hands of fleeting gold,
But in the silence, I felt Your splendour,
A wealth that cannot be stole'.
Your knowledge boundless, wisdom greater,
Beyond what mortal minds can know.
In every trial, I stand and wonder,
At the mercy You still show.

[Chorus]
Great are You, God, in the storm and the flame,
Goodness flows from Your unequalled name.
I lift my eyes from the tear-stained sod,
And sing of the greatness of my God.

[Bridge]
Who am I to question Your purpose?
I'm dust beneath Your boundless flame,
You hold the dawn, the dusk, the cosmos,
And call me gently by my name.
From ashes, Lord, You lift my soul,
Your love remains, it makes me whole.

[Chorus]
Great are You, God, in the storm and the flame,
Goodness flows from Your unequalled name.
I lift my eyes from the tear-stained sod,
And sing of the greatness of my God.

[Outro]
So here I stand, though scarred and humbled,
Before Your throne, my spirit free,
The world may shake, the proud may stumble,
But Your grace is all I see.
Oh Lord of all, of dust and glory,
Forever Yours, my song will be.
Disclaimer

Some lyrics have been generated by AI. The concept, themes and narrative arc are Warwick Allen's; AI just helped with some word smithing.

Simplicity's Virtue

Simplicity's Virtue
Warwick Allen
Tuesday, 3 December 2024

never thought I could
never thought I would
'o no no no n' no no no
it's not what you said
just some old bones
rattling in my head

so I journey
never through the heart
can't you see
that is where
the trouble starts

got out of control
got to take a hold
'o so so so s' so so so
just ashes and dust
trying on my own
thought that I must

so I wander
never through the heart
stop and ponder
that is where
the trouble starts

got to reach you
got to run from you
got to reach you
tearing me in two

simplicity's virtue
such I teach you
'ou you you you y' you you you
it's all I got
but it's a lot

so I travel (got to reach you)
never through the heart (got to run from you)
can't you tell
that is where
the trouble starts (tearing me in two)

Dimly-Lit Path

Dimly-Lit Path
Warwick Allen
Tuesday, 1 February 2022

Eggshells narrowly escape
feet awkwardly crash between
And the load shouldered
precious, fragile, teetering

New terrain, strangely familiar
strange turns
through pit holes and trenches
gradually climbing

A torch for the feet
a necessary comfort
The direction unknown
just press on up

The terrain is rugged
But the load shouldered
precious, fragile, balanced
Is not shouldered alone

Minstrel of Summer

Minstrel of Summer
Warwick Allen
Saturday, 3 March 2018

How wonderful to listen
To that minstrel of summer
What sweeter sound to bask in
Than the song of the cicada?

Never-failing evangelist
Faithful herald of the sun
“Foul weather is banquished”
Announces cicada's hum

Don't go quiet on me
Keep singing little friend
Keep humming in your tree
Don't let the summer end

Ruru's First Call

Ruru's First Call
Warwick Allen
Sunday, 30 July 2017

Ruru wakens
Heart hastens
Is it really
No, can't be
That time again?
Again

Day's been
Done somethin'
Much not done
Racing the sun
The sun won
Again

Race fail
But my battle
—Important one
It is won
When I say “yes”
When I ask
“Did I love?”

Dead Faith, Breathe

Dead Faith, Breathe
Warwick Allen
Wednesday, 7 June 2017

You've no qualm
Recite your psalm
On the corner
Don't ignore her
She's hurting
You look

Words cavernous
Now disastrous
She will hear
You don't care
She's hurting
You ask

Pontificate
Form of hate
You say grace
See her face
She's hurting
You know

… breathe …

Words substantial
Being filled
In the doing
Lives combining
She's waiting
For you

To Be Me

To Be Me
Warwick Allen
Friday, 12 August 2016

white whiskers
whisper
of my folly

muscles strained
well trained
of my weakness

learned brain
exclaims
my ignorance

a beast without Your mind
a babe without Your strength
a fool without Your word

I need You
                if I am
                            to be me