" How Deep the Father's Love for Us"

~ How deep the Father's Love for us

How vast beyond all measure

That He should give His only Son

To make a wretch His treasure.

How great the Pain of searing Loss

The Father turns His face away

As wounds which mar the Chosen One

Bring many Souls to Glory.

Behold the man upon a Cross

My sin upon His shoulders

Ashamed, I hear my mocking voice

Call out among the scoffers.

It was my sin that held Him there

Until it was accomplished

His Dying breath has brought me Life

I know that it is Finished.

I will not boast in anything

No gifts, no power, no wisdom

But I will boast in Jesus Christ

His Death and Resurrection.

Why should I gain from His reward?

I can not give an answer

But this I know with all my Heart

His wounds have paid my ransom.

~Yes, this I know with all my Heart...

His wounds have paid my ransom.

~ Steve Townend

U.K.

~ Beannaichte'

20 April, 2022

@beannaichte.twitter.com

Flying Column - Four Green Fields

The Dying Rebel

Willie Nelson & Kimmie Rhodes ~ Till I Gain Control Again

Willie Nelson & Kimmie Rhodes ~It Always Will Be ~

"Irish Blessing"

  

 I

wish  you Not 

a  Path Devoid of  Clouds.

Nor a Life on a bed of Roses.

Not that  you  might Never Need Regret,

Nor that  you  should Never Feel Pain.

No, that  is Not my Wish for you.

My Wish for you is:

That  you  might  be  Brave in Times of Trial,

when others Lay Crosses upon your Shoulders.

When  Mountains  must be Climbed,

and Chasms  must  be Crossed;

When Hope can Scarce Shine through.

That  every Gift God gives you,

might Grow along with you.

And  let you Give the Gift  of Joy

to All who Care for you.

That  you  may Always  have  a Friend

who  is Worthy of the Name.

Whom  you  can Trust,

and who Helps you

in Times  of  Sadness.

Who  will   Defy the Storms 

of  Daily Life, at your Side.

One  more Wish  I  have for you:

That  in  Every  Hour

of  Joy  and  Pain,

you  may Feel God Close 

to  you.

This  is  my Wish  for you,

and  All  who Care  for you.

This  is my Hope  for  you,

Now

and

Forever.

 

~ Unknown

~ Beannaichte'

 

17 March, 2022

@beannaichte.twitter.com 

"War"

I hear the song the blackbirds sing,

The rush of mountain waters, tis Spring;

The corn lifts its ears, without a sound,

Church bells ring all around.

 The doormouse flits in an out,

A little squeak, he cannot shout;

A boy, a flash, and then a scream,

Is this the End, or just a dream.

Darkness fell in mirky cloud,

"It's only midday," said the voice out loud;

On my God, what has gone wrong,

Why is the burn and the hurt so strong.

In the distance, yet another boom,

I glanced around, I saw the gloom;

Mummy! Mummy!, came the child's scream,

Mummy had gone and could not dream.

My heart is pained, but I recall,

The forest, these trees, once so tall;

Burning timbers still remain,

No more Life in wooden veins.

Puffing, Panting, breathing smoke,

I try to breathe, don't want to choke;

How I wish I could scream,

Just to wake, make this a dream.

My Brothers and Sisters, are they near,

Their Future is my greatest fear;

For myself, I am not so sad,

In this World, so big, so bad.

The so-called super powers of late,

They've disagreed and sealed our fate;

Wait! That sound, I heard a scream,

I am awake, it was a dream.

~ Eddie Barber

 

~ Copyrighted Material

U.K. 

~ Beannaichte'

 

26 February, 2022

@beannaichte.twitter.com

"Daughter of the Wind"

~To know the road ahead,

ask someone who is returning.

 

There are no spoken words, this night
 My thoughts are in a tangle

 Another night of stirring the ashes

  A  new flame, yet to arise

 I begin to recognise a new-found clarity
One that I choose to befriend-

a daughter of the wind.

Life presses down 

Its complexity overwhelms me, I must go to the Quiet 
A place that is intrinsic to my knowing

I find the primitive, yet familiar language
 Passed on to me, from the olde ones
Laying hold of me, with a firm grasp- 
a daughter of the wind.

I continue to contemplate the ashes

I stir them with absolute and trusted force

Knowing a flame will burst forth;

Brilliant in its Hope and Direction
 The Way  requires a concentrated focus

I clear the stones, strewn onto the Path- 
a daughter of the wind.

At times, I stumble and grow weary
The roots of the past exercise unyielding power
Their grip is tenacious; I continue onward
In movement, I find a rhythm that frees me
From the confines of the past
It is as it ought to be-
a daughter of the wind.


Then I see You, walking on the road
Your smile is welcoming, your eyes incredibly wise
You are the One, returning
I want to know how you made the Journey
What are the Lessons you carry closest to your Heart?
A Voice echoes; down through the corridors of the ages-
a daughter of the wind.


I sense you know the Way
You have made the Journey,  returning stronger
Life requires that we face our fears; the unknowing 
The Torch is passed on: one generation to the next
Your steps were not without pain;  the exacted price of  Glory-
I meet my Mother; a daughter of the wind. 

~ The Flame casts a brilliance... older than Time.     

~ Alicia O'Hara
~ Copyrighted Material; 13 December, 2013

~ Beannaichte'
9 February, 2022

@beannaichte.twitter.com.

"The Rhythm of Time"

There is an inner thing in every man,

Do you know this thing my friend?

It has withstood the blows of a million years,

And will do so to the end.

It was born when time did not exist,

And it grew up out of Life;

It cut down evil's strangling vines,

Like a slashing, searing knife.

It lit fires when fires were not,
And burnt the mind of men;
Tempering leadened Hearts to steel,
From the Time that Time began.


It wept by the waters of Babylon,
And when all men were a loss;
It screeched in writhing agony,
And  hung bleeding from the Cross.

It died in Rome by lion and sword;
And in defiant cruel array;
When the deathly word was "Spartacus",
Along the Apian Way.

It marched with Wat the Tyler's poor,
And frightened lord and king;
And it was emblazoned in their deathly stare,
As e'er a living thing.

It smiled in Holy innocence,
Before conquistadors of olde;
So meek and tame and unaware,
Of the deathly power of gold.

It burst forth through pitiful Paris streets,
And stormed the olde Bastile;
And marched upon the serpent's head,
And crushed it 'neath its heel. 

It died in blood on Buffalo Plains,
And starved by moons of rain;
Its Heart was buried at Wounded Knee,
But it will come to rise again.

It screamed aloud by Kerry lakes,
As it  knelt upon the ground;
And it died in great defiance,
As they coldly shot it down.

It is found in every Light of Hope,
It knows no bounds nor space;
It has risen in Red and Black and White,
It is there in every Race.

It lies in the Hearts of Heroes dead,
It screams in tyrant's eyes;
It has reached the peaks of mountains high,
It comes searing 'cross the skies.

It  Lights the Dark of this prison cell,
It thunders forth its might;
It is "The Undauntable Thought", my friend,
That thought that says, "I'm right."

~ Bobby Sands
Ireland

~ Beannaichte'
26 January, 2022

@beannichhte.twitter.com