Another day...

‘Tis sad indeed what I do ponder
As I approach the front door yonder.
“However will this day I squander?”
Is the thought that comes to me.

A product of the others wasted,
All gone by with nothing tasted
But the hours and minutes basted
Pursuing vain security.

Each empty day portends a ‘morrow
Doomed to end in bitter sorrow
For the time that I did borrow
With no return provided me.

Days that end in anguished night
In a tunnel with no distant light,
Just regret for adding to the blight
That dims life’s brilliant tapestry.

All labor of my mind and hand
Sold to the world’s delusive plan
That stole this sinful, careless man
From all that he was meant to be.

O world, why do I seek thy favor,
Denying that which I most savor,
Not to taste the sweetest flavor
Of the life God planned for me?

But as I, this day, traverse the door,
My God, my Father, I implore...
Let me not waste just one day more
Walking with my back to Thee.

Recast my life Thy perfect way.
Rule all I think and do and say.
Thy will be done through me each day.
From now until eternity.

Joseph Weilenbeck 1996

Love is not love...

Love is not love
that turns away
when storms and darkness
claim the day...
Or, that covers its eyes
when faced with pain,
or that turns and runs
when comes the rain.

For love does not count
its gain or loss
when its object is found
in the tempest tossed...
Nor build up walls
to behind them hide,
leaving its object
on the other side.

No, love is not love
that sits and waits
when its object is passing
through trouble's gates...
For love must run swift
to its object's side
and, by nothing on earth
let its path be denied.

Joseph Weilenbeck 2018

Time and hope to dream...

Author's Note: This is not "how I think", but it is often "what I feel". It is the bold imprint that clinical depression has embroidered upon the fabric of my life. I can sometimes look past it; but even then, it remains in my field of view. It beckons me to embrace it.

Time and hope to dream...

by Joseph Weilenbeck

Remembering forgotten places
Recalling unfamiliar faces
Grasping at the fading traces
of life's last and least remains
of tears and laughter, joy and pain
of moments not to be again.
Wondering what life can mean
When you've lost all time and hope to dream.

When yesterdays surpass tomorrows
When joys are beaten back by sorrows
And you're out of chances you can borrow
from days too short, and nights too long
with strength too scarce to carry on
until, at last, your soul gives up its song.
When the path ahead is short and mean
And you've lost all time and hope to dream.

Joseph Weilenbeck 2017