For Jan, My Gentle Pastor, Legacy of Hudson, my Grand Nephew, my unknown friend.

Because of listening, he brought me

Realizations that I’d found my God

My Jesus, my Holy Spirit, some 30 years

Ago plus a few months. This at Christmas

Tide, December 10, 2017, realizations

In Grace divine, Oh my Jesus keeper

Of lambs, you found me as seven

Year-old-boy at Baptist altar call,

At baptism through the different John

This man unfit, he says, to lose your shoes,

Oh, Jesus, this is me, I humbly ask

Please resurrect this seven-year-old boy

And you have done so, as I was of my choice

Given over to your Glory; oh, Jan my pastor

You prayed with me, U of Iowa gave you a gift of beautiful

Waterfalls, this water gave me passage at seven

To thy glory, for I was at the age of comprehension

You, oh Reverand Kleever you brought me

Under Jesus love, which as for this young,

Young Creature found Jesus, yet I strayed

I was that lost Lamb until I put down that first drink

July 22, 1987–thus, began my journey

To Thy throne of God, giving testimony at those

Who would put down the drink, my essence, my God

Yet I was stained, I stole money from my family,

Pocketed with cameras, now with my one own

A charge card must pay back every nickel, this

My amends to family and myself, this last

Purchase of photo editing program, which

I am finally ready for, oh God to forgive me, once

Again books, and this electronic reader device

To read the books, Miss Anderson, for in kindergarten

I was with high IQ as my father, his IQ was high

With applied mathematics, me with music

Of the word, oh Jan Gross,  you opened sacred

Books in this my color reader, last Kindle Fire

Of glory, the Bible of my ancestors brought

To life, as Reinhold Neighbor preached

High sermons, the allegory of Dante, the

King James eternal poetry Elizabethan,

Finally John Milton, and St. Agustin in his

His fullness, and connections with the world at $60,

This last reader, as with my simple $60

Black and white, stolen at this Active Generations

Surprised at just a few intellectual books, me, and frozen

For any future user, this by Amazon commands, I am

Free, found one of equal value, much, much more

Tablets of the Lord, full glory in free books,

Bibles, amplification, on December 10, 2017,

This responsibility once again in inventory, built

On God’s own responsibility to pay in full value

In final camera, final reader, final editing tools

For this, my other Art form to Glory of my God

Pictures of His Natural World so these I vow to Jan

Will be my final purchases to repay with this first

Payment of $165, then on to $170, I will glorify

God, give over to knowledge full like Adam

By the sweat of my brow, and this my songs like King David

But see, I’m true to my wife, to my dearest, I have given

Fine tablet at higher prices, she has benefited from color

For her eyes are not sharp, and neither are my two

Orbs of the bluest like her’s we stand as equals yet

Today, me with my God in Glory Land, I have

Finally come home, ner to rest until death we do part

Unlike David or Adam, Adam’s son to murder, David

To commit adultery and murder, I am a thief to recompense

Now to make full amends, full Glory in song and sight,

My readers my sacrifice, my baggage, my weight

To honor God, and legs repaired with titanium,

I will never see again fullness with my own eyes,

Never walk fully in age, I give to God, I make my butterflies,

My water, earth, and air, we will repay in beauty as with

Dollars, my allowance, printing poems, and legacy,

For my daughter, she will continue without my fear,

She finally may, yes, will find partnership, as did mother,

Father our gift to her, but my millstone also tumors, my

Genetic makeup, no grandchild will she have for us, she

Will remain barren because we must look to grandnephew

To be our hope in high IQ, and our hope for my father,

The gift to nephew, brother, this amends, this money

From great granddad, his purse opened for the child, his

Money a gift from me as well, as I am a go-between for my

Father, to glorify, this child will find gratitude, as completeness

In education, our all, our gif to God, perhaps Milton, perhaps

Leibnitz calculus, or in words, unlike blind Milton

Never to exploit daughters, never to trample on great grandpa’s

Name, he will find Jesus, he will complete the deeds of my father

Grandpa’s sons, and his grandsons, and money will be no problem

This I predict, in Legacy, not to waste, Grandpa’s gift, he will

Find occupation to glorify his God, and he will know Jesus,

Hudson Douglas Taylor, to carry on our family name

Creating beauty as his possibility, his gifts to use, like

His grandfather in sound, his great uncle in the word, his

Father in hard work, but to complete as his mother

Schooling, effort to Glorify God, Holy Spirit, to find Christ

To find honesty, his mother will teach him, as did, Chuck

And Doug’s mother, Dorothy gift of God, Leonard finally

His rightful name a Taylor, swift the fullest hand’s, eyes,

Mind in Education because of his mother, he will succeed.

 

 

Published by elgwyn

I was a University and college writing teacher, now retired, so I write poetry, and essays, mostly free verse poetry. I love writing. Computers, tablets, and smart phones are the norm. When one sees university campuses with students looking at phones while walking to class, one realizes writing can be blogging. I am an ordinary man writing for artistic pleasure writing, and simple taste-- blogs are an answer to high priced self-publishing. Walt Whitman had to print his paper books himself, because in 1855, and 1860 poetry did not sell. It does not sell now unless you have a Pulitzer Prize and even then the poet usually makes a living in other ways than writing. In all ages there have been writers writing out of their own needs, and blogs are an answer to get rid of high cost of self creativity. I am an older man with fewer computer skills than my daughter who has been at computers since she was three, so here I can satisfy my need to write without spending too much on self-published books. All three blogs let me reach an audience missed by books and stand a better chance to reach a wider audience. My two books, Winter from Spring, Meditations on Gratitude, as Kindle books and paperbacks did not reach as many people as I wanted, and blogs can let me avoid the printer. Layout and design is expensive. For me writing is more like the charcoal jottings of preexisting civilization made only for posterity. Blogs face two problems as I see it. They might be submerged into a chaos of too much writing, and they depend on electronic storage. Yet, how's that different from electronic books which must have specialized publication? Paper disintegrates, blogs can be physically stored and organized for posterity in data banks. All organization becomes chaos at some point, but charcoal images on cave walls still exist after the author scribbled eons ago. So what if I reach only a few interested people, but hopefully, readers will reach out to me. Writing is essential for showing the ways of culture before history knows those ways. To record each individual is essential especial for billions of people who need to know enough reading beyond pictures to save a planet. Writing without profit isn't new to me. I'm not seeking to impress the audience. Poetry in general never sells, and personal confessional, and emotional writing exists sometimes like journal writings only for the author. At least here is my hope for wider audiences. My writing is personal and informal, but my writing expresses some serious ideas like the writing of contemporary writers to rise above chaos in my own simple way, above self-absorption, a meditation, the simple writing of an ordinary man. I hope to find my own way out of my own chaos and make my record stand alone if even in electrons. Though I hope never to express nightmare in my poetry, fiction, or essays, some serious considerations are important to me after centuries of mechanized nightmare. The next decade is probably of the same failure in our world. This decade looks to be another time of diminished individuals and the next as well. We all wish peace and hope will become normal. It looks like if hope reaches each individual, not governments there is satisfaction in making means of writing available to many. My hope is for each human being to give their own expression out of the abyss. If humankind is to survive in any common way, we must each be able to express maturity and take responsibility in something beyond self. Electronic media offers people these possibilities so long as computers can store individual lives. Here people can freely see what I write and what others write. Though I hold an MFA in creative writing my simple vision never found a wide audience. I was disappointed about this earlier in my life, but now it's just what one expects of such degrees. I found happiness in family and especially in love of my wife and daughter. Writing can be more than a pastime now that I'm older. I approach seven decades living with some disappointing times, and some satisfying times. I'm like most people, and I've been married more than 37 years, and we sent a successful daughter into the world. We happily live in a country where even the poorest have food. Often as a young man when I traveled for nearly one year through Europe, where does a culture begin to feed and house so many people, and how do all these people live in harmony since World War II? Maybe it's been a question of survival. Writers can hold a little corner with blogging, blogging for harmony and peace. This is my hope. This is my question.

One thought on “For Jan, My Gentle Pastor, Legacy of Hudson, my Grand Nephew, my unknown friend.

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