11 Nov 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Poetry, 0 Comments

Poem 080 Thou art my Lord

Thou art my Lord ……. save me from those who pursue me
incline these eyes to see … keep me … looking toward … you …  and deliver me

Thou art my Lord ……. in thy righteousness please hear me … incline thy ears to me
keep me … walking toward … you … and deliver me

Thou art my Lord ……. in thy names sake will thou lead me … incline thy ways to me
keep me … searching toward … you …  and deliver me

Thou art my Lord ……. I shall find refuge when I seek thee … incline thy hand to me
keep me … reaching toward … you … and deliver me

Thou art my Lord ….. send me out thy light, and thy truth …  incline my eyes to see
always … keep me … looking toward … you … and deliver me.

Keep me where the light is.

12 Nov 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Travelogue, 0 Comments

11/12 Masada, Jordan

I convinced Jenni to take another day trip, this time to visit Masada.  At the bus depot it was like joining a herd of sheep.  If there was a terrorist attack it would not be good.  Jenni kept reminding me of that.  Alongside the Dead Sea and after passing a few scattered Bedouin camps I found myself wondering how far it was to the next tree.  Masada was a magnificent plateau in the middle of nowhere.  It’s hard to understand why anybody would be motivated to conquer its walls unless motivated by pride.   (more…)

12 Nov 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Poetry, 0 Comments

Poem 081 I don’t believe in death

I don’t believe in death as an ending but rather a new beginning,
this time where we are now separated, we begin to reminisce and value the time we had spent together,
enriching our reunion

13 Nov 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Travelogue, 0 Comments

11/13 Jerusalem, Israel

Alongside the darkness we walked the city streets.  It was a different feel since the majority of the shops were boarded up for the night.  It gave the streets a maze like feel.  We came upon a community of water pipes where I sat across from an elderly blind man and a few of his companions.  We shared a pot of spearmint tea and a conversation.  I had a picture taken but it was very dark and without a flash I wasn’t sure if it would come out.  (more…)

13 Nov 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Poetry, 0 Comments

Poem 082 Trails through this world are countless

Trails through this world are countless, many have yet to be tried
shadows dance and leap out into the night, leading me on, to where the roads divide

Though my pockets have worn empty and I carry no intent
you can still find me lodged in-between, as if these things were meant, to be, while the wood is green

(more…)