Lyre
by Eris Cardin, age 17
I pluck the notes to raise a song.
Awake, my lyre! We will wake the dawn.
The music stirs an answ’ring chord:
Oh, soul, awake! We will praise the Lord.
The gold strings quiver with a sound;
Like sweetened thunder it rebounds.
To heaven then the rhythms flow—
Awake, my love, and in this grow.
My faltering hand caressed the strings,
My murmured voice the low note sings;
My fingers still upon the chord,
But my heart echoes, “Bless the Lord!”
The Quiet Place
by Eris Cardin, age 17
In my closet room—the outer sounds are very loud tonight,
Battering against the door, requesting for my ear;
From the outer world of chaos I recently took flight,
And I do not wish to grant it entrance to me here.
In the rosy glow of peacefulness, I settle on the floor,
Pull my knees up to my chest and clasp my trembling hands,
Firmly settling with my back against the sturdy closet door,
Paying no attention to the chaos sound’s demands.
In the quiet place of prayer the tumult slowly fades away,
And I am left abandoned by my worries and my fears;
In the quiet place—away from all the cares of night and day,
Where my shame contains no meaning, where I cry no tears.
In the quiet place, I sense His presence as a joyful light,
And I see the glory of His beauty and His peace.
And I know without my King my joy would fade to deepest night,
But in His embrace is every freedom, full release.
In His presence now I kneel and bow myself unto the floor,
I rejoice in worship, and I yearn to kiss His feet,
And prostrated as I am, He lifts my spirit up to soar:
In my King, my heart is strong, my thoughts are pure and sweet.
In communion indescribable His Spirit meets my spirit,
And so in my worship unmolested I rejoice.
Pouring out my heart, I yield myself to Him, and then I hear it,
Gentle as the softest breeze, as quiet as the room: His voice.
Sweeter far than any singing that has fallen on my ear,
Fairer far and gentler than any human voice,
Deep within my spirit’s hungering depths His words of love I hear,
Stirring up my heart to thrill and worship and rejoice.
Words of deepest mercy, words of peace, and words of matchless grace:
Soft and sweet, my soul is soothed, my heart consoled,
And I have the strength to rise and leave my precious, quiet place,
Face the outer world with my Lord’s stillness in my soul.
Weight of Glory
by Eris Cardin, age 17
Pain and peace together,
Tears and hope combined.
How could I despair
Knowing what is mine?
Glory is forever;
Pain and tears will cease.
Finite days of care,
Everlasting peace.
About the Poet
Eris Cardin is a young poet and writer who is ardently passionate about writing and particularly poetry. Her poems have been previously published in Faith on Every Corner. She also has an email list where she shares regular writing updates, short stories, and poetry. You can sign up at https://sendfox.com/shardsofrhythmanddreams.
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Image: author Frances Clare, no illustrator listed, publisher Skeffington & Son, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.
