Dale Lloyd

This morning my world is shiny white,Transformed in the silence of the night.Its coming made not the slightest sound,Yet like the manna, it covered the ground.What darkness kept from human sightThe morning, dressed in gentle light,Yes, the morning light, in quiet grace,Unveiled the night’s unseen embrace. Read…

I hear the striking of the clock;it tells me day is done.This day gives way to what comes next—a New Year has begun. Resolutions I do not make.In youth, I made them all,most only served to mock mein my very human fall.I learned I could not live up towhat once was in my head—when I… Read…

There is a dipper in the sky,unseen by light of day;one night the vessel tipped a bit—out spilled the Milky Way. There’s Orion, the gentle hunter,who will not harm Great Bear.I sometimes wonder where he rests—perhaps in Cassiopeia’s chair. There’s Hercules, the mighty one,and Perseus, the brave;Andromeda shines softly still,a bright and winsome maid. I… Read…

Patiently we waited; now the time is here.We gently step into another year.Some will meet it with a cheer,others with a tear. Not knowing what this New Year holds,we hope, as always, for the best—for peace on earth, for harmony,for lives at last made still and rest. And yet, reality tells another story—a world of… Read…

Oh, the religion of my youth—forever and ever demanding proof.The ancient serpent’s whisper lives,still speaking, smooth and sly:“In the day that you do this,you’ll earn your rightful place.You can make yourself like God—yes, even take His place.” External conformity to law,without the hint of grace.Self-made coverings for my shame—fig leaves stitched by my own hands.My… Read…

Everyone has a message—a story meant to be read,expressed in the living,not hidden in the head. Every action forms a word,a sentence taking shape;even the pauses, even the cracks,leave room for more than we can say. Mystery, humour, anger, hopeare written as we move;nothing wasted, nothing lost,not even what we meant to prove. It’s not… Read…

It matters not the structures—the systems we had trusted, long made known.How quickly—oh, so quickly—are they shaken, overthrown. Time-proven safeguards, measured lines,that served us faithfully and well—how can they all be cast aside,as if flung headlong into hell? How have the mighty fallenwhile believing they stood tall?History keeps teaching us:the harvest answers every call. Through… Read…

In the first few days of this new yearI stand between both faith and fear.The structures we once trusted in—assured they’d always be—are battered by the gathering storm,shaken violently. Governments, economies, social orders, law—all deemed expendablein fear’s constricting claw. I stare into this present yearwith no clear map in hand.I move ahead step by step,not… Read…

Why should I pray? I ask again—what difference does it make?My words rise into silenceas the ground beneath me shakes. This complaint is not my own;the record bears it true.I hear it in the voicesof all who once drew near to You. Anger braided into longing,hope entangled with despair—these are the words Your people usedthen… Read…

How have the mighty fallen? The question opens something wide—not triumph, but a trembling door,where sorrow and reflection hide. We fill our hands with stones to throw;religion taught us how to go.No compromise in our response—without mercy we must judge the wrongtill memory of the fallen is swept away and gone. We raise our voices—mostly… Read…

Father, be exaltedhere within this place.Deep within our spirit,let us behold Your face. Father, be exalted—to You our hands we raise.Come, O blessed Father,inhabit now our praise. Father, be exalted,be high and lifted up.Pour out Your grace upon us;fill our empty cup. Be exalted, be exalted,Name above all names.Be exalted, be exalted,Forever You shall reign. Read…

I know what it is to walk alone,my heart grown cold, like winter stone.Hope deferred too many times—dreams ground fine to choking dust.I watched my passions lose their heat,bright iron redden, flake, and rust. The fire that once outpaced my fearis now a wick that smokes and sighs.Old longings—once a lifting wind—lie snapped like twigs… Read…

In an ancient story we are toldof a donkey—unlikely, stubborn, old.The beast was briefly given voiceto halt a prophet’s reckless choice. I try to picture that strange sceneand wonder what it must have beento hear rebuke—unmistakable—from one whose role seemed laughable. This beast of burden, shaped by rod,what qualified him to be used by God?No… Read…

Listen to the nations roar,their rulers shout and strain—the air is thick with threat and boast,with drums of fear and gain. Above the reach of clashing cries,beyond the frantic din,there rests a rule in perfect peace,unmoved by what has been. A King above all other kings,a Lord whom none unseat—He does not shout to prove… Read…

Someone is calling—I hear His voice.He who is calling has made His choice.“I chose you; you did not choose Me”—a wondrous truth that sets me free. Free from religion’s relentless demands,from faith reduced to the works of my hands.“Yes, I prayed more than all the rest;and by such works I’m heaven-blessed.” Yet not I—but the… Read…

I wake with empty hands again,no surplus stored away,no certainty beyond this breath,no map to guide me through the day. Yet here I am—still met by light,still held within Your care,still finding mercy waiting for melike dew upon the air. Not yesterday’s supply sustainsthe hunger of this hour.What fed my soul the day beforehas lost… Read…

Each night the manna floated downgathering like snow upon the ground—quiet provision from above,proof enough of faithful love. New mercy with the morning sun,enough until the day was done.No need to store, no barns to build,no bread to hide when the night is stilled. And when they tried to hoard it,to hold tomorrow by their… Read…

His world lay in a dreadful state,his homeland lost in ruins.No pipers, no musicians—silenced now all joyful tunes. No bride or bridegroom in her streets,the children’s laughter now gone mute.No candle burning through the night,no single light left to salute. The city once so gloriousnow smolders in decay.No one dares to enter herwhere once the… Read…

Nebuchadnezzar took a royal stroll,declaring he was in control.He gazed upon his empire grandand claimed it rose by his own hand. “Great Babylon—I made you great.I open wide, I seal your gate.”And while his words hung in the air,Another heard him—standing there. In less than a moment—what could he claim?He didn’t even know his name.Struck… Read…

Sunday morning comes again.The gathered body lifts Your name—a quiet harmony of hearts made one.Not bound by title, form, or claim,no fight for norms, no anxious proofs to see—just Spirit-breathed, blessed unity. No borrowed fire, no forced refrain,no need to manufacture the flame.We stand in what we did not make,receiving more than we could take.… Read…

I lift my eyes and see a worldthat makes me feel unsteady.Yet my heart is strengthenedwhen I recall—I am getting ready. Like Joseph of old, who dared to dream,then suffered in the grip of hell.How could he withstand the storm,the violent tempest swell?He was not exempt—he passed through it all,and every step was steady.Somewhere deep… Read…

From the far edge of the wildernessshe lifts her voice and cries—by day she calls, by night she weepsbeneath unlistening skies. She stands as one appointed,a watchful voice at dawn,calling travelers to turn againbefore the light is gone. But she is brushed aside, ignoredby the proud and self-assured.“We have no need of yesterday,” they say,“its… Read…

Come with Me—enter nowa place of quiet rest.Lay down the works you labored in,even those in which you did your best. Leave with God unfinished efforts,every loss you could not win.He is your strength, and He will completewhat His call began within. Come aside and rest awhile;do not be impatient now.The Prince of Peace draws… Read…

With age, I spend much time reflectingon the journey run—all the years now over, forever gone and done. In memory there is a messagealways coming through.It never changes—always true. It’s written in the poetryand in the songs we sing:Someone has led us all the way,and all the glory goes to Him. He has never left… Read…

Faithful, covenant-keeping God,Your promise You can never break—not because we bind You by our works,but for Your own name’s sake. Religion makes it all about us:we obligate You by being good.We’re the reason we are blessed,for in righteousness we’ve always stood. We laboured long and earned our place,the right to one day see Your face.We… Read…

From the cross He cried, “It is finished”—the final sacrifice for sin.With that, the veil was torn wide open,and all were invited in. The Lamb of God was slain to takeaway our shame and sin;we enter now not by our works,but by faith alone in Him. This is the place we lay it down,where perfect… Read…

The greater glory is yet to come—or so it has been said.No, it hasn’t passed us by;it is still ahead. The best wine, so we’re told,has not yet been tasted.It comes later in the service,and will not be wasted. But when you’ve waited—waited long—for that glory and that wine,the promise hollows,the words no longer shine.… Read…

Jonathan, Oh Jonathan—my best and dearest friend.How could this have been the end? Felled by sword—perhaps a spear.How did that Philistine get so near? I see you lying on the ground—sacred silence, not a sound.And then a final gasp of breath.But in that moment, before your death,you gently whispered my nameand said, “Long live the… Read…

Emmanuel—God with us. Your Presence… simply present.In the hush of morning light,in the dark of every night,You walk with me—my steady, guiding Light. I do not ask for signs or wondersto know that I’m Yoursand You are mine.I need no proof for eye or ear;my spirit knows—That You are near. Nearer than my very breath,nearer… Read…

He shuffled through the fresh-fallen snow, his coat unbuttoned in the winter’s blow. It hung upon his fragile frame as though it wrapped him up in shame. His heavy hair hung long and dark; his eyes betrayed no living spark. Candles glowed in the windows of the church – a beacon in the night, their… Read…

Regardless of what my senses speak,His Christmas promise holds the weak.The earth will know that perfect peace—from North to South,from West to East. The angels didn’t get it wrongwhen they sang their midnight song.Though we may struggle, though we sigh,true faith sees far beyond the eye. It hears the Voice no sound can bind,a Love… Read…

The fuel of war, they say, is youth.I wish it wasn’t so.Perhaps the ones in soft-lit rooms—should be the ones to go. Hundreds of thousands, young and strong,their voices stilled,their unsung songs. And how “honoured” they must feel—we give them just one day,two minutes bowed in silence…then hurry on our way. Politicians—commanders too—return to maps… Read…

There is a certain feeling which very often comes—The feeling that, though far removed from yesterday, I’m one.Believers of past ages, though dead, are yet alive:Great men of faith, and women strong, whose witness still survives. I take a book down from its shelfAnd find within a world of wealth.I hear the preacher’s fearless cry,I… Read…

Free at last—oh, free at last—From all the cares of living;From storms that raged, from fears that crashed,The loving and forgiving. Now his spirit’s lifted high,In its sweet release;Resting in the grip of God,Wrapped in perfect peace. The chains of flesh have fallen loose,The weight and pain forgotten;The old has vanished—slipped awayA new world is… Read…

A broken heart, the poets say, is never out of style. Subtly it’s hiding just beneath the plastic smile. We save our crying for the rain, and medicate to dull the pain. The faces passing through the park sunlit by day yet shadowed in the dark. And who their stories dare to tell, and walk… Read…

Little red wagons, scooters, and trikes,Freckled-faced boys and two-wheeler bikes.Blue jeans with patches, a rip, maybe two,Runners worn thin, with soles breaking through. Camped by the river, a fish on the line—Tugging and pulling, his luck’s doing fine.Where are the girls? He doesn’t care;Silly creatures with long silky hair. “I’ll never get married!” the little… Read…

I must go to the river,the river of my youth,still searching, always searching,for something like the truth. Its water dark as midnight,still holds my dreams and fears,and all the faded memoriesI’ve gathered through the years. They rise and drift before meas silently I stare—a flood of old emotionsstill hanging in the air. Those dreams came… Read…

It doesn’t really matter now.What has been done is done.A finished race cannot simply be rerun. Standing at the edge of time, all the lines seem blurred—success, failure, good, bad—the easy answers I once had. Once it all seemed clear and bright.I waited for the crowd to cheer,but silence ruled the endless night.No one cared… Read…

Searching through the mist of time,a veiled face I see—my own,securely wrapped in silent history. How is it I have come to stand in this special place?I had no plan, no map in handto guide me through the race. My wind-swept steps, faint traces brushed upon the sand,silently they witness—there must have been a plan.… Read…

I hear their voices, strong and clear, Though they have left the stage. They sang me through my troubled youth— Now just a timeworn, faded page. They never saw me in the crowd, Nor did they know my name. Yet through their music, every word Brought solace to my pain. They sparked my dreams and… Read…

The memory of a limestone house in quiet country place. Brings gentle warmth into my heart – a subtle smile to my face. Beneath the stately maple trees, whose branches offered shade. We children laughed and lingered there, content in games we played. Long summer days we thought would last, with eyes that could not… Read…

In my youth, I couldn’t stay— I left behind my yesterdays. Strathcona – tiny hamlet – dusty street— You could not bind my wandering feet. I heard the city call my name— It promised wealth, it whispered fame. Through wind-swept streets by day and night, I knocked on doors until, with knuckles bruised and sore,… Read…

If I could keep one yesterday, while all the others slipped away, no thought, no prayer would be required— one day alone my life inspired. You know the one— the moment when my eyes first found the light in yours, your smile, the magic in your gaze, the wonder of your spirit free, alive with… Read…

Today I walked through yesterday,Too old to dance, too old to play.From limestone bluffs, I watched the stream—It whispered fragments of my dream. The things I planned, the love I knew,The girl I’d hold as I passed through.I smiled, I frowned, I shed a tear—So much undone, so much unclear,So much unloved along the way—The… Read…

Flaming orange—the lilies bloom,And fill the air with sweet perfume.They paint the summer meadows fair,And splash their brilliance everywhere. They cast their fragrance on the breeze—Unashamed, bold, with careless ease.They bless the wanderer passing byWith joy no gold could ever buy. Orange lilies of July—You bloom, then fade, with soft goodbye.Yet hope and faith –… Read…

Here in the place where once we danced,Wrapped in the youthful arms of love,I kissed your lips, your fingertips,The touch that time could not eclipse. The singing water in the stream – the silent keeper of the dream,That far beyond the reach of time,I would be yours, and you’d be mine.But that, of course, was… Read…

Its graceful movements in ascent,Swaying softly in still air.Fading trails dissolve too soon,Yet charm me as they dance,Whispering gently to my soul, “Go ahead and take a chance.”   Life is brief—don’t hesitate.                                                        Moments fly, then fade from sight, Like smoke rings rising from my pipe.                                                                                          But in their passing, this I hear:Make a difference… Read…

I walked beside a brook today;Its music swept my soul away—Back to the days of childish truth,That fleeting season of my youth.                                                           I sat beneath a tree so tallAnd knew I knew not truth at all. I walked beside a stream once more;Its song unlocked a hidden door— Into a future still unknown,Not yet revealed, not… Read…

What do you see in the old apple treein the grip of the cold winter’s blast?Snow drifted high beneath a steel grey sky;and you wonder, “How long will this last?” Do you mourn for the seasonthat just passed away,when each branch was heavy with fruit?O, how did that world of life and soundbecome so dead… Read…

I’m watching Christmas come apart—it soon will disappear,slipping from my field of sightfor yet another year.I see my wife, a Christmas elf,lays each treasure on the shelf,deep in the closet, behind a doorwhere it has all been kept before. We pause a bit and catch our breath,share a look, a knowing smirk—and wonder if it’s… Read…

Like Hannah of old, we prayed for a child—for years upon aching years.Our hearts turned liquid, poured themselves outin an endless flow of tears.The heavens felt sealed, as if made of brass;no prayer could pass on through.Anger and frustration simmered within—a bitter and toxic brew. Somewhere along that desolate roadof barrenness and loss,with no more… Read…

Beyond the gently rolling hills, beside the clear-water lake,the journey of my childhood I still love to make.In this place of sweet repose—water lapping at my toes—I feel the joy of being home,gathered with my childhood friends. Many, of course, have passed away,and yet they’re still alive—and always shall be,as long as memory survives. Some… Read…

I hear the song of winterwhen the moon hangs cold and bright.Fresh-fallen snow reflects its glow,illumining the night. The memory is old, and yetas fresh as when first made—a teenage lad with a romantic soul,imagining games yet to be played. The moonscape stretched before meas I stood upon the hill;every sight and every soundawakening another… Read…

I watch young lovers in the park,dancing in the summer sun.I watch them in the winter too,laughing as through the snow they run. Love lingers on in fall and spring—it’s beauty such a lovely thing.And in a world that weighs me down,I love the hope they bring. And when my soul feels haunted,I hear the… Read…

Today my world is winter white.The noonday sun is shining bright.The wind is on a holy tear,sweeping snow into the air.Where it is going—I need not know;Someone, I’m sure, the way must show. It seems to pause along its flight,then threatens to snatch my hat outright.It can’t fool me—I hear it laugh,it huffs and puffs,… Read…

In the subtle morning light I see him, always sitting there—a handsome stranger, tall and strong, with rich brown hair.Steel-blue eyes that seem to holddeep, private mysteries untold.He does not look that old, and yethis youth appears somehow dimmed—as if he once was confident,but now his hope has thinned. I could not say for certain—yet… Read…

By day we walked the sand along the water’s edge,by night we danced in moonlit hush beside the sleeping hedge.Life seemed so grand—the future resting in our hands. We dreamed of all we hoped might be,of endless possibility.Hope was easy then to hold,a simple song we sang, unrolled. All we knew was what we sawreflected… Read…

Why does beauty make me cry? While certain music makes me high. It’s not like it started yesterday—I have always been this way. Even as a child so youngI wrote poetry, and songs I sung.The morning dawn, the setting sun—when each and every day was done—brought a teardrop to my eye;the night was met with… Read…

I hear it in the falling rain,even though I can’t explain.I see it everywhere I look,and hear it when I read a book. It dances in the moon aboveand smiles in the face of love.I hear it sing in every song—it feels at home, like it belongs. When birds of grace pass through the air,yes,… Read…