For Every Broken Heart That Ever Spent A Lonely Night Alone

p_rehbein · Aug 10, 2019

WOUNDS OF TIME

It's been too long
since last I heard your voice.
Too long
since last I saw your smile.

It's been too long
since last we touched,
and it's been forever, darling
since last we loved.

Where did they go?
The days we spent in the sun?
The days you and I
walked and talked, held hands,
and lived as one?

Were they really so long ago?
Are we that far apart?
Was I dreaming,
or was I sleeping
the night your love did depart?

It's been too long
since your cool touch on my brow eased the strife.

Tell me, love,
has it really been that many years?
Is it happiness you see
shining through these tears?

Are you again to be
only a moment of sunshine in my life?
Or will you now stay
where once again we may walk
as man and wife?

It's been too long
since last I heard your voice.
Too long
since last I saw your smile.
It's been oh so long
since last we touched,
and it's been forever, darling,
since last we loved.

p.rehbein

p_rehbein · Aug 10, 2019

BOUNDARIES

Created by a Society
who in whole or in part are to blame
hated by my own race
forced to live in shame.

Guilty of loving
one not the same.
Sharing an experience of the heart
is my pain.

Searching for a time
when understanding will come.
Turning deaf ears
to the bitter words of disapproval that now hum.

Moments of pleasure
too few we share.
Exchanging only the words
"for you I truly care."

A love destined
to end incomplete.
Yet, so real
that it's flame would match the suns heat.

Once more, before this moment ends,
and before in it's proper place
our lives blend,
hold me tight, darling new
and don't ever, ever forget my love for you.

p.rehbein

p_rehbein · Aug 10, 2019

(WITHIN)

Quietly darling, tell me again "I love you."
(to listen to the love sent forth in your sighs)

Hold me darling, your strength forever is true.
(to look and see the warmth in your eyes)

Kiss me darling, make the world go away.
(to kiss, and taste the sweet wine made for the gods above)

Touch me darling, forever in your arms will I stay
(to touch, and know that you are love)

See me darling, don't mistake who I am.
(to see the everlasting bliss growing in you)

In love darling, with you forever and a day.
(just a man darling, trying to make come true the wishes
and dreams of life just for you)

For me darling with your love, all these dreams come true.

p.rehbein

p_rehbein · Aug 10, 2019

BLESSEDLY TRUE

I stopped by the cemetery the other day to place some flowers on the grave of a loved one of mine who had recently passed away. And, as I was standing thee, remembering, shedding a tear, I noticed a young man not far away. He was talking, I couldn't help but overhear. I was so moved by his obvious heartbroken grief that I ventured closer, hoping that with my elder wisdom, I could offer him some relief.

I knelt beside him, and offered my him my hand, his held a single wildflower not commonly found in this part of the land. His eyes were swollen, tears drenched his face. His wrists were encased in steel. He looked, but didn't see me, it was as if someone he knew had knelt there in my place. Then, he laid the flower beside the stone marking the grave, and, again he bowed his head. The words came rushing forth, echoing, as if spoken in a cave.

"Mom, so often you've asked me to tell you my innermost thoughts and the things that I do. Is it that I truly don't believe, or is it my fear of your understanding I'll receive? It's true, there are times we're apart, in body and in mind, yes, even in heart. But those times are necessary, those things must be done, for it's never, ever, ever, that two individuals can really be one.

If you only knew of the love I contain, locked within my breast, for eternity to remain. Mom, I learned early in life, on those streets of my youth, not to show the concern for those I would help lift from their strife. They didn't want to know of my love for them. It's I that was hurt every time I ventured from within. So, the walls were built around this heart that cared, and words of compassion went unspoken, I never dared.

This world I live in is a cruel one indeed. No matter how loud or how often I screamed, they would never heed. You live, even now, as a Saint. Your faith forever is true. But my world is evil, and faith is a dollar bill or two. That I love you with all the being I possess is a truth need not spoken. Accept this flower as you would my love, though it's merely a token. Mom, listen to me now, as I think my thoughts of you. My darling Mother, my faith in you is blessedly true."

The young man rose, and brushing stray bits of turf from the knees of his jeans, he walked slowly to a waiting car, a black and white four door with emergency lights and a siren. I looked at the flower resting there by the stone at my feet, and, just then a sudden gust of wind blew the small flower out into the street.

Each time I return to visit the lost loved one of mine, I look for that young man, he's never there, nor has he been, and I'm always surprised at what I find. Around the stone where we had knelt so many years ago, a small patch of wildflowers not commonly found in this part of the land, always seem to grow.

p.rehbein

p_rehbein · Aug 10, 2019

FUTURES PAST

I have lived many lives, I have shed many tears. I am the daughters. I am the sons. I am the wives. I am their hopes and their fears. I am the living and the dead. I am the sightless and the lame. I am blue, white, and red. I am the honor and the shame.

I spare no man. I leave untouched no home. I am the scar upon the land. I am but a child, not yet grown. I am the future you see. I am all of your past. I am the guardian of Liberty, I am the fortress made fast. I am the clouds of a darkened night. I am the light of every day. I am the cause for which men fight. I am the source of children's play. I am the birth of a Nation. I am the death of a King. I am the price of each generation. I am the cost of misguided dreams.

I am the guide arm of salvation. I am the demons of your soul. I am the tool of creation. I am the curse of the Holy Scroll. I am the liberator of slaves. I am the chains of the free. I am the glory each man craves. I am the horror every mother sees.

I am war.

p.rehbein

p_rehbein · Aug 10, 2019

ME

How do you explain a moment,
an idea, a desire?
How do you tell someone the feeling
when you can't explain it to yourself?

Is there a way
to explain the feeling of life,
love, or existence?

These questions are present,
ever pressing in my mind.
Uncertain of the answers,
I doubt the reasons my heart doth find.

There must be a purpose for the existence of man,
and each individual must find his own way.
Which is mine?
Who is to say?

Given to to thought of the being I call me,
I find the substance quite impossible to see.

With the time and peace
I share with you,
I'm sure there will come a day
when I'll know that you know too.

p.rehbein

p_rehbein · Aug 10, 2019

(untitled)

Savior Lord, I want to say I love You.
Father God, I praise Your Name.
Holy Spirit, You've been a comfort to me
and now I'm finally coming home.

So many years I lived in sorrow
walking through this world of sin and shame.
Never knowing the meaning of salvation,
until the night you called my name.

I can still recall that very night
on bended knee I cried in anguish;
Is there anyone, anywhere who loves me?
Can anyone take away this pain?

I knelt down broken and defeated,
but I rose, I rose a child of The King!

So many years I've lived in sorrow.
Walking through this world of sin and shame.
Never knowing the meaning of salvation,
until the night You called my name.

Savior Lord, I want to say I love You.
Father God, I praise your Name.
Holy Spirit, You've been a comfort to me,
and now, I'm finally coming home.

p.rehbein

p_rehbein · Aug 10, 2019

WINTRY REWARD

Wintry mist of pure fallen white.
Glazed beauty of Old Man Snow.
Covers as a blanket, this December night,
Carried on the wind which doth blow.

Candlelit windows of cottages appear
As we glide along swift in flight.
Closer, and closer, the lights draw near,
bells a jingle, steps so sprite.

Expectations run free across the mind.
A glass of wine, bread and cheese.
These are the things we find,
Small comforts for a wintry night to please.

Log fire, candle light, brandy and you.
The evening warm and content.
Seduction of all mental cares,
this wintry night's intent.

p.rehbein

p_rehbein · Aug 10, 2019

HI, KILLER

Now, being a man whom adventure likes to seek,
I took me down to Gillies, just to have a peek.
Well, fellas, let me say, I was quite impressed.
Shoot, I went right out and bought myself
A genuine Cowboy vest!

Then I got me a guitar,
And I wrote this song.
I'd like to sing it for ya,
It won't take too long.

Now, the first thing I learned about Gillies you see,
If your looking for the place
Houston town
Is not where you want to be.

You see, it's in Pasadena, a suburb of the Dome.
And a lot of weird people call that place home.
It'll cost ya some dollars to get in the door,
But, it'll take ya all night to walk across the dance floor.

They got plenty of Georgia plow boys,
Looking like the Urban Cowboy.
There's Tourists and regulars, rich men and beggars.
And a mile of bars.

There's live music, whiskey and wine.
And parking space for a thousand cars.
I thought I'd took a wrong turn,
And ended up at Earl Shives.

There's girls by the dozens
Wearing boots, jeans and curls.
But don't look for high fashion,
Wearing low cut gowns and pearls.

They got a beer called Gillies,
And a lefty named Snake.
A bull known as "Bucking Theresa",
And a waitress named Jake
(now don't that take the cake?)

There's this fella named Killer
That I've yet to see dance.
But he'll show you the quick step
If you give him half a chance.
(sort of a private tutor you might say)

When the time come for leaving,
I don't think I was sad,
But I won't know until tomorrow
What a good time I had.

So, if ya ever get the chance,
and a straw hat that looks new.
And ya wanna see Gillies,
I'll tell ya what to do.

Motivate over to Pasadena
And find Spencer Highway.
It's East of Ritchey Street
and West of Red Bluff by the way.
(about three miles from Larry's Curios)

Look for the sign
Way up in the sky
It'll say GILLIES
And they'll all say Hi!

Me?
Well, I'd better just pass on by.
(Killer's still a bit upset with me)

Hi, Killer!

p.rehbein

p_rehbein · Aug 10, 2019

THREE QUARTER HIGH

We've come a long way
on our separate ways
to be where we are today,
so play for me cowboy, play.

Getting it together,
getting it on
getting it good
well, we're almost gone.
Part time highs
and saying goodbyes
and always being wrong.

We're blowing our minds
on cheep berry wines,
and dancing the blues
in three quarter time.

Getting stoned on the gig,
hassled by the pigs,
and picking our guitars
with marijuana twigs.

Getting it together
getting it on
getting it good
well, we're almost gone.
With all our part time highs
and saying goodbyes
and almost always being wrong.

p.rehbein

p_rehbein · Aug 10, 2019

BENEATH THY WINGS

Oh sweet angle standing by me
Let me hide myself beneath thy wings.
Keep the world away,
Keep the tempest at bay,
Oh sweet angle, let me hide myself
Beneath thy wings.

Oh sweet angel standing by me,
I know you were sent by the Great I Am.
Over me to care, 'till the day doth come,
When you'll carry me home to be with Him.
Oh sweet angle, oh sweet angle,
Let me hide myself beneath thy wings.

Oh sweet angle standing by me,
Let me hide myself beneath thy wings
Keep the world away,
Keep the tempest at bay,
Oh sweet angle, let me hide myself
Beneath thy wings.

p.rehbein

p_rehbein · Aug 10, 2019

WITHIN EACH MAN

When considering things that make up the being called man,
We must not forget the imperfect functions that make him human.

So, if at any time, in his imperfect way,
He blunders an attempt to express himself,
Let us not condemn,
Rather understand the barriers
He must overcome
To even to begin to comprehend the being of us.

So, who is to say that I am not unlike you when I express myself?

p.rehbein

p_rehbein · Aug 10, 2019

BOOGERS NIGHT

It was a drippy wet November night
that found me sitting out on the balcony
wishing for moonlight.

A cigarette, and a cup of coffee gone cold
were my substitute
replacing the burning desire
for someone warm to hold.

Feeling sorry for myself
perched there all alone,
and wondering if anyone other than me
was looking for a home?

When, across the courtyard,
through the shadows did appear
a sad, comical sight.

It was a rained soaked orphan
wiping at a tear.
A forlorn cry did escape his lips
as he spied me there above.
A sorrow filled questioning plea
as into another puddle he dipped.

It wasn't at all polite
for me to sit there grinning,
but he was such a lovely sight
that it most set my heat to spinning.

"Come on up here, Booger."
I spoke without hesitation.
"We'll have to dry you off
and get a better look at ya,
hell, you could be a relation."

With a squeal,
and a hope filled desperate scamper,
he bound lightening quick up the stairs
to a shivering stop at my feet.
I'd never seen a cat any damper.

"Come on in Booger,
let's get you some milk."
Taking up an old towel
I set to drying him off,
and the way he purred,
you would have thought it was made of silk.

He finished the milk,
and some bologna and cheese.
I had another cup of coffee and a cigarette,
with him curled there on my knees.

What, with him a purring,
and me sipping and puffing,
things didn't seem quite so bad.
"Hey, Booger,
you know what?
Your the first visitor I've had."

Booger, he mewed
and rolled over for a belly scratch.
I fluffed and scruffed him,
and figured when it came to ships in the night,
Me and old Booger didn't have a match.

It's been a year last week
since that November night,
and I've moved to a bigger place in the country
so as to enjoy log fires,
warm red wine, and candle light.

"What about Booger?"

It's real funny you should ask.
Old Booger turned out to be a mamma cat,
and keeping up with those four
alley kittens of hers
is surely a full time task.

p.rehbein

p_rehbein · Aug 11, 2019

NAIL SCARED HAND

I've seen joyous tears flow down the cheeks from a mothers eyes, as she listens to the music filling the delivery room, when her newborn baby first cries.

I've seen the snow covered peaks of great mountains in a far away land, and marveled at the chorus of sounds created by the wind blowing through their valleys, sounds of an angelic band.

I've sailed the vast oceans and seen the wealth of life they hold. Listened to the stories of seafarers long forgot, an old sailor once told.

I've seen the great deserts of our Western lands, and stood in awe at their transformation into an oasis of colors after a summer rain. The wildflowers are so beautiful, that they could have only been planted by the Masters Hand.

The wonders of the world I have witnessed one by one, forests and plains, castles of old, great rivers shining like gold when illuminated by a setting sun.

Yet, my heart longs and my life wanes incomplete. Nothing will fill the void in my soul, until the day I am sitting at the Masters feet.

His creations are a treasure to behold. Earth, sea, sky, sand, but I long for the day when He smiles at me and lets me hold His nail scared hand. (John 20:24-29)

p.rehbein

p_rehbein · Aug 11, 2019

(untitled)

Every step I take
is one closer
to that eternal sleep,
and I wonder why
sometimes I run?

Am I joyous in my agony?
Or, do I suffer
in my victory?

Still yet,
I contemplate,
for it's true,
I know not my feelings.

My memories contain
a lifetime of sorrow.
Would my future
hold not any less?

Again,
I must sleep;
I pray
that I may not dream.

p.rehbein

p_rehbein · Aug 11, 2019

IN SOLITUDE, I STAND NOT ALONE

As I sit quietly among the stately pines which surround this mountain home, I give pause to wonder how anyone, in such glorious seclusion, could ever feel alone?

The wind that whispers through this stand of trees, is as that of the voice of God. I listen in awe, and question, in a chorus of revelation, why a different path I ever trod?

The birds that nest among the sheltering limbs, are as the angles. Come the morning sun, they take to the air to do their work, yet, when evening comes, they return to roost and sing His hymns.

The newborn fawn whose haven is amid the fallen needles which carpet the ground, is as a just saved Christian in need of strength and growth. He is nurtured through time, and faith will grow from this salvation he has found.

I know the answers to the questions my hearth doth ask. 'Tis truth, when one stands with God, he does not stand alone. To stand such is my choice, to walk such is my task.

p.rehbein

p_rehbein · Aug 11, 2019

NOT NOW

We speak in words
forms of thought, verbal emissions.
Continually attempting communication.
Oft times, we listen, but hardly ever hear.

Understanding means more than interpretation of words,
listening is not always hearing.
Times arise when words are inadequate to communicate,
and listening becomes a sense of touch.

Feeling consist more times than not
of pain, vibrations, pleasure.
A touch, feeling, words
listening.

Are they really that different?

When I feel, I speak. When I touch, I listen.
When I listen, I feel, touch, listen,
feel words of understanding.

When I love, I speak. When I feel, I love.
When I listen, I feel the love you are speaking of.

Listen, understand, feel, touch.
There is really no need to speak.

p.rehbein

p_rehbein · Aug 11, 2019

THE PRICK OF THE THORN

A thorn prick brought forth a drop of blood. Who could know that this
seemingly insignificant act would give birth to a Crimson river that
would run so deep, that it's cleansing power would be more than
sufficient to save every soul ever born? From first to last, throughout
the ages, from this day until the end of time. Still yet, that wasn't the
most miraculous part of the story. The most miraculous part is that
from that day until this, and for all the days yet to be, that Crimson River
has not decreased it's depth by one single drop!

The Resurrection surely deserves joyous proclamation! But let us not
forget that had it not been for the Sacrifice, there would be no salvation.
The Resurrection was His victory over death, thus proclaiming that we too
could have eternal life. Yet, it was the prick of the thorn upon His brow,
the wounds He suffered to His hands, His side and His feet, and the death
He willingly chose that paid the price for our sins, and allowed us to become
worthy to be called the Children of God.

Were it not for the Sacrifice, the Resurrection could not have come to pass.
Jesus said it Himself: "Greater love hath no man than that he would give his life
for his brother." And that is just what He did!

So sing joyously of the Resurrection and it's promise of eternal life, but, never, never forget the prick of the thorn.
For it was on Calvary's Cross where our Lord, the Son of Man paid the price!

p.rehbein

p_rehbein · Aug 11, 2019

HOMECOMING

I have passed a lonely night amid the shadows of the seven hills of Rome,
and slept throughout a rainy day, when once I called Paris home.
I have wandered in discontent with London's fog for my shroud,
and wept with tear glazed eyes when the pipes of Eire played so loud.

Far distant lives have I lived in another land, time spent searching
for one outstretched, understanding hand. At last, I turned my charted course
towards the shores of my birthright home, and there 'twas finally I found
a warm fire and a humble throne.

Some subscribe to the mistaken belief that one can never return to stay,
but, 'tis true, deep in my heart, I never really went away.

p.rehbein

p_rehbein · Aug 11, 2019

WE SURE MUST BE A LUCKY FELLOW

I threw me a party for myself and I. The two of us were loud and hearty,
there was no one left to cry. We danced, and sang, and drank a gallon of wine.
All the neighbors thought us crazy, how could we have such a good time?
The entrees' were a big hit. Not once did I hear a complaint. Why, I even told me,
"My friend, you cook like a saint." Ah, we told of days gone by, and not even one
story ended up sad. The places we've been, the ladies we've loved, all those good
times we've had. We each told our favorite jokes, they were sure to bring a smile.
We exchanged recipes, and lit each others smokes, then sat, and just watched the
candles burn for awhile. As we shared the last of the wine, our reminiscing became
easy and mellow, We congratulated each other for having such good friends.
We sure must be a lucky fellow!

'Cause, I got me and this empty bottle here, I've never been lonely can't ya see?
And that old mirror of mine ain't ever seen a tear.

p.rehbein

For Every Broken Heart That Ever Spent A Lonely Night Alone

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