lyrics & poems
lyrics from epilogue
The Wicket Gate
By Jimmy Atkins
Based on and inspired by the first pages of John Bunyan's timeless Christian masterpiece, The Pilgrim's Progress.
A lonely road, a wicket gate, to turn me back from all this Hate.
A burdened load, it carries heavy, three times a man, four times as ready,
To break my back, spirit and mind, were it not for Words, whispered and kind,
To lead me from the City of Sin, to leave my worries and cares within.
I found that Light, nay, It found me, in the form of friends and family,
But think not I (now that I write) that they themselves were that pure light.
No, indeed, no human is, for we were bought, we all are His,
He being Love and Light itself, procured us with His richest wealth.
An only Son, a third of God, sent to walk this sinful sod,
But in that sinful sod did find, His true Belov'd, His only Bride.
So to be a humble part of this Groom's rightful, Holy Heart,
I did follow those whispered Words, through deserts, storms, and pathways curs'd.
If it meant my load would lighter be, I'd brave them all, and willingly.
The Promise was too strong to stay, so leaving all, I took the Way,
To Life, and it abundantly, my Cross held high in front of me;
I simply strode from all that Hate, on a road beyond a wicket gate.
by Jimmy Atkins
Based on Proverbs 11:24.
One person gives freely, and yet gains more, while another withholds, only to become poor.
He who gives, yet suffers not knows his to be a blessed lot.
Not gained by pow'r, nor wit of mind, this wealth of his, he could not find,
Except to find his Treasure first, Who quenches unrelenting thirst,
Not for this world and lofty gain, but for the hope of peace from pain
Found within his heart at birth; and so the giver's blessed on earth.
But for the man who clenches fists to keep from losing all he's risked,
To open hands, he knows not how, so grips with fear his idol now.
That idol, called by Currency, is all he thinks to gain, you see,
And gain he will at any cost, just to see at end it's lost.
Therefore, though it may ring insane, here is the truth: to give is gain.
In the Place of Sons
by Jimmy Atkins
With the setting sun o'er bitter years and the death of these dark days,
May I still recall the rise and fall of paths that led astray,
That I ne'er 'gain vie by eye for eye, nor live by tooth for tooth.
This, though proving strength's dull fuse shall be my leg'cy true.
For in my weakness, I am strong; yea, You are stronger still,
And so my life, though wrought with wrong, shall be Yours, Lord, to fill.
Whene'er I err a crimson way, red, angry blood I see,
And all around that horrid hound of doom doth howl at me.
Somehow, some way, through hopeless shame, Your Spirit quiets mine,
To sing to sleep the heart that weeps. And though this soul may pine,
For others' lovers, You, Christ, my Brother, my Savior once again,
Make safe and sound and bring me 'round the house in which You reign.
"Sit you down, not on the ground, but in the place of sons,
For 'twas your sin that I have borne, and alone have won!
My portion, prize, now 'fore my eyes, my love seen face to face,
You've naught but my own strength in you to help you run this race;
Enough of tears! Enough of fears! Enough, I say, enough!
For death's dark bloom has met its doom at My hand, and all for Love!
You are Mine, and I am yours, and so shall ever be,
And nothing more shall separate your ransomed heart from Me."
(c) 2016 Jimmy Atkins
Whatever happened between those trees?
Nobody seems to know.
A flickering fire, a flame in the breeze,
Leaves fall and rises a glow.
The dancing of torches like birds on a wire,
Watch as they all fade away.
Hovering beacons forged from the fire,
Or maybe a trick our eyes play.
Muddy hills whisper tales from the past,
Stories from lives gone before:
A slave seeks his master, a search party's path,
An ancient race painted for war.
I don't care for ghosts, they do nothing for me.
Everyone has their own take on the story,
But nobody knows...
Down through the ages, spectators swore,
To see lights they could not explain.
Now centuries later, this misty-mount lore,
Mystifies mankind the same.
I'm not one for ghosts, they don't do much for me,
But everybody I know claims they have a story,
But what could they know?
Could they really know?
What really happened between those trees?
the pen & the page
(c) 2011 Jimmy Atkins
Would you see me if I showed you everything I am inside?
Would you love me? Could I hold you after all I've had to hide?
Can I say that you're still mine?
I am singing, I am calling out Your name to make things new.
I am waiting, I am falling further still in deepest love with You.
Will we make it after this fight? Can you stand up when I can't?
Are we broken? Are we alright? Will you still give me your hand?
Is it over or just beginning? Can you give us one more try?
(c) 2011 Jimmy Atkins
I love to walk beside you, I love to sing your name,
And you're the only one who holds the spark that lights the flame,
That's burning in my heart, giving to my soul its light,
You know you're all I'll ever need every day and every night.
And I can breathe now a little better than before,
Got all I need now, but you know I still want more.
You're the only one who makes me, the only one who breaks me,
You're the only one who takes me as I really am.
You're the only one who sees me, the only one who needs me,
You're the only one who frees me to be who I really am.
How could I ever forget? How could I fail to realize,
That there were seasons changing when you looked into my eyes?
You know, the funniest thing is that we didn't have a clue,
The day the sadness ended and my life started with you.
And I can stand now a little stronger than before,
You're all I need now, and you know I still want more.
(c) 2009 Jimmy Atkins
Walking on my own, I feel like I'm not strong enough to breathe, not strong enough to breathe.
Standing in the sun, but there's no light that shines upon me, no light will shine on me.
Can You hear me crying out to You? Can You see me reaching up to You?
Arise and be my resurrection! Arise and let me be revived!
For You alone are my salvation, arise and bring my soul to life!
Back in Grace's arms, I know that there's no harm You can't heal, no harm You cannot heal.
So why can I still see all this death and pain around me? Such pain surrounding me...
Withhold not Your voice, withhold not Your wisdom, withhold not Your hope,
And bring me life, bring me life...
(c) 2008 Jimmy Atkins
Is it enough for you to stand your ground? Is it enough for me to hang around?
The answer is yes when we're looking up, and the answer's the same when we're both let down.
When all that's said are words that only hurt, it's all said and done and still I've only learned,
That our love will carry us, and it's enough.
Is it enough for me to make you mine? Is it enough for you for all of time?
I think we both know what we would say.
We'd say forgive and forget, love like the day that we met, never gonna let anything stand in our way,
And our love will carry us, and it's enough.
When life grows old, and we grow with it, too, you'll remember me, and I'll not forget you,
'Cuz our love has carried us, yes, our love has carried us, and it's enough.
(c) 2010 Jimmy Atkins
I am hanging on to these last few straws because
They are all I've known, but the wind has blown so hard, I'm far
From most everything that I thought I would need to find You.
Now I'm at the edge of a blazing bridge I've burned.
Ooh, see me. Ooh, free me. Ooh, mighty is Your hand.
Looking back again, I see my sins so red. My head,
It is pounding now, and I don't know how to bring the ringing
To a duller roar than before I saw it all
Through the smiling eyes You realized in me.
The tension's straining now, gaining speed, losing ground.
It silences all the sound. Where am I? Am I found?
The release floods o'er me now, gaining speed, gaining speed.
Your hand beneath me, my ground. You save me, You save me!
The Pen & The Page (Poem)
(c) 2015 Jimmy Atkins
Stories long and mem'ries old dance behind my eyes with bold
And brazen souls. No room or cage can hold these back from pen and page.
Fears of death and frights from doubt might harm within if not let out
Into the world, and so, engage the purpose of both pen and page.
Dreams and drives that make hearts beat and run the body's length to feet
That triumph race and battles waged, now known because of pen and page.
Each sort of man may use these tools; the poor who serves, the rich who rules,
The fool who boasts, the wisest sage, all written down by pen and page.
No length of long, no depth of deep, no width of wide can story keep.
There is no measurement to gauge the power of this pen and page.
And so these things are written down, that what the mind may lose be found,
And though my name may someday fade, my life will live beyond my days.
The wisdom from my wounds sustained will bleed into another's way.
The blood I spill is black with age and lies between this pen and page.
Calls from the Sea
The salt, salt sea, she sings to me under a blanket of stars,
And here I be upon that sea, and dream of the warmth of your arms.
And many a man has tried his own hand out on the ocean deep,
And some might say they've lost their way following calls from the sea.
For she rages and storms like a woman scorned, and then she's at peace again.
Oh, it's some sort of madness to steer away sadness by sailing out into that wind.
Yes, it's true, I surely miss you while I'm tossed 'round about by these waves,
So I look towards home and hope that you know I'm coming back and this time I'll stay.