An Odd Ode

An Odd Ode

Know I, I’m odd, but I wouldn’t be
Anything other than what is me,
And God I believe in even though
I’m not ideal at what I know.

Look I, upon this life I’ve led
Through a window from my bed,
Assembled in the stars I see
A medley of what used to be.

Though my body’s weak my soul believes
In a God so True and Old,
And e’en though I’m odd I know that He’s
Formed another for my heart to hold.

And e’en I sometimes am bewildered,
By my own design so odd it be,
E’en at that I know my prayers are heard
Through this perplexing odyssey.

Peculiar at times within my head,
But if in the end only my God
Will love me for the things I’ve said
I’ll be alright with being odd.

-Jacob Winterfeldt

Fleeting Winds of Yore

Fleeting Winds of Yore

Ah, the fleeting winds of yore,
As seeing with Gods own eye,
As the breeze upon the shore,
I feel his presence oh so nigh.

Such a world divinely inspired,
From a thought we were devised,
From holy men who’ve ascended higher,
With that rite we on Earth arrived.

Born into a world made by those,
Who cross all of space and time,
Raised by parents whose faith they show,
By teaching us of a plan divine.

A plan that brings us back to grace,
The only one within it be,
A story told of a holy place,
A place I wish that I could see.

With those winds of yore I fly,
Along a road paved in the sky,
A golden path my feet will trod,
To ascend the heights to meet my God.

And when I meet Him I will rise,
As I have dreamt, stand on my feet,
I will look my God in His holy eyes,
And He will honor me as I speak.

With Him a few words I will share,
Nothing fancy, complex, great or long,
I just say, “Thank you for listening to my prayers,
And letting me know that thou art my God.”

-Jacob Winterfeldt