The prequel to my January 29th poem, In Search Of Heros.


When I was young, and  throughout my life
I’ve loved the tales of men ready for strife,
the kings and squires and the knights of old,
valiant stout men, who were fearless and bold.

Drawn by their virtues, to which I aspire,
courage, and strength and a passion like fire,
they’d protect the weak and vanquish the foe,
rescue the maidens, send evil below.

All this is thrilling, inspiring and fine.
But how does it apply to a life like mine?
Where are the dragons, the armies, the spells?
And where is the life of which legend tells?

If eyes could see, we live it every day.
Yes, a Kingdom’s at stake. Make no delay.
Maidens held captive and dragons abound.
Armies of wizards, casting spells around.

Renewed incantations that God is dead.
An impersonal force, natural instead.
Something to be harnessed, feel or let flow,
only material, no one can know.

Not like old myths, foreshadowing the One;
Man’s common longing fulfilled in the Son.
They may have been tales, but they did not lie—
pointed to meaning beyond live and die.

Don’t get me wrong. Assume where I’m going,
Don’t blame science for all this dark snowing.
Science knows that God is outside its sphere.
Can’t measure, repeat, or review by a peer.

White-coated wizards have taken the leap,
willing men followed down, slippery and steep.
Can’t measure Him, test Him, bind Him or prove—
conclude, “Nonexistent”, “How we’ve improved.”

New Profs were glad to void old shame and guilt,
happy to break down the walls God had built.
Walls to protect, boundaries to reveal,
then could repent, be forgiven to heal.

Walls that would stop us from having our fun.
They must see them down until there are none.
None of the walls that could protect and guide,
no truth boundaries, where innocent could hide.

So decades ago the battle was turned.
Evolution enthroned passions that burn.
Science and logic got stripped of their birth
by men glad to remove God from the earth.

The wizards removed the possible God,
teaching only proofs that work on this sod.
Purpose, meaning, lost to cause and effect,
now nothing exists that we can’t detect.

Revelation removed as source from books.
Social science tells us who are the crooks.
What’s healthy, what’s normal, it’s theirs to say.
Feels good, must be good, was born this way.

A few generations and we’re set adrift.
Confusion and fear, to children our gift.
As our ladies stood up for things that were wrong,
but we left behind God, how far we have gone?

Since, so much racism, decades ago,
along with vices their virtues must go.
We’ll redefine family, gender and rights,
while more fatherless children cry through the night.

So, how’s it apply to a life like mine?
Still takes courage, strength and passion entwine.
The struggle still real, stakes still so high.
The battle, so different than meets the eye.

Now it’s . . .

Courage to follow the One they reject.
Strength to lay down the self-life they protect.
Passion to pursue truth right to the end.
Heroes are still the ones bucking the trend.

Now we’re the elders, will we make the choice?
Pursue truth with passion, heeding His voice.
Will we tell the youth of the knights of old?
And show them YOU; real, loving and bold.

This poem and its sequel are both from my poetry/devotional book, THE GRACE OF RAIN. Now Available on