The Clay Considers

Not much of a reader

Not much of a saint

Have tried meditation

But clearly I can’t.

Walked down that straight aisle

And pledged a fresh start

But memories still haunt me

And torment my heart.

I see the True Vine

But vaguely I guess

Still Jesus you graft me

And promise your best.

Not A grade or B grade

I simply believe.

In night calms you visit

I gladly receive

A touch of compassion

A measure of hope

A burden for others

Who wander and grope

This clay has your purpose

And spins with delight

And feels your caressing

And shaping so right.


(Doug Blair)


The Wild Flock


It must be rough

Watching us

In the upward climb.

Heads butt

And feet stray

From the path

You know is best.

And I am in this bunch.

Hazards too many

Because of our stiff necks

And crazy inclinations.

Because of the mean weather

And the skulking wolf.

A friend passed yesterday

We bleated our misery

Missing a member.

Feeling our vulnerability.

But your rod, Sir

And your staff

They comfort me

In strange ways.

And with you

It is mostly sunshine

And that high, lush plateau*

Will be attained.


(*Romans 8: 35-39)

Doug Blair, Waterloo, ON

Seated High

You’re up on my shoulders
And tugging my hair
And laughing
For all you hold dear.
And daughter
I’d carry you anywhere
Delighting that you
Cling so near.
The sun is at apex
And waves wash my feet
And time has been
Frozen it seems.
Oh will you remember
When years pull apart
Our walks and our talks
And our dreams?
This Father is weeping
In spite of the joy
For blessings
Unearned in your smile.
And thinking the Father
Has carried me high
And kept me from harm
All the while.

Doug Blair, Waterloo, ON


To have a friend
Who gently checks the pulse rate
And shuts his mouth
When I am prone to rant.
To see his smile
When all inside is ripped up
And know he means it
Even though I can’t.
To hear his word
And know it’s steeped in Christ
Hard come by
Transcending all the pain.
Yes, such a friend
One diamond full
Of scintillating comfort
Is priceless gain.

Doug Blair, Waterloo, ON

Holy Fear

I would hate to disappoint you
And am driven by the thought
That you suffered for my failings
And my pardon bravely bought.
Not a one gets in as closely
To my heart of hearts’ repose
Though my mind can scarcely fathom
That before all time You chose
To adopt me in the Firstborn
And to give me grace to stand
Right before your throne of Glory
Not with shaking voice or hand.
There’s a boldness now in coming
And in kneeling at your feet
And the change is thanks to Calvary
And it makes my joy complete.

Psalm 34
Hebrews 4: 15, 16