IF I LOVED YOU 6                               6fina6

stage 1.                                    A BLESSING.....BORN AGAIN...A NAME

 

What child is this?,

What is a name and who is blest? .

Who was blest and given a  name ....(  November 7th, 1999)

Was it God that held her?

To her there was a nest..

 

My son, Harold did  ask me.

And many others  would not desist.

Were  asked to come.

There  to stand ..there to  assist .

 

This  blessing.........given by her father.

Was it then a gift......a gift  from God?

 

I, in walking to the stand,

Was then to be  diverted ,

First I could not be.

I walked alone a pace.... to see. 

.

  The others went on past

 they passed me to the stand,

 and I became.....  one of the last

 

 There were many Elders..... big and tall

 in the  circle,

 and   my hands  beneath them all.

 

If God a mission he has prescribed.

Can I see the pathway through the night

Was it  bright and clear by Gods great light?

 

The Cross was there that Christ was given

Not mine to bear?

But was  I was there...and he is here?

 

 

 


 

A touch this day we all received?.

This prayer was  whispered.

And are we then given this day?

And this the relation?

 

To us this day, a child is born

 

Born again...... in Spirit..

 

This....of a lovely creation

 

And God has sent us here  to see.

Oh let this be a humble act

An act of humbleness from me.

 

Am I to ask....in prayer?.

 

My father in heaven...I pray

Can I make a difference....this day.

For just this day..

Can I bring out the best?

Can I make this a day to remember?

 

  God needs a mother...in his  home.

Thanksgiving in a joyful moment.

Is there a greater calling...

To make a family a heavenly thing?

 

To take a child and make a king?

 

The hope that this might be

Throughout all eternity.

 

The smooth cheek we bend over.

Those lips in sleeping smile..this day

To myself  I then can say...

 

The face of God  face is this?

The child of God that is....

.

 

 


 

You are the angels glow

That lights the stars?.

Is this....to see.... a princess....?.

 

This is  the promised kiss of springtime..

What could not this child become?

And can we be but the hosts of heaven

 

Can these  hands........ be thy hands?

Can these hands .be..... to hold her

To lift her  spirit up.

To  support this Soul.

 

 Is this not the beginning? 

The beginning, and the bestowing

 of that spirit called .

 

What a mysterious ascension

From a little bubbling Lava....

Did  God give a living spirit?

And we have issued forth

 

Mysteriously fertilized.

 

  And were we  not held up by each?

 with  the “Spirit" of  those

those who possessed the spirit of faith?

And at  the very least,

 

Did  the spirit of hope stand by?.

 

Was this not the desire, the segregation.

From her mother and father?

Was it not spread through the congregation,

That  a special desire of  her Mother?

 

Was that a special gift?.

 

 

 

 

 


 

Was  this her  mothers prayer?

 

Was this a  Mother in the role.....

 of an angel?.

Thus was born again.. the spirit a gift...a child of God?

 She was given the name:

Heather Moselle Toomey

 

This the spirit that I see?

 

Take mommies hand and I will show,

A place where something tiny nested in the grass.

A tree with a deep bend...

Where its branches met.

 

Is this a sturdy little oak...growing.

So straight and healthy.

They sat gazing up...then at the stars.

 

As a  mother in God’s home....he sees

Does he see a creator, like he.....

If that Spirit..... faith is ??

 

 Is faith only a path that’s given there?

Is it through prayer that Faith is found ?.

To act in humbleness seeking ?

That Faith would dare?

 

Children have little sense of

The passage of time.?

Yet did  they live in a world

without reason or rhyme ?

 

Is there a perception of time as local?.

Is this peculiar....... to our place?.

And weren’t we all children and vocal?.

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

Were we insisting...demanding...Explaining.

Explanation of a moment.?..

Constantly changing our only world.

And ever so....to that which is local?

 

And are we  measuring

The flow of time.

As if by times passage.... measure?

 

We could begin to  understand and treasure?.

 

Moments...Is it a  thousand.... more?

Is it as is a day.?

Is meaning.... this as eternity??

I cannot  comprehend it is?

 

Ask a silly question, a silly answer is

But a reflection...confirmed.

But a shadow...of a silly question?

Can an answer be .......but a reflection.

 

And yet there was a moment?

The ticking of the seasons.

As the days become years

 

A timeless moment

At the end of time?

Before the beginning ?

 

Is the sun and the moon not dancing in step?.

As the days become years.

Millennia.... erratic, unreal,

Changing without purpose?

As the moon to sun and stars

The years become as centuries.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

Is the spirit but a shadow

A reflection of the Soul?.

 

Is Lucifer an  empty.... vessel?  A vulture?

Devouring other spirits...

Other beings into himself.

Is it as a Jackal  will take her Spirit?

 

Her own song of selfhood.?

As Cain like a Tiger ....left dead?

Is this tempting with vice.?.

The testing of their principles?.

Drifting away into a void?.

 

And  God cannot but tempt with virtue?

 

I had been to England during World War 11,

And was impressed  by

Stretches  of a bush named Heather.

 It was as abundant as our Sagebrush

 

 I had been in France also,

 And had crossed the Moselle River,

 During the advance of the 1st Army.

It was just a little stream that we came upon.

 

It springing lightly,

To face the sun and share the morn?.

In the chrism of dew

And the cool of morn.

 

It was itself.....like the poem..?                                .from Longfellow  Hiawatha.

.

And the spirit stooping earthward

With his finger on the water,

Traced a winding pathway for it

Saying...come this way.

With his hand he broke a fragment,

Molded it along the way.

Shaped and fashioned it.

Like a child at play.

 


 

Painted he the sky of morning

Splashing rainbow flowers on the way.

Filled the earth with birds all  singing.

At such a lovely springing...

And the grass its gentle sway.

Be at peace from now-henceforward

He shall guide      go with you.

He shall teach you...toil and suffer with you

When the shadows of the evening...

Come your way.

And  thus the name was  , Heather Moselle 

.To share  the pure Love of Christ.

 

 Will it be...sometime , in the dim, misty future,

Will she  be given in the Temple,    

 a new name, known only to God.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

Stage 2.            LISTEN to...THAT STILL SMALL VOICE, WHICH IS THE VOICE OF GOD

 

Can God teach .......a child to come?

To find the path that He has trod.?

 

And   is this joy .that is then filled ?.

Is not that Joy; That flows over ?

 

Can  God only entice...and  cannot ravish...?

Her will conforming freely to his.

Is their  child to be one with them.

And are both to be one with God?

 

Does God want this child united?

And yet distinct.

Does  God have a love for children?

Does He really wants to replicate himself?

 

Does God have a love for me?

.As does a father to his son?

A mother to her daughter?

 

Is  His wish to serve ...not devour. .

 

This brings to mind a song,

 from the dim memories of the past............  Carousel

 

If I loved you,

Time and again I would try to say,

All I’d want you to know.

 

If I loved you,

Words wouldn’t come in an easy way

Round in circles I’d go

 

Longing to tell you, but afraid and shy.

I’ve let my Golden chances pass me by.

 

Soon you’d leave me

Off you would go in the midst of day

Never, never to know


How I  loved  you,

If I loved you.

 

 

 

Prayer......this holy Craft......to guide my Lord?.

This is the way to find his help   ...and lo....

Come  see...and teach me, Lord,

Come with me...for us together.... go.

 

The  craft... learning as it did dip?...

 There trial spins......these ships were dear.

Prayer serving........ giving ...an  apprenticeship

Yet...to fly over...... which we lie in fear.

 

Is it from the dust of time given now to own.?

Is it a strength that seems a oneness to be.

Is it a strength that’s far above her own.

This power can come .

 

Hope expressed a desire.... we cannot shirk?.

Is this to see ....that.....the Lord has given .

Is this the oneness with God to share....

A fabulous world that God would hold.

 

Like a dream that I can see..

 

Can you open the windows of your heart?.......

Can you imagine that God gave to me?

Giving  that same Song?

  

Singing in the window of your dreams?

 

Is prayer but a path that’s given ?

A small path that leads to a greater light?

This path called faith?

And are we but measuring the flow of time

 

There the unchanged  signs we see?

And carried there? 

 

 

 


 

picture a 5 year old child sitting

under a huge cottonwood tree.

There was a Sunday School Teacher,

named Bateman, or was it Barlow? 

 

And he had been a bodyguard

of President John Taylor.

 

He looked directly at me and said ...

President Taylor had made a  promise...bold

that I would see the face of Christ

before I died...and he was 90 years old.

 

What can I be?  I am not God.

Your countenance upon my face?

The golden glow of passion...

And can it be upon your grace?

 

My feet are not your feet..

Your footsteps they can’t fill or be..

These can I then but follow.

Can these my feet be given thee.

 

Job 19: 26., 27.

And though after my skin worms destroy this body,      

Yet in my flesh shall I see God.

Whom I shall see for myself, and mine eyes shall behold,

and not another.

 

Is there such a thing as spiritual death?

And the thought...... came to me....

Will I see the face of  Christ?

 Tell me , Lord what I would know?

 

If there is...is  a death..... of Spirit?

Must that Spirit.....be.... again reborn?

 

A subtle  change.... again..... redirected?

Is this the real task....the mission tested?

 

For I knew that ......... Spirit fled..

 


.

 Christ was not in our home. 

Our family was apostate.

 If “Charity” was dead.

 

If the Spirit is anything less?

Is the spirit wounded

Is it cast aside as worthless.?

 

A sea of clouds below eternity lies.

Is Lucifer but a  figure in my  imagination?

Are these clouds helping that  suspicion

 

And denying his  existence.

 

Not believing in the Hell.

Of  dissension and disappointment?

 Work hard on the dissension

Is that of certainty coming?.

 

Is benevolence given.... 

To those we   don’t understand.?

Charity  is then...... imaginary?.

 

Does the malice  become real?

Was it spread beneath me.

An immense black pitfall

 

Its eight sinuous arms.

Fashioned in thin wisps

Were they morbid tendrils of blindness

 

It  came upon me unawares?

Like a thief of night.

Islets of barred teeth, sudden eddies,

Swift tidal surges.

 

The living tumult below it resigned.

The unknowable and the known between

Is the agency of man assigned.?

 

 

 


 

 

Is there really a Father in Heaven?

Are you really there?

And can you see?

A children’s prayer ?

 

Can I really be me?

 

 I tell you about the times we went swimming

 little Cottonwood creek

near the home of a boy

 

He was 13 years older than I..

I think his name was Hinckley.

But the words  of the Lord were  not

 told to me.........that day.

.

Can  the winds of sin can come back again.?

Can the desert sands creep in.?

Can  the valley of shadows  come upon us.?

Can we can hunger and thirst and not be filled.?

Without seeing the face of God

In the face of a friend.?

With failing to honor so

The touch of God in those who love us?.

 

A sea of clouds below eternity lies>

Is malice now becoming real?

Spread beneath like a  black pit.

 

Its sinuous arms...fashioned.

Fashioned in thin wisps

Morbid tendrils of blindness?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

I heard great arguments that began.

 when I was   young....derision    .. 

Heber J. Grant was said to be the great Satan,

 and Antoine W. Ivens his inquisition.

 

Is respect  such a miraculous thing?

My brother....God....and King.

But isn’t this a simple thing.?

Is it a gentle spirit....Only God can bring?.

 

This simple thing we all expect?.

 

And my Father was excommunicated

from the church.

 But was I?

Could there be a change ......in me??

 

Can you imagine a little boy lying there?

and his drunken father came...and  in bed

because he had been kicked out of his own ? 

 

Tell me what I see?      

I see the hand upon the wall..

That having writ moves on.

I see The Words of God

Inscribed thereon.

 

Oh do not cry and do not weep

Oh, do not say in sleep

How great I am to turn the Cheek

And go the extra mile.

 

For its not true, it is not fact

The mountain is not moved

When I confess in indignation

What others have in imperfection

 

Is not the spirit here bereft?

Is this the cheek I’ve spoken?

To turn and love and here embrace

I’m glad you’ve come to this here place            

 


Stage 3.                 BE STILL..and KNOW THAT I AM GOD.

My mother and I   took......     

 Took a walk ....and held it.

 And there she held me to the bars

of that little temple,

 

In Memory Park.

 

and through the bars on the door,

together, we read the Words of Miller. 

The words  obscured.

 

We could not see the poem in it’s entirety,

 

but this I remember.

“ And there shall come a day....in spring

When death and winter 

Loose their chill white hold....quite suddenly

 

And earth her gentle bosoms bare

That new thirsty  life may nurture there.

 

When daffodils and Lilacs bloom

And winging birds return 

 

On such a day I shall return to you

Not dead...not even gone

And we shall talk of every lovely thing

 

When I return....in spring.”

 

 

Now picture in your mind

a little 8 year old child standing

Standing on a street corner

with several other 8 year old

discussing the latest scandal.

 

A baby had been found at the local dump. 

And the baby was dead. 

That night my mother was killed  

And I remembered the day.

 


 

 Can you imagine  this little boy

whose  eyes were dry...

His grief ... beyond tears,

He  could not cry

 

as his mother’s casket was lowered

gently into the ground.

 

(Anne  Murray song)

Somebody stands there with tears in their eyes.

It’s the same old scene

Time after time.

Someone’s always saying goodbye.

 

Someone’s leaving

And someone’s always staying behind.

 

I don’t know how things got that way

That’s the way love is...it seems

-------Tape 1___

Someone’s always saying goodbye.

 

 They came to live with us,

and Dad bought a piano for Berdean. 

Helen, my oldest sister hated

my Dad for this,

 

 forgetting that she could play

 the piano anytime

 

Berdean told me later that she thought

it would be a boon to Society

if a truck would run over me. 

She meant it as a complement

 

Norma was the wild one

and would go skinny dipping

in a canal which was nearby. 

She ran off to Los Vegas,

 

There to become a shill.

 


 

I was fascinated by the story’s

Clynn told me. 

He bought an old E-flat Soprano Sax

for me

 

and while he was replacing the pads

he told me of his experiences in China.

 

He was in the navy

and had been assigned

as the engineer on the Gunboat, Panay.

 

 This ship sailed up the Yangste River

during the Chinese rebellion of Changkiashek. 

He had married a Chinese girl,

and then had deserted her..

.

knowing that she would be killed

after he left.

  There was a movie called “Sand Pebbles”

which depicted this story.

 

Would it be hard to believe

that my brother Jessie,

and my sisters Helen and Eleanor

hated my father.

 

 I did not,

for I got to know him

as a brilliant foreman, and Superintendent

of The Chytraus Construction Company.

 I was an apprentice Carpenter.

 

This was in the early days

of World War ll, and

I was working at Hill Field in December.

 

  When I set a saw down,

I could see the frost form on the blade. 

My fingers would stick to the metal

of my hammer because of the cold.

 


There must be a better way

 to make a living than this , I said. 

And so I went to BYU

to become a teacher.

 

They lead an easy life, I thought,

and so I came in out of the cold.

 

My Father and Stepmother, Eunice

Had a violent argument

in the middle of the night, and

my father was waving a gun around

threatening to kill us all.

 

He was drunk,

so it was easy to distract him, and

I took his gun away and buried it.

 

Can you imagine walking

in the middle of the winter

the 30 miles to BYU,

in the dark and cold.

 

 

 

(Anne Murray Song)

There’ll be shadows in the moonlight

I will meet you after midnight

Hand in hand we’ll go

Dancing through the milky way.

 

You’ll be glad you came

Just you wait and see.

_____Tape 2___Shadows in the moonlight

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

Did my God try to tell me

Tell  this young man

that when he went to BYU

that then the shadows come?

 

This young kid was given a patriarchal blessing...

in which he was told to listen....

Listen to that still small voice. 

Which is the voice of God.

 

Was he told he would have great treasures

of knowledge, even hidden treasures. 

Was he told he could run and not be weary,

that he could walk and not faint?

 

Is the thing God cannot do?

He cannot ravish...only entice.

 

My will conforming freely to his?

Then I too may be at one with him.

If ...only I could change.

 

Was this shadow      in pursuit of his thoughts?.

“There is a law, Irrevocably decreed  in Heaven

Upon which all blessings are predicated,

And it is by obedience to this law

That all blessings are given.

 

And then can I see the shadow change ?

And change direction?.

Direct my steps toward the light? 

 

Can I accept the enticement

of the Savior when he said,

“Cast your burden upon the Lord

 

 For is His burden  easy, is his burden  light?. 

And is not this burden

simply , “Strengthen thy brother”?

 

 

 


 

I knew all about laws;, for example.

...I placed a bullet in a vice

 when I was young

 and hit it with a hammer.

 

 That casing did follow the law

 that said,

for every action there is

an equal and opposite reaction

 

and it did ricochet like a flight of hornets ....

I learned to hide.

 

Then there was the time

when I was about 14

when I came down with the mumps.

 

 My brother Jessie was assigned

to stay home and keep the fire going. 

He did not, and

we had a terrible fight.

 

I broke a chair over his head. 

The mumps “went down”, and

I was informed that

I would never have posterity..

 

There again I learned to hide.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

Stage 4.                     A PROPHET OF GOD

 

And then one day I went

to a convocation

in the Smith Building at BYU.

 

The featured speaker was Ezra Taft Benson.

Was he a future apostle... this in l942-43...?.

 

If we are all Gods children?

Is it not possible that some of us

Could become nearer to God ?

 

GOD’S image on HIS face??

 

The talk was given by one to be chosen.  

He was talking.....as an apostle?

 

Was the fall of Adam and

the necessity of partaking

of the fruit

 

Was it of the tree of knowledge.

 Was it of good and evil?

 

 Is Evolution but  a passing change?

 

Yet, after he talked,

a group of professors got up

and ridiculed his speech.

 

Hate.....the weeping and wailing and

gnashing of teeth....

.Its three long tentacles

 Cocked  tightly, and it was threatening.

 

The tentacles spring forward

In the frenzy of the kill.

 

 

 

 


 

Like tooth studded whips

The creature reviled its prey.

 

What I did hear was this.....

a series of professors who claimed

the right 

 

And who derided him unmercifully.

 

They were as the body of Cain,

And said, “Am I my brothers keeper?”

And passed unseen and unknowing

A body nourished by unseen and unknowing things.

 

And never changed.

 

Job: 2.9. 

Then said his wife unto him,

Dost thou still retain

thine integrity?

 

And with these words

 is Christ not crucified. 

And the words not spoken...

Curse God and die.?

 

These teachers were as Cain... mocked God ..

and they left  a  God that was dead..

 

A word is said....a knife cutting thee.

Life.....a part of which is taken.

Reclaimed....it can never be.

Again that I can never see.

 

To destroy a child....to smite a man.

A part of life that then is taken.

Never is reclaimed.

 

 

 

 

 


 

Is it not so the spirit slain

Is ours alone whenever we maim

Or hurt and make afraid.

 

Is this not all that’s done?

This power before the one

The power then that Cain  has done.

 

This is... not.... the holy one?.

 

Is Lucifer an empty Vulture?

Tearing  other spirits to himself?

As a Hyena  will take his food?

Taken after the kill.

 

Is this the spirit that I see?

Not ever changed..

Then left as debris?

 

What comes from those who scorn?     

And those who mock and raise a storm

And those who look there for a thorn

When Christ’s tender love is shown.

 

                                    If charity hides in the face of the foe.

If charity faileth to honor so

Hiding its light neath a bushel to smother

The spirit of Christ that lifts up another.

 

:                                   Can any spirit be more precious than faith?

Do the Hosts of heaven there revere,

The Spirit of Charity...that’s carried here?

The pure love of  Christ.

Didn’t God  tell me: Job 2: 9

.” Then said his wife unto him

Dost thou still retain thine integrity”

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

Maxwell said in conference:

     Extortions given to Lamen and Lemuel

“were hard to be understood,

save a man should inquire

 

of the Lord;

 

and they being hard in their hearts,

As was Cain?

 therefore they did not look

unto the Lord as they aught”

 

Is this not the evolution of the soul.....

That some men may.... become... close to God,

and must evolve..... becoming changed ?

To get there then by stages?

 

In this context, God is.....

Much more distant.....A mighty change?

 

(1 Nephi.  15:3)

Nevertheless, I was ashamed..

.for if they felt that God was dead..

.what did it matter?

 

“This failure to believe

 in a revealing God

was especially   basic.

 

Some moderns who wish

to distance themselves

from God..... try

placing His pavilion firmly in the past.

 

By believing in such

a disabled God,

people can do

pretty much as they please.

 

 

 

 


 

 It is not many steps

further to saying

there is no God,

 

 And is without sin,

for there is no law.

therefore no Law and  

 no sin!  (2 Nephi 2:13).”          

 

And I see the child

A child God’s given

Is it possible that man’s rejected?

One will never find?

And will pass him by?

 

Is it possible that those

Who are looking for a Saint

Will never wonder why?

 

In reaching the impossible

We sigh....and draw away

From the sky

From one who is nigh?

 

 

Anne Murray Song)

Rain in the sky, a tear in my eye...

The long nights begun...with pitiful one

You said you’d never go.

 

Blessed are the believers

They shall inherit a heartache

Believing in you...man   that was my greatest heartbreak.

 

Blessed are all the left behind

For their hearts shall one day bend

When Love in those same sweet eyes

Make us believers again.

_____Tape 3____Blessed are the believers.

 

 

 


 

Stage 5.             The King is dead  A NEW GOD.........THE GOD OF FEAR

 

Can you imagine being

on a train leaving

from Provo

with no one to see me off,

 

without hope,

leaving with  the God of fear

 

and going to Basic training in

Battle Creek Michigan.

 

If it.....desire.....is a spirit ?

Is hope a spirit too?

Is a spirit there before

Before it wasn’t

 

I had to crawl

through fields of mud and

barbed wire with live

bullets screaming overhead.

 

Over slimy fungi, and fern covered logs.

Restricted   much of the way.

Climbing or skirting through brush.

 

I falling back on a subtle misdirection.

 

 

The malicious rotting dirt  was weird.

Becoming a nuisance and a hindrance

Reflecting the malice in my own soul?

The ruts littered with spiders and twigs.

 

Directing this malice

To those we love and are close to.

The malice becomes totally real.

Not understanding their faith.

 

And explaining  the existence of meanness

 


Sergeants are figures in my imagination

Not understanding their faith?

And straining their integrity?

He therefore totally believed in Hell..

 

 

I think of those before.

What could they do?

Is there ever a change?

 

 

 

I was to remember the serpent in the garden.

It lay in wait for me...a shard.

It would transform me.......

 

And ever watching over me

Watching ever with a light.

Keepers beneath the stars.

 

I was told to throw

a live hand grenade

over an embankment. 

I could not,

 

and the live grenade

rolled back to me.

 My companions and I ducked

for cover just as it blew.

 

I had failed, and scraped the glasses  from my face.

Inconsolable, blaming all but myself.

Never having that ghastly sight?

That stabbing searing glare.

The background of pain in my life.

 

I must fall back on a subtle misdirection

To turn.. Turning their gaze from me .

Trying to manufacture feelings

Producing charitable feelings toward myself..

 

 

 


We would march

50 miles a day with backpacks,

and many of us collapsed

With  exhaustion.

 

I stood at attention with

a rifle by my side until

I dropped,

 

It made very little difference

The worldly end is now pursued.

Having made the world an end

And faith a means.

 

During the present phase of the great conflict.

The darkest cover of the night

The darkness inside me.

And I can know that hate and fear

Do now prevail and be.

 

Did we miss the sunrise,

 My Lord and I?

Did it hide behind a hill

 When we were looking away?

Oh, Lord did you miss it?

 Did we both miss the rich blessings too?

 

God...will you give to me

That’s out of reach, and far above.

From out of Holiness...your own.

God....can I reach out and touch

 

In place of my own

A fragment ......a fragment of hope

My faith is now....all tattered and torn.

 

Can I overcome that hate and fear?

That now I know.

Is it possible that in reaching for the sky

We draw away

From one who is nigh?

 

 


 

Is it not true that a prayer

That’s never been sent

Cannot be answered?

 

Is it not true that those without desire

Have I never prayed?

Is prayer a recitation of God’s virtues?

I think not.

 

If hope is  given and now held dear?

Is shared to me that spirit.

 

Under the light, little by little

God has  chartered a fairyland.

A fairyland the world becomes

Like so many buoys and beacons

 

As tenderness escorted a fervor,

A sleeping camp, I standing guard.

A sentinel....I seemed to be.

 

Do we need another

And not bind it with prayer?

Can we find atonement

If no one is there?

 

Is there a blessing missed

What was it I was missing?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

. They gave me an aptitude test

and sent me

to Ohio State University

 

in the ASTP program. 

While we were waiting

for their attempt to make

of me an Engineer,

 

we went through

Basic Training again.

 

Then the ASTP program,

and the adjacent Navy program

at Ohio State was abandoned.

 

We  were given the opportunity

to go to Medical or Dental School

If we passed the aptitude test. 

I was in the top 1%

of the whole class

 

of 20,000 students, but

I spurned dental school and

failed to get in Medical school.

 

We  were sent to

the 102 Infantry Division where

we  were sent through Basic Training again.

 

Several of my comrade

 committed suicide..... because

they were afraid of being killed.

The void unknown

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


One day,

I left my glasses on my bunk and

went to take a shower. 

I swept the cockroaches off

 

The sink, shaved, brushed my teeth and

showered. 

When I came out I saw

someone come through the door.

 

I walked past him, but

he followed me to my bunk.

 “What do you say when

an officer comes in the room.”

 

I put on my glasses, and

looked at him and said,

”ATTENTION, sir.”

 

He took my name, rank and serial number , and

soon I was taking an

eye exam. Needless to say,

 

I am legally blind.

 

My failure again

led to my being kicked out

of the 102nd Infantry division,

 

which probably saved my life.

 

Was not my mother and  

Heather there with me,

for Heather never would be

born to my family

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


What can be said when love is gone?

 

When Hope and faith have walked away.

When Charity did die.

 

What can be said of tears unshed?

And pride has lifted her pretty head?

In Scorn?                                

 

Can it be explained that I have slept?

A sleep of dreams unspoken?

Can I lift my head ....to Heaven..and love?

 

What a terrible void when Love escapes

The love of Christ not felt.

Can this be worse....My love for Christ is lost?

Can life go on?

 

Did we miss the Sunset My Lord and I?

Did it hide behind a hill....

When we were looking away?

Oh Lord, did you miss it?

Did we both miss the rich blessings too?

 

(Anne Murray Song)

Like a candle burning bright

Love is flowing in your eyes.

A flame to light our way.

That burns brighter every day

Now I have you.

Nobody loves me like you do.

 

Like a leaf upon the wind

I could find no place to light

I dreamed the elms away

Wandered everywhere...do dreams come true?

 

Nobody loves me like you do.

What if I’d never met you

Where would I be right now?

Funny how life just falls in place somehow.

_____Tape 4______Nobody loves me.

 


I was sent to

the 508 Military Police Battalion in

Leesberg Louisiana.

  There I had to undergo

another Basic Training.

 

Do what you will

Is there  going to be some peace?

In your enemy’s Soul

Impossible to hide.

There is also some malice in my own Soul.

.

Going through another Basic

 Training was hazardous to my health, 

I volunteered for the Medical Unit. 

Oh, I still went on hikes, 

now I was treating the fallen Soldiers

for heat exhaustion.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


Stage 6.            MY GUIDE IS THEN MY  GOD?  IS HEATHER THERE?

 

I remembered again the  poem  from Hiawatha

 

And the spirit stooping earthward

With his finger on the water

Traced a winding pathway for it

Saying...come this way.

With his hand he broke a fragment,

Molded it along the way.

Shaped and fashioned it

Like a child at play?

Painted he the sky of morning.

Splashing rainbow flowers on the way.

Filled the earth with birds all singing.

At such a lovely spring.

Be at peace from now–henceforward

He shall guide and go with you.

He shall teach you...toil and suffer with you.       When the shadows of the evening

Come your way. way.

 

___________________________________________

 

 

 

 

All of the photographs that

I show you have a story to tell

 

Enthronged were there the troops.

Radio Signals walking in the desert.

Farewells would alter yet the platforms.

 

Attentive faces and frank eyes.

These honorable peasants,

These people had no treachery

Kind people looked into the eyes.

 

There seemed nothing to fear.

Faces blank  and smooth set jaws.

Blank as if vaguely bored.

Were they the Gestapo?

 


A blankness that was rather terrible

Their minds had established a difference.

A Serb was dancing his dance of death

His race was chosen?  Chosen by God as Israel?

 

Before the unavailing indifference...

What difference of these “Judges”.

Had they been chosen in their minds?

 

Mankind?.....I cannot understand.

I am afraid...this now denied?

Should I be scolded for lack of faith?

Of Faith not felt this day?

 

This self-defeating fear that’s in my way?

 

Again there fell that silence

The grass ran over the ripple of the wind.

The viability of nothing.

What had never been changed.

 

Unchanged were we ourselves.

Nevertheless, in front of that shack

Someone had died.

The weapons of hate had been defined.

 

 

What had been going on they were asked?

Simply a squad of SS Soldiers   (Like an American MP)

Killing a Serb one said.

No different from a Jew.

 

Simply excruciating in its reasonableness.

 

Not a note of song ...not a shout

Muted voices in the night.

And they were going....

To be killed.

 

Mud stiffened their clothes..

They heaved and sweated. at their work

In a whisper spoke and  came the. Word..

Whisper?  Why did they whisper?


A hospital is much more open?

But of course...that was it.

Not a way...a war never is a way.

A disease it has become.

 

Haphazardly, men gathered together.

Chaos filed into the ruins.

Infection against which blindly struggled

A new plague.

 

Who ever belongs feels surrounded.

Surrounded by secretly infected men.

Were to choose between Serbians

And its enemy...Muslim?

 

And there lay the dead...Serbs.

 

The faces displayed of human events.

A face of indifference

a Face of pathetic drama.  Everything changes.

 

 

 

 

The day is suddenly upon me.

 

 

Is this the day that I must conquer

Is it not that mountain

That I must vanquish?

 

Must it always remain..

A mighty fortress?

Unconquered in the past.

Yet .....still, it is there.

 

I awoke with birds still singing..

The shadows gently pushed away.

But; Lord..the path that I must follow

Is steep...the cliffs and rocks.

 

Before my eyes as though

The clouds I see...me...falling.


Because my weaknesses are great

And I grow weary of the battle.

 

Without you....I know....I cannot go.

This day to face the foe....the foe of doubt.

That comes upon me.

You’ve said that Joy will come this day.

My sleeping mind cannot perceive it.

 

Yet, I must go...for this I must.

Or life will pass me by.

Oh Lord, will you help me?

Help me conquer that mountain?

 

I see shadows in the moonlight.

I see rainbows on a cloudy day.

Dreams that come

Then fly away?

 

Is faith but a dream...that drifted by?

That hope can follow.

Then I looked into the sky

For me to see.

Must a dream be great to be?

 

 

 

 Duran, The queen city of the Ruhr

Rearing...like great black waterspouts

Temple pillars seeming in immobility?

Were there?

Were there supporting

Swelling at their tops.

 

The tempest a squat and lowering arch.

 

Slabs of light there fell

Their radiance...a spell

As the fullness of the moon at bay.

The sea of broken tiles disgorge.

 

Through these uninhabited pillars.

From channels of light too soon.


Sliding slantwise...That giant ruin.

Through this I made my way.

 

Here rumbled the upsurges

In which there must be.  Corridors

Toward the exit of the sanctuary.

So overwhelming was this pageantry.

 

Into quicksand sinks the life of man.

Their dreary diurnal tasks.

Were taken up again.

I in the midst of these men.

 

The morning yet at daybreak.

 

The trench crept out into the trees.

The parapet lay flat and scared.

The night had covered all the black horrors.

The shells with windows ..ruins.

 

Its towers with windows like portholes

Now looks like a ship; at sea.

Emigrants leaving the city

Ferried them from one shore

To the other of life....not changed?

 

 

 

 

Through the streets it slowly evaporates.

 

Men, women, and children fell

Resigned, or quaking with fear.

Living only for the moment...to come.

A torpedoed vessel loaded with humanity.

 

Motives or justification I do not care.

A curse that came that night.

I had witnessed a bombardment

In order to uproot a human life.

 

Rubbish that was brushed away .

 


As each one scattered...they ran.

Chased by the light smoke

And cleared away the debris.

 

Oh God, will you take this cup from me?

 

A fearsome heath, as in a lonely cottage.

The border it seems to us have crossed.

To return infinitely difficult.

It would be tossed.

 

Duran...A city where I did come.

There in the great domain was...Babylon.

Here other men had killed.

 

Here a most astonishing scene.

The sight of conflagration

Ruins and signs of mans distress.

 

Duran was no different than Aachen

The scars on that church gleaming in the sun.

Just as in Bonn and Rheinbach.

There that prison.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Gone was the pale smoke.

It melted in the blue.

Of the sky its altered  screams

Its gilding carried off and gone.

 

Its sacerdotal treasures.

Its prayer books altered...and in flames.

On the surface a statue.

The human drama now played out

 

Played out in the visible world.

The prayers.  But in the hearts of men.

 


Swallowed us up as night came slipping down.

The clouds of doubt then slipping .

Then it seems....a kingdom.

 

Are we to live throughout our days?

In cursing God and nature?

 

There is a time when fight we must.

And drive the strangers from the temple.

The Saints did something more.

Than look away from evil.

 

And there a city where I did come.

Babylon therein...

In the great domain.

One another men had killed

 

Here was most astonishing

The sight of conflagration.

Is there this doubt that tears the clouds?

 

 

The fear we have with us......you feel it too?

Of course you must?

For it is there...before us?

 

 

 

 

 

 

Then let us go together...just you and I.

We must.

If we don’t conquer this day

Then we will...tomorrow.

 

We pressed on again into the wind.

Cautiously, listening for danger...sniffing our way/

Listening for anything that might bring hope.

 

Then God...for themselves all one...

Passed a small miracle.

Below them, all the rest was hidden.


In luminous impenetrable gray.

 

That fearsome approach

Wound its way past blasted craters.

Passed Islets of pain and swift tidal surges.

Passed bared teeth and sudden eddies.

 

And God wound through the path

1.                  Threaded he the needle

Turning and twisting through the ruins..

.

And drifted out smooth and serene.

Into the broad valley.

He knew the hazards as he knew the scars on his hand.

 

And when we work together

My Lord and I

IT seems as play.

The whole long day.

 

Maybe we didn’t accomplish much

And maybe we limped into the fray.

And darned if we didn’t go in circles?

When we tried to get out of the way.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And maybe we slipped and fell behind

And that darned rock had made up its mind.

To stay....in our way.

 

.

Behold, I had remembered.

 

Now, as my mind caught hold upon this thought.

My heart cried out.

 

The gleam of moonlight suddenly seen.


A crevice of fog at the bottom.

Clouds filled the sky overhead.

Between cloud and fog.

 

The course was set.

.                       In murmurs and whispers

Talking to another.

Their talk painted the walls.

Of the dismal prison.

The face of destiny in a vision.                          

Suddenly, I saw the dragon face to face

Looking in the eyes of hell.

 

 

And then as heaven smiled,

I saw that Spirit  stare.

Is this an angel, sent from him on high?

Is this the spirit which I must seek?

 

How could a child so dim

Hold fast the Iron rod.

How could a child of Cain,

Walk with God

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

Stage 7.            BORN AGAIN?

 

When oft I walked..

I wondered why?

I came with treasures from the sky.

 

And so one day,

a few of my friends and I

went to a German church near

the City of Bonn.

 

I do not remember what

the speaker said,

but he was that same man that

I heard at that convocation

at BYU so many years ago.

 

What I do remember,

is that he came down from

the podium quickly, and

 

came to us 4 GI’s. 

He put his arm around me....

turned his face to

the other three and said,

 

”There shall come a day

when every knee shall bend and

every tongue confess that

Jesus is the Christ.”...........

 

.

A mighty change is all that’s asked.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

God stood beneath and I alone.

My weight of sorrow on his face.

And yet the force of hell..

Was then erased.

 

When one is standing underneath

Is this the heaven I would seek?

For there he stood...

Reached an uplifting hand.

 

And though beneath, I was above.

Is this the heaven I was to find?

For I was lifted up to heaven

I needed him....he needed me...

 

And he was sent by heaven...

Not confused by useless hell.

 

Was there one who helped you to escape?

Someone grasping

While there was still time?

 

What did you tell me?                          

It seems to me you have awakened

The numbed senses been regained

And all you did was smile

 

What can be said of tears unshed?

And pride has lifted her pretty head.

In scorn.

 

I have seen the face

Of that indifferent world.

The face of righteousness?

 

That critics and imposters own.

 

And I have blinked...cannot atone

The Holy writ...to be thou perfect..

Is not my own.

Behold...an imperfect world?

 


 

Can it be explained that I have slept?

A sleep of dreams unspoken?

Can I lift my head to heaven?....and love?

 

For I have found the Thorn

When Christ’s tender love was shown.

And I have slept a dreamless sleep

 

Who was it mocked and raised a storm?

The mountain of God not wanted?

Is it I, was it I, will it be me?

 

And yet your smile was all that’s needed

To kindle there the fire..

And sweep away the ashes...and now

Can life go on?

 

 

Ten years later,

I met this same man. 

 

My brother, Donald

was going on a mission, and

I accompanied him .

 

The church office building where

he was to be interviewed by

a general Authority.  there.

 

Did he remember the incident. 

Did he even remember.

.

Eldon. .............. November 17, 1999

Not by might and power

Not by inner strength

And not by great desire

Only by a spirit...not my own.

 

 

 

 

 


 

Did  God walk with me

Did he hold my hand when I was weary.

His faith was given when I faltered?.

Did he come to me?.

 

Is.......  Fear...an unseen chasm?

Is it not there to make  afraid?

Can I slink away...and die.

 

Can I confront a world in which I .... see.

The black dragons and the crowned crests.

Crests of a  coma of blue lightnings.....Invest.

 

Among the stars

I shall read my course.

 

And if I say

When shadows fall

And evening comes.

Why hast thou forsaken me?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

Stage 8             YOU NEEDED ME...I NEEDED YOU.

 

The sea confounded when fog and sand

Undistinguished they became stew,

Confounded in a brew.

 

So then I needed  you...my father

And overcoming fear needs be.

Is a door opened here for me.

 

An unshut window gives me light.

Can mountains move and stay in sight?

In front of me?.

 

Ahead low on the horizon and suddenly

Unveiled in a brilliant point.

Through me a wave of joy went.

A beacon....could it not be sent?

 

For a space the light did twinkle

And then went out. 

Had it ever been?

Only for a while was that star seen.

 

The horizon keeping up...a bog.

And setting   clouds..

Between the layers of that  fog.

 

The gloom then taken up by other stars.

Hope a dogged sort of dream.

To turn...for each....a lingering light.

 

And...... change our star...each time.

Reproach reached where it then......

Had no right.

 

Black vapors filled the skies

These skyways swamps....treacherous.

When gleaming flashes wheel.

And purge himself with steel.                

 

 


And maybe we didn’t travel far.

Cause it was uphill most of the way

And maybe...

Tomorrow things will go...our way.

 

Nevertheless when evening came.

I had to say...I loved this day.

Oh Lord....thanks for coming to stay.

Lets do it again...the very same way.

 

There’s something beyond my comprehension

My sleeping mind cannot perceive?

Is it the morning that is time for Joy?

When it is mine..at the end of day?

 

A single long file

Stretching like a snake closing in to strike.

The dark lip of the mountain so far above them.

Their only goal the sky itself.

 

Up the rocky track they wandered.

Through scrub and trees.

Passed overhanging rocks and stony corners.

Onward and upward.

 

The light was growing....still misty...always mysterious

But firmly established.

Presently it brought a cold sunrise.

That hardest moment for courage.

In all   the world of fear

 

And the mist melted.

 

Can a person be lonely in Heaven?

Is there sorrow in Heaven Too?

Can we long for another?

Can we cry in the stars?

 

If a loved one is missing in Heaven.

If a child has forgotten the way

Can we reach out for her

Can we cry in the night?

 


 

If faith is not and hope has strayed

What is left when dreams have faded in the mist beyond?

Can we never repent, and never find

Or be at one with someone who’s kind?

 

Nothing in the world has man possessed.

Shared...yes.  Invisible riches.

But their memories are recessed..

 

And look at one another.

And kept apart

As life may scatter.... then depart

 

Somewhere we know is our comrade.

It comes to us now...bit by bit.  and then

The laughter of a friend                                                

We shall never hear again.

 

Against us this one garden that is locked.

That companion can never be replaced.

 

Now it comes to us bit by bit

The seed we plant   as life grows on.

Years that claim the blight.

 

Sparse and thin....then become

Rich we have then now  become.??

 

Can we plant an acorn in the morning

And expect to sit in the shade?

 

 

  Who are you to ask for rain

And then complain

When first the drops did fall.

 

Who are you to call for pain

And then complain

When first the Sorrows fall.

 

Who are you to ask for God

And then complain


When he first dimly seen.

 

Who are you to ask for peace

And then complain

At site of Heavens fall.

 

The courts on high

Have heard your cry

They’ve not rejected you.

 

Who took away the life.....of Christ

And this the purpose given

His love for you.                                                                                                                       _____________________________________________________________________________

 

 

(Anne Murray Song.)

I cried a tear, you wiped it dry.

I was confused, you cleared my mind.

I sold my soul, you bought it back for me.

And held me up and gave me dignity.

 

Somehow, you needed me.

 

You gave me   strength to stand alone again.

To face the world out on my own again.

You put me high upon a pedestal

So high that I could almost see eternity.

 

You needed me, you needed me.

 

                       And I can’t believe its you, I can’t believe its true.

I needed you and you were there.

 

You held my hand when it was cold.

When I was lost, you took me home...again.

You gave me hope when I was at the end.

And turned my life back into truth...again.

 

You even called me friend.

____Tape 5______You needed me.

 

 


 

  And did you tell me? 

Then again, maybe

I wasn’t listening.

 

I have been promised by my God ....to see

And so I looked in front of me.

There I saw a child......

This is not my God..to me?

 

And then I looked up in the heavens,

For an angel from on high.

I looked the whole long day,

Then night descended....

 

                       And the stars looked back at me

 

There is no Lord to lead,

And heaven is far away.

For faith has fled....

 

And even hope has now left me.

 

I cannot see, I cannot touch

I cannot hear the words to guide.

But then I felt a lifting up.

 

My God was under me.

 

 

 

 

These words

A blessing I give to you..

Granddaughter. Heather Moselle

the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.

 

 

November 8, 1999

Joseph Eldon Toomey

58 So.  200 West

Burley, Idaho

(208) 677 8374


 

Alma 5: 16, 17, 18, 19

Alma 5:16

I say unto you,

can you imagine to

yourselves that you hear

the voice of the Lord,

saying unto you  in that day:

Come unto me

ye blessed for

behold your works have

been the works of righteousness

upon the face of the earth:?

Alma 5: 17

Or do you imagine to

yourselves that ye can

lie unto the Lord in

that day and say----

Lord, our works have

been righteous works

upon the face of the earth—

and that he will save you?

Alma 5: 18. 

Or otherwise,

can ye imagine yourselves

brought before the tribunal

of God with your souls filled

with guilt and remorse,

having a remembrance  of

all your guilt, yea,

a perfect remembrance of all

your wickedness, yea,

a remembrance that ye have set at

defiance the commandments of God?

Alma: 5: 19.

 I say unto you,

can you look up to 

God at that day with

a pure heart and clean hands? 

I say unto you,

can you look up,

having the image of God engraved

upon your countenances?


Alma 32: 23. 

And now, he

imparteth his word

by angels unto men,

yea, not only men but women also. 

Now this is not all;

little children do have words given

them many times, which

confound the wise and the learned.

 

 

 

 

THE BEGINNING OF FAITH

 

Alma 32: 34.  And now, behold, is your knowledge perfect? :Yea, your knowledge is perfect in that thing., and your faith is dormant and this because you know that the word has swelled your souls, and ye also know that it has sprouted up, that your understanding doth begin to be enlightened, and your mind doth begin to expand.

Alma 32:18.  Now I ask, is this faith?  Behold, I say unto you, Nay; for if a man knoweth a thing he has  no cause to believe, for he knoweth.

Alma 32: And now as I said concerning faith------faith is not to have a perfect knowledge of things; therefore if you have faith ye hope for things which are not seen----------which are true.