Calming the Storm. Протоиерей Олег Штельман

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ran away to Monastery here back then,

      Throughout entire war I stayed there,

      I worked hard as if minister, and when,

      They gave me my own Monastery’s cell with care.

      Of course, I was baptized right away,

      The scriptures I would start to learn,

      I learned to cook by then in my own way,

      A censer in a temple’s kindle I would burn.

      Carpenter’s work I did and sow the clothes,

      Chopping the wood without being proud,

      A little joke at times without being nosey,

      Some use in everything in life somehow I always found.

      The war has ended, then it went for once,

      I fell in love with girl I came to know,

      By tasting sufferings and sweet of thirst romance,

      I took her as my destiny to love.

      The children have grown long time ago,

      And through the world they have walked away;

      And drinking wine of life to end, my love,

      She went away to God, to Light, in her own day.

      A Monastery-pier is calling me once more,

      To come here every time and then it feels so true,

      Now I shall leave, – memories will open every door,

      So I shall end my destiny’s telling here for you.

      The tears have covered the shapes of churches tops,

      And then I thought that maybe it is he,

      In Heaven’s temple made of apse,

      Along with Rabbi give a stare at me.

      I know for sure – there in Lord’s Home,

      He and the Rabbi met again.

      Listing through pages of my memory alone,

      Of all the earthly days I think.

      They thank the Master of this world,

      For giving light through their way,

      A lyre of God the hearts have touched;

      Enlightened with the truth each day.

      Remember them in our prayer,

      As they will pray for our names,

      For standing through each battle’s layer,

      For all beloved and for every hour that came.

      Our Heavenly Father, in a light so full of wonder,

      The souls of rebels, give them peace,

      And show to all that through the Earth still wander,

      A perfect craft of divine, I ask Thee please.

November 2016.

      Eternal Spring

      The Spring, it caresses with light,

      And then the blood so young,

      Shy with a bouquet kept so tight,

      It meets the love so strong.

      Along with singing of Spring birds,

      The gardens in full bloom,

      The priceless whisper and the thoughts,

      The gifts of moment’s loom.

      Towards the summer leaving,

      Into the meadows wealthy cling,

      All dressed in shades of greenest,

      As nightingales will sing.

      It strengthens, it grows, and it bestows,

      It feeds and shares the gifts it has,

      It comforts and enchants with love,

      And towards Autumn lays its path.

      In beauty transcendental,

      A gold will scattered fly,

      With widow’s tear not mending,

      At times it sometimes cries.

      As gracious as pavé,

      Like parade it will flow,

      With cheers and shouting “Bravo!”,

      With star, it will then fall.

      A nature in quiet hover,

      With emptiness of trees,

      With snowflakes it will cover,

      With blizzard suddenly sings:

      That snow is melting soon,

      Earth wakes as droplets ring,

      Creator rules the world —

      Where there’s eternal Spring.

      The songs, ballads

      Taming The Storm

      The shores are fading in the distance,

      A boat serves them well and obeying

      It floats towards blue all so blissful

      A middle of the East it is being.

      The speech of Apostles as they sail the sea,

      Are quietly murmuring like brooks in a fold

      They marvel at miracles that they all see

      At all of the glorious acts of the Lord.

      The world of the sea comes alive all around,

      And God, the Messiah, it meets

      And cries of the birds in the skies make a sound:

      “Hosanna, our Lord, and the Christ!”

      The waves are like hands of a Virgin, the Mary,

      So lightly that small boat drove,

      And sun is like mother that kisses the baby,

      So gently it caresses Christ, our Lord.

      He sleeps ahead of boat at top,

      Head bowed at the stern,

      As in the sleigh, the Lord, our God,

      So humble lies just like poor kern.

      Suddenly a wind has been picking,

      Chasing the wave after wave,

      The bottomless waters awaking,

      With natural strength misbehave.

      The sky so harshly has frowned

      As lightnings are flashing from eyes

      A terrible word came like thunder

      My mandate – get Him crucified!

      And waters from the deepest kyle,

      Has spattered the boat with saliva.

      And waves like the armies of vile,

      Was ready to swallow alive.

      “Oh, Lord, save us, from dying!

      The boat is in deathly cadence” —

      Apostles in fear are crying,

      As depth in its roar triumphs.

      King – Pilot rebelled from His sleep:

      – “Where is your faith simple as rule?”

      That fear you the waves wild and

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