HOME PAGE BIOGRAPHY LINKS POEMS CONTACT US ITINERARY PRODUCTS
TRIBUTARY MUSIC
Click HERE to view more
SONGS OF A BURNING HEART (Book + CD)
"I am convinced that 'Songs Of A Burning Heart' will be a significant voice calling forth the arts to be restored to the House of the Lord where they belong." -- Mike Bickle, Director, International House of Prayer, Kansas City.
'Songs of a Burning Heart' is a unique book of poetry, art and music. The poems of Gary Wiens, the artwork of David Costello and the music of Ruth Fazal form this book , as well as nine chapters of meditative text, written by Gary, to help you to enter into the richness of the poetry. The poems by Gary Wiens are full of wonderful imagery, and really do burn with the heart of God! Recorded during a four day 'Coming up from the Wilderness' gathering in May 2000, Gary read, and Ruth (and sometimes other musicians) played her violin, responding spontaneously to the words. None of the music was written down or planned beforehand. It was all "as it happens".
US$ 13.00* (plus shipping US$6.00)
Click on titles to hear sample audio track
These sample tracks can only be played using RealPlayer®. Click here to download a free copy.
In the swirling, turning and eternal time before time, God alone was:
Ever joyful, lacking nothing, perfect in beauty, complete in Trinity.
Deep in His heart a vision lay quiet,
Pulsing, throbbing, a-waiting the formation of time and space,
Waiting in joyfulness, lacking nothing, perfect in beauty.
Then with awful suddenness vision exploded into thought,
And One spoke to One, “It is not good for Man to be alone”.
Then Father, Son, and Spirit All-Seeing,
God Almighty, King of Heaven, chose desire for one yet coming.
Love’s light flaming, knowing fully that Passion’s dowry would be His life,
Lamb gripped the Cross before creation’s Day,
And claimed His Prize e’er She was made.
And heart of God burst forth in joy,
And Spirit danced with Son while Father sang,
And worlds came forth, and light was made,
And Garden planted, every creature springing forth from Joy divine.
At height of passion, Father formed First Adam in the Son’s own image.
With life inbreathed, the new-made man touched Longing Heart,
And echoed lonely feelings deeply held: “Not all is good”.
So God took Helper from his side,
And with delight He called them “Bride”.
Poems © Gary Wiens 1999/2000
O, Brilliant Son, bright Radiance of the only God,
Who stands above the angels as exalted King!
Filling all of heav’n and earth with Beauty unexcelled,
With but a breath sustaining all that You have made,
Holding worlds in sway by timeless thought,
‘Tis You who formed me as Your very own
And gave me life.
You spoke, and Light of life the formless void denounced.
Uncomprehending, yielding to the shatt’ring sound of Artist’s song,
The darkness bowed, relenting, unequipped to stand against the dance
Of fiery love that swirled and turned, exploding forth in spiraled spectacle,
With but one thought at center in Your gladdening heart:
Your Bride would soon be born.
All stars proclaiming, each planet singing, the heav’ns declare Your wondrous ways,
All bushes burning, each leaf agreeing, the large and small disclose Your love.
Thru detailed plan You left no doubt – Your sculpted towers announce the joy
Of passioned Heart this place preparing to give a glimpse of greater glory
Still awaiting, standing ready – Heaven! Cleansed by Servant’s suffering,
Eager for the Bride’s ascension.
And yet there still remained the final act, the great disclosure unconceived in any mind
Save in the heart of Holy Father, Son and Spirit all agreeing.
Thought unrivaled! Plan stupendous! Seraphim caused to fall in wonder,
You revealed the ecstatic myst’ry, crafted in Your contemplation
Of Your Bride. Your love revealing, Your Beauty embodied,
You took Her form, and came as Man.
O, song unending! No voice is skilled enough to sing Your praises!
Such love is this – that You would clothe Your own immortal beauty in human frame!
What tongue can sing it! What pen can tell of Your great passion!
The Word among us! Grace and Truth in flesh and blood!
Glory’s brightness, Radiance expressed in thund’rous mystery!
O, Worthy Lamb! O, Christ Most Holy!
So now receive this hymn of praise from heart and lips that scarce can sing.
My confidence in You alone.
Your ravished heart accepts my offering.
Poems © Gary Wiens 1999/2000
The lonely man sets eyes upon a city far below.
His wistful gaze, unfocused, hints at stirring
longings deeply felt, a pain unspoken.
What moves his heart? What desire lodges deep within,
Quietly ablaze with passion held in line
Until Another says ‘tis time?
His hands, held quiet now, altho’ they fashioned worlds, show gentle strength
Developed thru the years of plying tools in another’s shop.
An apron was His royal robe, His scepter strong a hammer
That was wielded by those hands with pow’r and grace.
His clear, undaunted eyes belie the truth that’s known
Within the depths of pensive heart:
‘Tis soon enough the tools will be held in other hands
Cruelly, justly, forming Him to pure design
That lives within Another’s mind.
But now ‘tis flesh that fills His heart, not wood.
A people He would form, a nation call
To love the Lord their God with passion unrestrained.
He yearns to draw them to his humble side,
To strengthen, not reject; to nourish, not deny.
He names them “Bride”, but hearts are tightly bound,
And ears that do not hear
And eyes that do not see refuse to dance to joyful sound.
“Jerusalem, Jerusalem!” He calls with heaving sigh,
“How often would I draw you near, but you would not respond.
‘Tis you that kill the ones who come in Father’s name,
Who feel the heartbeat of the Lamb, and sing His song.
O winsome Bride! How long until you see and take your part?
Come now to me! Come, take my hand and fill this aching heart!”
He lifts His gaze from what’s below to heav’nly realms,
To places only eyes of faith might see,
Recalling what His Father spoke thru prophet old –
“Upon the pierced One their eyes will look. Their hearts will mourn,
And grace and supplication will be poured,
And Bride will come and recognize, and be restored.”
A plaintive smile grazed His lips. He rose to go His way,
His longing heart, now touched with joy, made ready for the day.
Poems © Gary Wiens 1999/2000
Dead on their feet, weariness in human shape, the city-folk move from day to day:
Hearts covered with scars and calluses, eyes devoid of light, seeing little, perceiving less,
Wise in worldly ways, desperate behind the cool front, survival the one desire.
But few will dare to ask (for fear there is no answer)
“What is it that I am surviving for?”
Distant beyond memory, not accessible to conscious thought,
Beauty lies buried under time and pain and too much going on.
Wanting to see, not knowing they ever could, the eyes of all wait upon One unknown.
Accustomed to the dark and the tasteless, gazing on nothing and calling it “awesome”,
Distortion fills their minds now, the Real too submerged, too forgotten
To make a difference in the colorless world of their subsistence.
II
Just off to the side, brooding over the misshapen form of a broken Image,
Wisdom waits again for Word to speak and bring from nothing Form and Radiance.
Fully knowing, fully loving, the tender Warrior bides His time until her heart is ready.
Peering in through shuttered windows, catching glimpses of one beloved,
The King of Heaven takes dead aim at the ashen figure, bent in anguish, in deep despair.
Darts of Joy His bow now loosing, hints of Beauty His voice now whisp’ring,
Wisdom’s arrows strike their mark as Heaven exults and devils tremble.
Soul now stirring, body trembling, the power enters for broken Image to call His Name.
Barely chosen, spoken weakly, cry ascends to Warrior’s ears.
Zeal awakened, fiery Heart pounding, the Radiant One sings as Hope now enters.
Eyes long dry now flood with tears as the King bestows the veil of Beauty.
Disbelief begins to melt as the gentle hands of the Lord of Glory
Lift the face of the new-crowned Bride, and she begins to see.
III
Veil now lifted, eyes now gazing, transforming Power begins to shape the soul now living.
The callused heart, once torn by pains too many to name or number, is softening now.
He sings His love from dawn to dawn as she sits, trembling, before His feet.
His words of life pierce deep within to probe and purge, to wound and heal.
Beholding, steady, eyes wide open, the Bride now sees her one Beloved.
His gaze is pure, her soul refreshing. His Word is true, her mind renewing.
His heart ablaze with love’s fire burning, He lifts her up toward His own dwelling.
Her hand in His, she walks the city now with new perspective, clothed in grace.
Old comrades notice, then respond with different voices, some accusing, some with wonder.
“Who is this?” they cry together. “Who’s your Friend? And does He know?
Does He know who you have been, and where you’ve gone, and what you’ve done?”
“Who does she think she is? Who does He think she is?” The voices bray, the questions fly.
“Yes, He knows me,” comes the answer, eyes not turning, trust not wavering.
He has known from the beginning who I am and how He loves me.
And I will follow Him forever, trusting simply, loving deeply,
For He has shown me Heaven’s Glory, kindled my heart with fiery Beauty,
Touched my eyes with hands of mercy.
I once was blind, but now I
Poems © Gary Wiens 1999/2000
A wispy, fleeting phantom,
longing grazes the edges of my soul,
Just out of sight. A faint perfume, it hangs mid-air,
A memory, not quite complete,
Touching feelings, stirring something not quite there,
Yet real, O! so real!
O sweet Jesus, how long until once more
Your gaze arrests my heart?
You come and go, now touching,
now keeping distance,
Unpredictable, like breath of wind.
When can I find You? Will You be captured
as You have captured me?
Sweet sadness o’ertakes me, lending voice
to the pensive song of a lovesick soul.
Less wild lovers call, sending forth their saccharine smells,
False appeals stemming not from love, but raging hate.
They promise joy tonight, cheaply, if I but take and eat.
I glance, but longing calls, and sweeter far its misty strains
Than any pledge of instant glee.
O lovely Lord, stretch forth your wounded hand
And drip the precious, fragrant flow of passioned love
All over me again. Retake my battered heart,
Steal me away to secret place where deep and deep engage.
I love you, Lord! I want your presence gorging me,
Consuming me with fervent zeal to know you more.
O living flame! Beset me now with love divine,
And say to me again “Beloved! I am yours and you are mine.”
But full release does not yet come.
The veil is torn, I’ve entered in –
Yet still I see with eyes bedimmed as in a glass.
When shall I know as I am known? When shall the hope be realized?
How long will mortal flesh impede desire? How long?
A wispy, fleeting phantom, longing grazes the edges of my soul,
Just out of sight. A faint perfume, it hangs mid-air,
A memory, not quite complete,
Touching feelings, stirring something not quite there,
Yet near, so very near!
Poems © Gary Wiens 1999/2000
Sabachthani
I
On the edge of conscious thought, Fear stands,
Guilty of loitering;
Mostly unseen, hiding behind masks of other,
More acceptable emotions,
He taunts with old words –
“If you are a son of God . . .”
Time and time again,
The pungent odor of his presence touches senses,
Staining air otherwise sweet.
“The Lord is near, why should I be afraid?” –
My soul speaks, and calls the heart
To what is True and Pure – I know ‘tis so!
And yet . . . .
II
Disturbing things were spoken yesterday –
Words abhorrent in my hearing:
“Handed over”,
“crucified”,
“deny me”
Were the phrases uttered.
When He said them, I objected
“Maybe they, my Lord, but never I!
I have faith! I love You well,
Much more than these!
Was it not I who knew You first
As Son of God?
I will not fall, I will not . . . .”
With tender gaze, His words sent icy flow into my veins –
“’Tis soon enough the cock will crow;
But do not fear,
I have a place prepared.”
“Do not fear.”
O, empty thought! O, mocking sentiment!
Did You know when thus You spoke
That they would take You, captiv’d,
To the place of accusation, place of scourging,
Then, to death?
The confidence I felt in
“Do not fear”
Was wrapp’d in You,
And now ‘tis You that stands
All bound and bloodied, battered –
Worst of all – undelivered.
You make no sound!
Where is the Word that calmed the seas?
Where the groan that Laz’rus heard,
That shattered locks on gates of death?
You can’t be silent! No!
‘Tis now I need Your strength!
Son of God! Messiah!
“Come down!” – they mock, I plead –
Yet naught You speak,
But dumbly stand, receiving blows
Deliver’d by an enemy hot with hatred.
Silent like a Lamb.
III
Enough that You should take
The scorn and shame of cruel tree,
And die un-mourned save by a few.
What grips me now, I own with hanging head,
Is that my life in You has died.
Where hope for me?
‘Twas You Who thrilled my heart with words of life,
Who sang and dared my feet
To dance with new-found joy.
‘Twas You Who took my hand,
And laughed with me
As silly questions, foolish answers
From my lips did pour.
And You were He Who looked
Into my eyes and spoke a name
That gave me hope –
One day I, too, might be a rock of strength.
I need You, Lord!
I need You here to take me through my soul’s dark night!
Where are You now?
You’ve gone! My God!
Sabachthani!
IV
The shadow of the cross lies long
Upon the lives of those in deep despair.
Their God is dead, for all they know.
They do not cease to love and pray –
They have no choice – He stole their hearts.
But now they walk a darker way,
One unexpected, and His face they cannot find.
His voice is silent now,
Just as it was upon that tree.
Why is it so? Has truth now changed,
And what they knew been shown as false?
All things are tested now in the shadow of the cross.
All hearts revealed –
Some still anoint Him, even weeping,
As they did when touch was warm.
Some call their sin too great for His forgiveness,
Turn away,
And die alone.
Some turn again to lesser things
Once left behind in hope of better joy –
It’s all there is, you know,
When Christ has died.
V
“How long, O Lord?
Will You abandon me forever?
Do not leave me all alone!”
I cry to heav’ns of brass.
“How long . . . ?”
What’s that I hear?
Is ground a-trembling? Is thunder rolling,
Though stars be unobstructed now by clouds of night?
It’s almost dawn.
Perhaps I’ll go and see what Mary knows.
Poems © Gary Wiens 1999/2000
You came again. Scarcely can my heart believe,
Yet breathless soul cries out that once again you came and kissed me with your Word
and made me soar as though on wings of wind.
In greater measure now, as though from faith to faith, I grasp the way things are –
My eyes becoming single, my palate less enchanted now by fare of blander taste.
I want your pleasure, Lord, and my desire is that joy, cascading down,
Would flood the desert place of heart’s past home.
O sweet perplexity! How do I think about the touch that kindles heart within!
You waken me to ecstasy such that speech is no companion.
And yet until poetic art still un-displayed gives language to the surge inside,
Until some picture comes to quantify the passion in my soul,
Your kiss remains the mystery that drives me to my knees.
II
Like freshest aroma skipping through the air, faint yet captivating, You catch my attention,
Quickening my heart with what I hoped for through the night,
That once again You’d interrupt my morning with Your desiring touch.
The scent comes once again, stronger now, turning my head, spinning my mind,
Causing me to dare to hope ‘tis Your sweet hand upon the door.
I cannot conjure this delight – yet more and more, as I prepare the way,
Hoping, hoping that this familiar yet elusive touch would come – You do!
Here You are! O, joy unspeakable! O, delight that burns with holy flame!
You do what only You can do – at once fulfilling and instilling passion deep within.
Your embrace grows strong, then lessens as the rhythms of love are played.
I sense Your Sacred Head bent near, and as I turn to gaze I’m overcome.
The wounds are still in Your brow! Your hand, whose touch restores my soul,
Still drips the fragrant oil You spilled for me.
O, Lord my God! You love me! This I know!
What You endured to win my heart! What love is this! My King! My Friend!
O, who am I that You should love me so! And Who are You that You can love me so?
III
As I lay my head upon Your breast, You speak Your peace ‘til I am still,
My heart now silent, speech a needless thing.
What secrets will You whisper in my ear this day? Will You speak to me of Beauty
Yet unseen by once blind eyes, adjusting still to newfound Light?
Will You awaken senses so that I may find the traces of Your passing where’er I walk?
Quicken still more this barely-living soul, that I Your voice may hear,
That I Your scent may catch in mundane things of passing day.
You fill the earth with Beauty’s trace – let me see Your form, e’en just in passing.
May I tell the handmaidens of Your love?
Will You release some unknown art to feeble mind
That somehow, stammering, my words inept, I might declare Your worth?
It is no wonder the maidens love You. Who would not, once You are seen?
You are so pure, so right, intent on winning them as You have me.
When will we meet again? When can I steal away
And find this place where tender passion feeds my soul,
Where once again Your voice will send my heart aloft, on fire?
What’s that you say? Your plan is not to go, but stay?
Poems © Gary Wiens 1999/2000
Though dawn is distant, I wake again, to sit in Your Presence, to wonder at You.
You’ve ruined me, You know, for anything else. Longing for one vocation fills my soul:
To consider You, to feel You, to worship You,
To find words (O, vain and futile task!) that capture what’s burning in my heart.
Your gaze presses in upon me – warm, yet weighty, on the edge between tender and terrible;
And the oldest truth I know comes back again in plain yet haunting tones:
You love me. I matter to You, and You are never not there.
My heart swells with yearning, quickened to what the Shulamite knew, so long ago,
Your image gazing through the lattice, Your touch upon the door.
Her pounding heart sets the tempo for mine as desire mounts –
To be loved, purely and completely, O, wonder beyond wonder!
I will follow after You, lovesick, for all my days.
You draw me upward, expanding my heart like a balloon over fire,
And I am carried on Spirit-wings to regions only dreams have known ‘til now.
You cause all thoughts of place and power to become as nothing,
Vapors with no reality, for nothing matters but to be with You.
I want nothing from You now, save this one thing:
Let me live forever in a place like this – with You, just with You.
Only touch my eyes. Please, Lord – I want to see.
I prayed last night for words that would declare Your Beauty,
And now You answer my longing with joy that strips my tongue of speech,
And renders me helpless, hopelessly in love, trembling my only choice.
This is the manner of man, is it not? To be before You, listening to Your heart,
To feel Your love, to know without a doubt the oldest story is true.
I sing with teary voice. I’m gone. You’ve taken me, O Lord. Do not put me back.
I believe You now. Such wondrous things in store!
Words will come, and other ears will hear, and other hearts will be inflamed,
And You will crown Your Church with Beauty, and She,
With all who come and all who’ve gone before,
Will gaze on You, and every moment fall fresh in love, and be Your Bride.
Poems © Gary Wiens 1999/2000
O, brilliant Morning Star, the Shining One Whom all the heav’ns adore,
Didst Thou take humble attitude and walk upon this planet
Clothed in servant’s garb,
And all for me?
Thou Son of God, yea, Son of Man – Desire of Nations is Thy rightful name –
Didst Thou leave Heaven’s majesty and, stooping low, didst condescend
To be the one called “Undesired”,
And all for me?
Thou unmade Maker, ‘Bread of Life’ Thy name is called. Yet Thou didst hunger
In the wilderness. And from Thy fasted lips submissive words came forth,
Disdaining pow’r to work upon the stones a transformation,
And all for me!
O, grave injustice! O, single horror of the age of man!
That Thou, Who knew the Father’s joy from e’er the world began,
Wouldst take the place of sorrow’d tears,
And all for me?
What didst Thou see? And what transcendent vision filled Thy lovely eyes,
That Thou wouldst leave without a backward glance the glory realm,
And purchase with Thy precious blood the pearl of matchless price?
Didst Thou see me?
What filled Thy heart? What longing didst embrace, Who knows no need,
That our transgressions Thou wouldst take, O sinless One!
And bear our griefs in tortured pain,
And all for me!
Thou Word of God, Who with Thy mouth called all the universes forth,
Didst bear the scorn of shameful men in silence, and uttered not a sound
‘Til from Thy ruined lips forgiveness came,
‘Twas said to me.
O Lamb of God, Thou didst embrace the bruising of the Father’s hand
To win a Bride, one made like Thee through anguished sacrifice
To stand beside Thy throne with equal right. That heav’nly Queen
Includes now me.
Thou great High Priest, ‘twas not with lesser blood Thou didst ascend that holy hill;
But with Thine own – O Precious Flow! – didst cleanse the heavenly Holy Place
And purchased there redemption’s joy – eternal bliss for all who come,
Yea, ev’n for me!
So take Thy place, Thou Righteous Son, and with Thy labor now be satisfied,
And know the pleasure of the Father’s will which prospers in Thy hand.
Through Thine own body interposed to join the jealous fires of wrath and love –
Receive now me.
Let praise arise! And evermore a joyous symphony ascends with grateful tears
As one with all the saints I stand in joyful union! Bowing now, unnumbered singers
Cast their crowns before Thy feet, O Worthy One! Thy Bride now sings
“‘Tis all for Thee!”
Poems © Gary Wiens 1999/2000
*The price includes 14% GST/PST on shipments to Ontario, Nova Scotia, New Brunswick & Newfoundland and 6% GST on shipments to all other provinces in Canada.
GST account number 117413583 and PST vendor number 36321559.
HOME PAGE BIOGRAPHY LINKS POEMS CONTACT US ITINERARY PRODUCTS