Monthly Archives: March 2012

Only Time Can Tell


Only time can tell. Oooo…
Who are the chosen ones?
Only time can tell. Oooo…
Who has received His love?
Only time can tell. Oooo…
Who are the faithful ones?
Only time can tell. Oooo…
And the Father up above.

Verse 1:
You’ve promised to finish this work You’ve begun,
And I want to proclaim I’m a child of the Son,
But so many times I’ve denied what You’ve done.
Oh, how I long to hear, “Well done, My faithful one.”

Verse 2:
Am I a seed that’s been sown in good land?
Time is the test that my faith must stand?
Yet is this faith real when I just make demands?
Oh, You hold my time in the palm of Your hand.

Only time can tell. Oooo…
Who are the chosen ones?
Only time can tell. Oooo…
Who has received His love?
Only time can tell. Oooo…
Who are the faithful ones?
Only time can tell. Oooo…
And the Father up above.

Verse 3:
I’ve got to make sure this ain’t just pretend.
When the world applies pressure, will I just bend?
Humble me, Lord; it’s my heart You must rend.
With You alone God, I wanna make amends.

Verse 4:
Lord, I believe all the truths I’ve been told,
But there’s so much of life that is yet to unfold.
I need to share You, please, make my faith bold,
And in all my struggles, don’t let my faith grow cold.

By Keely Myles

Scripture Verses:
Luke 18:6-8; Matthew 22:14; John 1:11-13; John 3:16-18; 1 Peter 1:8-9; Philippians 1:6; Matthew 10:32-33; Matthew 25:23: Matthew 13:1-23; Mark 4:1-20; James 1:12; James 4:3; Ecclesiastes 3:11;
1 Peter 5:5-6; Micah 6:8; Matthew 24:12-13


LORD, I lack assurance.


LORD, I lack assurance.
It’s a thing I need to find.
My confidence has been in self.
Why have I been so blind?

If faith is the conviction
Of things I cannot see,
Then I must become so certain
That this promise is for me.

Sanctification is a process,
Not a work that is my own.
It’s by Your Holy Spirit;
By my fruit it will be shown.

LORD, prune my wicked heart.
Cut all the sin and pride away.
Grafted into the One True Vine,
And in this Vine I want to stay.

Apart from You, I do no good,
And would be thrown into the fire.
A true disciple? Glorify the Father!
Bearing the sweet fruit You desire.

The time is coming soon!
You will come without delay.
I don’t want to be amongst the ones
Shrinking back — destroyed upon that day.

So I need the righteousness
That is really not my own.
Give me faith in Jesus Christ
— Let it be in Him alone!

By Keely Myles

Formed from scripture. Read:
-Hebrews 10:19-11:1
-John 15:1-11
-Romans 11:17-24

Why would You give me words? (Revised)


Why would You give me words
If I weren’t one of Yours?
Why would You speak to me
If this weren’t meant to be?

All of this sin I hide,
My overwhelming pride,
It’s here every single day,
Please take it all away.

Can we meet face to face
Before Your throne of grace?
Oh, let my doubts be through;
Tell me this love is true.

How can I question You?
With all that You can do,
Surely there’s got to be
Room in Your heart for me.

When will I ever see
Myself the way You see me
When You look from above
With endless Father’s love?

How can I show You, Lord,
I wanna know you more?
How can I give my life
In light of Your sacrifice?

Oh, may I live like You,
Do all that You want me to.
Will it be seen in me,
Your perfect humility?

By Keely Myles
November 19, 2009

LORD, You do give me words,
Affirming I’m one of Yours.
LORD, You do speak to me.
I know this is meant to be.

All of this sin I hide,
My overwhelming pride.
It’s here every single day,
But You take it all away.

When we meet face to face,
Before Your throne of grace,
You make my doubts be through
And tell me this love is true.

I use to question You,
Yet with all You can do,
I know there’s got to be
Room in Your heart for me.

Teach me to some day see
Myself the way You see me
When You look from above
With endless Father’s love.

How can I show You, LORD,
I wanna know You more?
How can I give my life
In light of Your sacrifice?

Oh, may I live like You.
Do all that You want me to.
Help it be seen in me,
Your perfect humility.

Revised June 2, 2010
By Keely Myles

His Motorbike


Feeling wilder with each mile
Good vibrations make me smile
Bodies moving with each bend
Never want this road to end
Cutting through a force of air
Feeling like I’m in a dare
Shadow constant, road a-tumbling
Listening to the muffler rumbling
Gassing up with people gawking
Is traveling this way so shocking?
Leaning back, taking in the view
Waving at a friend or two
So carefree with hands held high
Feeling like I can fly
Clinging to this man I like
Riding on his motorbike


By Keely Myles
August 26th, 2011




Maybe I have pretense.
Maybe I’m too intense.
Maybe I cause offense.
Maybe I apply pressure.
Maybe I bring fissure
and fracture.

But, I meant to be genuine,
Not nettlesome.
A non-threatening
Speculum of the Son,
Without ethnocentrism.

I want to be…
Gently beckoning
Those perishing
To the King.

By Keely Myles
February 21, 2012
Romans 12:9-21 (Marks of a True Christian)
“Let love be genuine…”

“Bergie Seltzer”


No man is an island,
Yet every individual is an iceberg.
Broken away from the mother glacier.
Floating, floating on its own.
Espy the tip.
Each one unusual.
Uniquely shaped.
Cragged and creviced.
Striking, sightly.

But dare to dip down
Search beyond what you see
At sea-level.
Delve deeper.
An inestimable
Worth inquisitory exploration.
Eight-ninths larger than
How could appraisal be made
For such an immense
Accumulation of ice?

To warmer water,
To an indefinite, definite end.
A slow, successional thaw.
A deep sighing
“Bergie Seltzer”
Until liquescent soul

By Keely Myles
March 6, 2012
Verse ~ James 4:14

bus ride


a hundred worlds collide
for just one ride to town
citizens clad in coats
check watches waiting
to board and embark
to different destinations
“watch your step”
scurrying feet shuffle swiftly
“move to the back thank-you”
squishing, squeezing
seat exchanging, re-arranging
stuffing items in between
like a jigsaw puzzle
some sit back lucky to
have secured a seat
others stand upright
grasping germs on yellow tubing
“for your safety please hold on”
transit-phobia takes over
and the last of the willing victims are
swallowed by the folding door
then we pull away from the curb
like innocent bystanders boxed
enduring the company of strangers
altogether becoming spectators of
this mingling menagerie
a people watcher’s haven
too many textures to take in
immersed in mediums of mankind
painting pictures in my mind’s eye
i shouldn’t be gawking
so i’m sneaking glances
the bus is loaded like the
Tic Tacs in my purse
people packed in a rectangular,
transparent, plastic case
those stuck in the middle are
barely managing to balance
their backpacks bumping
as we bounce over bridges
despite the jittering and jostling
some are zoning out
having zero interest
sleeping or staring dazed
are they internalizing agonies?
they should have forehead signs
saying “sorry not in service”
odd to have the elderly standing
while young men sit spacing out
there’s a dozen gadgets going
fingers fidgeting freely
still others are laughing loudly
sometimes blurting profanities
a few couples converse
quietly accentuating english
with varying articulation
the Antonio and Melanie look-alike
grin at one another affably
a bright-eyed baby babbles
until slowly sleep sweeps eyelids shut
hats, glasses, tattoos, shoes
a person reading today’s news
a headache arises as i inhale humid air
smoke scented, perfume penetrating,
over-heating people refusing
to peel off layers on account of
lack of space and the warning sign:
“stay alert
watch your belongings
pickpockets operating”
a noticeable advertising invasion
encompasses the ceiling
government of Canada propaganda
posters that “say no to drugs” and such
some one sneezes, another wheezes
throats being cleared
coffee being swallowed
while pondering these impolitenesses
claustrophobia closes in
breathing down each others’ necks
invading personal space this way is
considered inappropriate anywhere else
i would suffocate if it weren’t for the
emergency exit cracked open
“excuse me, your fingers?”
a female flames forcefully
bing! the bell cheerily interrupts
a momentary gush of fresh coolness
makes it possible to survive
until the “next stop”
the driver keeps his mind on the road
handling roundabouts and right-angles
carefully as each corner transforms this
oversized machine into an accordion
do the circled mirrors allow him
to maintain some form of control?
gazing out plexiglass windows
blurred pictures whiz by
leaving me bleary-eyed
then the sun begins to set
i observe only glimpses
split-second peeks at
serene sights of light surfacing
in spaces between skyscrapers
construction crews nearly off duty
are causing uncalled for stops
overhearing discussions now
they’d rather walk because it would be
faster than this pace
each frenzied face
trying to beat the rat race
but the bus moves on
like a gargantuan creeping caterpillar
yep “the wheels on the bus go round and
round all through the town”
reaching Granville most everyone
rushes out leaving the rest of us finally
receiving room to relax
the sunset is reduced to a shaded sliver
yet it still seems to add a shimmering
sweetness to the sides of structures
dusk gives way to nightfall
flickering florescence lights and
neon signs nab my attention
and i resolve after retrospect
Vancouver is a pretty city after all

by keely myles
february 18, 2012