As I See It

Goodbye

2010-04-17T15:23:00.013-05:00

We regret to inform you that Rev. Orion Lewis passed away on April 11, 2010. His obituary follows, as well as several video and content posts. We welcome messages, memories and other content as comments on this post.

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Rev. Orion Neely Lewis died at his home in Lenexa, KS, Sunday, April 11, 2010 with close family at his side. Born Feb 5, 1920 in Beeville, TX, Orion's 90 years were rich in friendship and love. The family will welcome visitors at St. Paul's United Methodist Church (UMC), 7740 Lackman, Lenexa, KS, on Wednesday, April 14, from 6-8 p.m. Services will be held at 10 a.m., on Thursday, April 15, also at St. Paul's UMC. Interment will follow immediately at the cemetery in Wellsville, Kansas.

Orion married Dorothy Lou Reynolds in 1943, and they shared 60 years blessed by four children. A rancher at heart, Orion answered the call to ministry in 1952 and served throughout southwest Texas in full-time ministry until 1985, when he retired to enjoy his grandchildren and pursue ranching in Franklin County, Kansas. In retirement, he served as Associate Pastor at the First UMC in Ottawa, KS, and then as pastor at Richmond UMC. After Dorothy died in 2001, he married Mary Knipstein Maughn in 2004 and moved to Lenexa. A truly renaissance man, his interests extended from writing poetry to training horses; from raising bees to learning jazz piano; from using Spanish to baking bread.

Preceded in death by his beloved Dorothy; and his daughter, Jo Ann, Rev. Lewis is survived by his spouse and best friend, Mary Maughn Lewis, of the home; three children, Judy Wollen of Little Rock, AR, Ernie Lewis of Conway, AR, and Glenda Pfeifer of Olathe, KS; his sister, Mary Bost of Georgetown, TX, his brother, Earle Lewis of Round Rock, TX; grandchildren Andy Wollen, Kristina Wollen, Beth Lewis Miller, Zach Feris, Coby Feris, and Anthony Pfeifer; and great grandchildren Sydney Gates, Nicholas Wollen, Gabriel Wollen, Michael Wollen, Lyla Miller, Owen Miller and River Orion Feris; and a host of loving in-laws, cousins, nieces, nephews and friends.

In lieu of flowers, the family suggests memorials to:

The Dorothy and Orion Lewis Endowment

Heifer International Foundation

PO Box 727

Little Rock, AR 72203

888-422-1161.

http://www.heiferfoundation.org

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Rev. Lewis asked that these poems be read at the service:

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This video montage of music and photos was played during the wake and before the memorial service. It's broken up into four sections:

AM I READY?

2008-08-18T20:40:00.000-05:00

Am I ready to meet the Lord?

Yes, I met Him long ago,

Left "my nets" to preach His word,

Then town to town, to and fro.

I tired at times, and would have quit;

His word sometimes became a sword,

Which cut so deep with Holy Writ

That oft I found myself ignored.

Pain of preaching is seldom known

By those whose sins set them apart,

Who know not yet Christ did atone

For sin that still controls their heart.

God given patience in those years

Helped me to see the good in men,

And though it often was with tears,

God's Holy Spirit defeated sin.

Yes, I'm ready to meet the Lord,

To be beside Him throughout time;

According to his gracious word,

I've kept the faith, and made the climb.

WHY?

2008-08-18T20:35:00.000-05:00

Why does man strive to live

When he has little left to give?

When joints are worn and muscles torn,

And few fresh thoughts his mind adorn?

When thoughts are lowly and come so slowly,

When all his thoughts wax more holy,

When aches and pains course through his veins,

And drugs and diet his life maintains?

Why not relax and let things be,

Instead of spending days to see

Doctors, nurses, health institutions,

To overthrow divine conclusions?

Three score and ten, the years of life

The Bible gives for this life's strife.

Except four score, by way of strength,

If God sees fit to stretch that length.

So man, relax, your span is done,

When you should walk, don't try to run;

Eternal life is now begun;

Cease your struggles, and just have fun!

Don't be so wired because you're tired;

Have you not done what i desired?

Rest my son, don't try to run;

Eternal life is now begun.

JUNK MAIL

2008-01-30T23:38:00.000-06:00

Junk mail is a nuisance; we all agree that’s true,
But here’s a bad dilemma that really makes me blue!
When this comes to pass, it makes my spirit fall!
If I didn’t get this junk mail, I’d get no mail at all!

Did you ever let that junk mail imagine a cruise ship?
With those millions which it promises,
You could surely take a trip!!
And all it takes to make it true is let your reason slip!

Expertise is not essential in this “once in life time chance”!
Just stay at home every day, but join us in the dance!
The offer says with composure, and with great reserve,
“Just take it easy, our new friend, and get what you deserve.

You could work in your pajamas, and never comb your hair!
Yod never go out to work, and make a mint not being there!
They’ll even furnish you a car, though you don’t leave the house!
Even in my dreams, this would make me feel like a louse!

What a shame no one’s at home at this e-mail address!
Or is the mind that’s “not at home” the one who sent me all this mess?
Now and then I open junk just to pass the rime,
But since I have to work tomorrow, I better end this silly rhyme.

AN ETERNAL GIFT

2007-12-02T22:39:00.000-06:00

As we think of Christmas gifts,
The gifts that are of greatest worth
Are those which bring spiritual lifts
From womb-like slumber to glorious birth.

Ideal peace, conceived through Christ
Seems to sleep in fetus hearts
Though we know Christ sacrificed
To inbreed peace and pattern parts..

How long must we await our birth,
Full blown, at work for human good
To bring sweet peace to all the earth
As Jesus Christ has said we should?

Lord God, help us to haste that day
When spears shall turn to pruning hooks
When swords are plowshares, which really pay
The price prescribed in gospel books.

Man was meant to love and lift;
Not to be “worms in the dust”
Royal priesthood is Christ’s gift
To fashion peace, AND WE MUST!

PEACEFUL COMMUNICATION

2007-09-25T22:04:00.000-05:00

So often psychic pain
Settles upon us
And we suffer, so in vain
Over pain we don’t discuss.
Te rationalize our silence
Seeing self as private soul,
Which can create violence
And destroy our life goal.

In strong desire to maintain peace
We hold our pain deep inside
Our souls then find no release;
Fear, hurt, anger still reside.
How often foe becomes a friend
When humbly, with a loving heart,
We bring our difference to an end
Which helps true friendship make it’s start.

Weakness fears confessing need;
It tries to flex it’s “would be” muscle!
Which incites fear in foe indeed,
And brings about a needless struggle.
Our world, like we, must voice it’s need,
Openly, as friend to friend,
And thus broadcast peaceful seed,
And bring world violence to end.

AFRAID OF NOTHING TO FEAR

2007-07-25T22:39:00.000-05:00

Why, for fear of Old Ben Ladden,
Is our world now so downtrodden?
Of all the world, he owns so little
His wealth is neither jot nor tittle
Compared to wealth our nation owns,
So why sits he on war lord thrones?

To fear his strike fulfills his goal,
So we put terror on a roll
When we gird up to repell
His improvised troops of Hell.
Much better we should build a following
Than in world paranoia wallowing!

Rather than fear the Taliban,
Which Ladden builds because he can
Among the people who have no chance
By education to advance,
Let us provide opportunity,
And so to terror have immunity.

BEST WE CAN; SEE WHAT HAPPENS

2007-07-21T23:12:00.000-05:00

They who really “have the goods”
Have gone to school until they learned,
Have not regretted side lines spurned,
Have taken humbly what they earned,
Projected future like Tiger Woods.

“I’ll do the best I can,” says Woods,
“And see what happens,” we hear him say.
He knows sun, wind or rain can change his play
On any given golfing day.
If we don’t think like Tiger Woods - perhaps we should?

For sun, wind and rain come in our lives,
Illness, breaks, competition,
All bring life to its fruition;
So we are wise to make admission
That life can “happen” though man strives.

Maturity will always say
That all things work toward our good,
Poor ways show better ways would
Change poor “can’t” to positive “could”
As we learn to look, learn, laugh and pray.

A PARALLEL

2007-07-10T22:18:00.000-05:00

The game of golf is much like life;
Some shots easy, some fraught with strife.
So much depends upon the winds,
And fairway slopes around the bends.
Will your ball pass protruding limbs
Which form irregular fairway rims,
Or sands that form dangerous places,
Lying in wait with hungry faces?

It’s the thrill of shooting through such places
Which keeps us going through the paces,
Always looking for a better score
Though we have improved, we want much more.
There are those days when the hole seems small,
Or we just can’t get there from here at all,
So we must pitch out to mid fairway
For and easier shot and a much better day.

DON’T BELLYACHE

2007-06-17T23:13:00.000-05:00

If I should cry about my knees
Which ache in changing weather,
Or be disturbed each time I sneeze
When I and pollen get together,
I’d spend my time just wiping tears
Lentimenting aching joints,
Poking at my stopped up ears
And other tantalizing points;
So I’ll just roll with every punch,
And thank the Lord I’ve lived this long,
And maybe aches will cease a bunch
And leave me with a happy song.

A SECOND LOVE

2007-03-21T22:25:00.000-05:00

The longer I live with my sweet wife,
The more I value our great life.
Though grief brought us to our first talk
It also brought us to this pleasant walk
In our growing garden of heavenly love
Which we recognize as a gift from above.

Losing life partners, it seemed love had ended,
Though hundreds stood by and often befriended,
Nor did we plan to be more than friends:
A friendship based on romantic ends.
But that great heart I met that first night,
Stayed in my heart and brought me delight.

Wherever she goes, I want to be;
The more together, the more we can see
That we were meant to love each other,
And denying that love we both would smother
New life that came from our grief to lift
Us right into heaven through God’s precious gift.

We have not forgotten those partners we love
We’re sure they rejoice as they watch from above,
The joy we feel through what they taught
About how to love as lovers ought,
Nor do they resent our love for each other,
For Dorothy’s a sister and Buddy’s a brother.

So it will be with Mary and Me
When we arrive in Eternity.
“No marriage in heaven,” is Christ‘s comment.
Brides of Christ will never resent
The mighty works that God has done
Once Eternal Life is begun.

A TOUGH OLD DOG

2007-03-08T22:27:00.000-06:00

Old Buster was a mixed breed dog,
As tough as any old Oak log;
He worked with horses, cattle, goats,
And just as well with Grandpa’s shoats.

At night he bayed to moonlit skies,
On summer days, he fought the flies.
With trust, he worked at his ranch life,
And seldom flinched when there was strife.

One day when he was feeling punk,
And from the smell, had killed a skunk,
We saw he had a swelled up head,
And wondered that he was not dead.

A snake had struck him on the nose.
His mouth was swelled and would not close,
But he survived that fateful day;
A tough old dog is what I say!

Would that men were as tough
When life gets hard and really rough;
Then maybe men, as well as he,
Could make life what it’s meant to be.

THE GREAT QUESTION

2006-08-12T22:11:00.000-05:00

Life is blamed and called so cruel;
Good and bad seem oft in dual
For the minds of creatures we call men,
Who may be to blame for “the fix we’re in”!

Oh, there are tsunamis, tornadoes, storms,
Which often upset what we call “Norms”,
But these are mild compared to the wars,
Which have placed so many behind strong bars!

Barred from the good they were able to do,
By loss of life or a limb or two,
Or the loss of nature, good and kind,
By learning to kill opposing mankind.

Barred from fruition to dreams for their life,
Concerning their friends, their family, their wife;
Barred from fulfillment of God’s great plan
For every wife, child and man.

Oh, Leaders of Nations, please hearken to Him,
Who does place peace above human whim,
And provides a way for all who are able
To disdain greed, and stay at the table.

In this world, there is ample for all;
Not a single nation should ever fall
If mankind learns to listen to others
And feel their needs as loving brothers.

Naive, you say? Then what, I pray
Is more naive than fighting today
When our world has tools for total relief
From poverty, ignorance, danger and grief.

Deserts are open to be irrigated
As war machines can be mutated
To engines of good and caring concern
As man comes to the table to learn.

Whole populations in some starving nations
Are much in need of good educations,
Easily achieved if money spent
On fighting is changed to this intent.

How can man and science continue
In such wasteful and painful retinue,
Which brings so much heartache and pain
When all time has proved it foolish and vain?

Why should not all nations begin
The move to cast out this horrible sin?
Violence breeds violence wherever it’s found;
Good overcomes evil on most all grounds.

So come, sad world, to the table for peace;
Learn of love’s unfailing release
From selfish greed, or staggering fear,
And make this year a liberating year.

WRITE WHEN IT'S RIGHT

2006-08-12T17:32:00.000-05:00

WRITE WHEN IT’S RIGHT

When a poet has nought to say,
He had best go on his way,
Do some things that he can do,
Or just sit calm, in quiet review
Of life as it has loped along,
And that should give him one more song.

When day is drab and night moves slowly,
There is no need to feel so lowly,
For poets too need time to rest,
So they, in time, can do their best:
In times that beg to go on page
As they are written by some sage.

May I find grace to wait and see
The varied things life shows to me;
She will not let me rest for long
without intoning one more song
That will be right to pass along
To a listening, hungry throng;
So I will listen for that “gong”
That helps my bard see right or wrong.

To praise the right, or right the wrong
Should be a poet’s favorite song,
For poems are much more than word;
In their content, should truth be heard!
Truth inspires and sets us free
To live and love all life we see,
So, Lord, please guide my simple bard
So writing truth won’t be so hard.
Orion N. Lewis 8-12-06

WITHOUT MY BARD

2006-08-12T07:30:00.000-05:00

WITHOUT MY BARD

I dislike those days
When my “bard” seems “out to lunch”,
When he simply sits and plays,
And never has a hunch
Concerning life as it goes on;
Not one simply thought to give
While he is up and out, and I’m alone;
Not helping me to be, to give, to live?

How am I to write a verse
About that “nothing” he left to write?
I don’t even dare rehearse
A line of “nothing now in sight”!
So, I guess it’s mine to sit and wait
Until my bard comes home,
A trying task I dearly hate,
But when he’s gone, my thoughts do roam.

Perhaps I need to walk around,
See the people, skirt the town,
See the trees and flowers too,
Hear the people, see what they do,
Listen quietly for his voice,
Telling me to make a choice
Of the words I’ll blend today
That some may hear what I say.
Orion N. Lewis 8-11-06

AUGUST NINE, 2006

2006-08-12T07:26:00.000-05:00

AUGUST NINE, 2006

How many folk, devoid of thought,
Joy ride along the way
To the airport with things they brought,
With no idea of delay?
Confiscation will demand,
On this terrible flying day,
All liquids that they have in hand,
Unless packed for baggage bay.

There are those who seek to kill,
And feel that is their Father’s will;
That we are pagans to wipe out;
Of this they seem to have no doubt.
Have we really failed to show
Just how far we’ll really go
To serve in love all mankind?
If this is truth, are all men blind?

Or have we really failed the test
That God would give, in His quest,
For brotherhood in all the earth
By coming here in Jesus birth?
Have our deeds denied our words;
Have we failed as God’s shepherds,
In that we have sought our own,
And not bowed before His throne?

He came to bring abundant life,
Not to embroil us in this strife
;That teaches us to hate and kill,
And build anew Golgotha’s hill.
It was He that bore the cross,
And it surely is man’s loss
When he builds peace by war,
And thus forgets who we are.

We are servants to love and lift;
That is the Christ’s special gift,
To help mankind, who may be blind
To opportunity of every kind.
This may be out of reach
Unless we take the time to teach
That human grasp exceeds his reach
If he can grasp what love can teach.

Godly love knows no bounds
Allah’s love supports those grounds.
It is man’s interpretation
That pits a nation against a nation.
Neither God nor Allah hate;
They are One, and did create
The world, and all that in it is;
So why do we take Evil’s quiz
By taking one side, or the other,
Against our own created brother?

May man spend wealth on needs that are;
Not create needs by heinous war!
May swords refashioned to plowshare
Bring peace and harmony everywhere!
May war machines be extinct
And love of man become distinct
To co-create with Power Divine
The world for which we do so pine.
Orion N. Lewis, 8-09-06

AUGUST NINE, 2006

2006-08-09T23:06:00.000-05:00

How many folk, devoid of thought,
Joy ride along the way
To the airport with things they brought,
With no idea of delay?
Confiscation will demand,
On this terrible flying day,
All liquids that they have in hand,
Unless packed for baggage bay.

There are those who seek to kill,
And feel that is their Father’s will;
That we are pagans to wipe out;
Of this they seem to have no doubt.
Have we really failed to show
Just how far we’ll really go
To serve in love all mankind?
If this is truth, are all men blind?

Or have we really failed the test
That God would give, in His quest,
For brotherhood in all the earth
By coming here in Jesus birth?
Have our deeds denied our words;
Have we failed as God’s shepherds,
In that we have sought our own,
And not bowed before His throne?

He came to bring abundant life,
Not to embroil us in this strife
;That teaches us to hate and kill,
And build anew Golgotha’s hill.
It was He that bore the cross,
And it surely is man’s loss
When he builds peace by war,
And thus forgets who we are.

We are servants to love and lift;
That is the Christ’s special gift,
To help mankind, who may be blind
To opportunity of every kind.
This may be out of reach
Unless we take the time to teach
That human grasp exceeds his reach
If he can grasp what love can teach.

Godly love knows no bounds
Allah’s love supports those grounds.
It is man’s interpretation
That pits a nation against a nation.
Neither God nor Allah hate;
They are One, and did create
The world, and all that in it is.
So why do we take Evil’s quiz
By taking one side, or the other,
Against our own created brother?

May man spend wealth on needs that are;
Not create needs by heinous war!
May swords refashioned to plowshare
Bring peace and harmony everywhere!
May war machines be extinct
And love of man become distinct
To co-create with Power Divine
The world for which we do so pine.

A POWERFUL GOD

2006-08-09T22:23:00.000-05:00

If we become CAPTAIN of our soul,
And feel we have complete control
Of all that happens in our days,
Do we need God to whom Christ prays?

“If it be possible, let this cup pass;”
Would God ignore his Only Son?
May man see through theology glass
That shows us God, when said and done?

For me, God dwells in human hearts;
His tabernacle He builds right there;
Omnipresence, more than arts,
Reveals a God we all can share.

We speak of Heaven as his home;
Do we not pray for “heaven on earth”?
If His great Spirit makes hearts His Home,
Is this not then our second birth?

It is His Spirit that shows His face,
Not for human eyes to see,
But by that Spirit he gives us grace
To be more like we long to be.

Yes, we drink cups we wish would pass,
As well as cups filled with joy;
We all see “darkly, as through a glass“,
Struggling to be more like His Boy.

Is not this then, “GOD WITH US”,
The Spirit no one can deny?
How great that God so trusts us
That in his Son He willed to die.

Let us look deep within our hearts
To find the trust and love therein;
That sight will help us do our parts
In all the good GOD DOES SHARE IN.

A BETTER WAY

2006-07-10T22:08:00.000-05:00

How much, my Homeland, do we want peace?
What strong effort will we release
To win the minds of every race,
Project the kinds of face to face
Care and concern which wins most hearts,
And helps them learn to do their parts?

In building lives which learn to earn,
We help husbands, also wives, soon discern
Open doors at their doors,
Which say they need not be so poor.
They soon can learn, with their households
As opportunity soon unfolds.

This feeds the poor, clothes and shelters beyond our reach;
Shows the world “a sure-fire lure” by which at last we can impeach
Violent hatred, which leads to war, as others see us as we are.
Far more circumspect than building walls made by fear,
Which walls grow taller year by year,
As we spend billions in our fright, the very thing that makes men fight.

Armies trained to show men how to farm a field,
And raise a cow, as poor enjoy the certain yield,
Would give a strong right step up, rebuild men’s pride,
Take away that bitter cup that mankind drunk, as their pride died
For lack of ways to make a living,
Teach their children, protect their health, limit their giving
The real true base of world-wide wealth.

AVOID THE TSUNAMI

2006-06-15T23:08:00.000-05:00

I am not a prophet, and not very wise,
But I stand in assurance as I’m led to advise
That a nation divided will surely fall,
Or give up division, for the sake of us all.

Terrible hurricanes have ravished our shores,
But they are minimal to storms at our doors;
Broken nations don’t break by storm,
But rather division, which becomes the norm.

I applaud discussion of world-wide events,
But partisan division makes a nation too tense
To work as a union in brotherhood
To establish in love that which is good.

Let us look for the best either party suggests,
Forgetting election as we meet the tests
That life imposes like hurricane winds
Lest the quake of division bring tsunami ends.

BEE ATTITUDE

2005-09-07T23:10:00.000-05:00

How strange that a bee
On a greeting card
Could excite down deep in me
This poetry writing bard.
Perhaps it’s not the bee
That gives me this insight,
But she who brought the bee to be
Who causes me to write.

Far sweeter than the honey,
That honey bee can make,
Is love so bright and sunny
From which we all partake
When Lara, with her happy smile
Creates her personal gift,
Enabling us to walk that mile
In which we often need a lift.

So, as through dark and dreary days,
With husband worn and sick,
My sister often in a daze,
Hardly knowing which path to pick,
Lara’s bee will lead the way
To help her send her friends a smile
Which, in turn, will cheer her day,
As she walks this troubled mile.

May God bless you, Lara,
Even as you have blessed my sister,
And her very sick husband,
Both of whom have a very high
Interest in bees. Love, Orion

ARROGANCE TO ACCEPTANCE

2005-08-10T23:01:00.000-05:00

Arrogance died as Joseph applied
The mercies of God to sins of his brothers;
Is freedom denied where memory has died
To pain we have suffered through deeds of others?

Joseph now ruled where he had been schooled
To trust in God though he was in prison;
Is faith not so tooled that man is not fooled
By hardship in life as faith has arisen?

Be still in your heart and look for that part
That God has in mind for days in your life.
For faith’s great art is to know from the start
That there is great profit in all of our strife.

Be still and know that God loves us so
That He can make pain into unending pleasure;
His Spirit will show where we are to go
To inherit with joy the greatest of treasure.

We have a treasure beyond any measure
When we truly trust in God and man;
We cannot measure our heavenly treasure,
But God and man certainly can.

BOY’S TINKERTOYS

2005-02-14T23:16:00.000-06:00

Man and his tinkertoys!
Skyscrapers, tall and strong!
Imaginations of bigger boys
Challenge problems of housing throng.

Megalopolis spread!
Eating up farm land
Brings to us a certain dread
That spread out cities get that land.

Can we go “up” instead of “out”,
To save farm land to furnish food?
It is the future we think about,
And pray “no food” does not intrude!

Fancy prices buy the farms,
Spreading cities day by day;
We welcome them with open arms,
Thinking not of what we’ll pay.

So, tinkertoys, keep our boys
Building dreams toward the sky,
While farmers of the land rejoice
In growing food in good supply.

ABOVE WEST 84TH

2005-01-11T22:31:00.000-06:00

Here I sit above the street,
Watching cars and people pass,
Quite above the trials they meet
In the midst of life’s morass.

Some seem hurried as they move
Along West eighty-fourth;
Others seem more in the groove
With what life now brings forth.

I wonder why some look so sad,
As if life dealt a losing hand,
And others smile and look so glad
One would think they owned the land?

Some seem to have the look of pain
As worry shapes their wrinkled brow,
And others seem to walk on gain;
All their life a “Golden Cow”!

Is life unfair in what she gives;
Does she let favorite people win?
Or does luck hinge on how man lives,
Or simply what he’s involved in?

Happiness, divined by choice,
Is attitude we strive to build
Until it is an inner voice
Pronouncing peace that we have willed?

CHARACTER STUDY

2004-12-15T23:29:00.000-06:00

The character of man is seldom discerned
By looking at his clothes,
But much of his actual nature learned
By hearing what he knows.

It is also true that no man is wise
Simply because he is good at rhymes,
But rather more able to advise
If he is acquainted with most times.

What he has learned, plus what he has done,
Combine to build his knowledge;
Then people he joins in labor and fun,
May grant degrees not earned in college.

Great character is earned by strong outreaches,
Seeking to meet the needs of our brothers;
Without outreach, our character impeaches
The good reputation we might have with others.