Felisa M. (Hervey) Dyrud felissa copy.jpg

Felisa lives in Cambridge, MA with husband Peter. She holds a Bachelor of Science degree in the Humanities from the U.S. Air Force Academy and Master of Arts in English from the University of Massachusetts, Boston.


Foreshadowed in the glaring, cursing clouds
I saw my Love, I saw his lifeblood poured
out on the thirsty ground like scarlet rain,
eyes spilling love on ridiculing crowds,
on blinded wielder of God-murdering sword
on wilt-eyed mother writhing in her baby’s pain
and scuttling gambler who triumphant rose
to sieze the Lord’s strange earth-worn clothes.
While, scourged by nine-fanged hounds of Roman guards
brow torn, adorned with crown of thorny shards
he heard the drowning swamp of mocking cries
he saw and loved them from his blood-shot eyes,
choked out for them a wrenching prayer aloud…
Broad midnight struck, a heaving quake. The shroud.


You might, if you’ve lost a Love to gritty nails
of Death, and if you watched him writhe while they,
unseeing, scraped away his love-spent life;
you might then recognize the haunting jails
wallpapered with the horror scenes, replay-
ing and replaying; you might know what it’s like
to be an empty hole without his face,
to be a gaping mouth, its teeth erased.
Dazed trudging. Suddenly ‘home.’ It’s not the same
though. So is… nothing. (You remember too.)
Do you sweep, mend socks, try to eat a name-
less tasteless meal brought by a well-meaning friend?
Do you weep, try to stop, curl up to freeze the cruel
impassive world? Do you SCREAM tear out your hair
run to his favorite haunts? But he’s not, not there.


Another morning yelled. Be quiet, I thought,
don’t come. But grief-numbed and lids heavy, I
still longed to do love’s part. At least go through
the motions. Spill more tears with spices. So
I turned my taut steps grave-ward, rain-spent eyes
dull-fixed, trying idly to tidy the soul-fought
commotion of hands that gave the future back
to beggars, lepers, maniacs—now… slack.
But wait. Is that the one? Began to run
up to the cave. Its door was clear, no stone,
no guards, where was he?! Sudden panic stunned
me as I stepped inside to see a lone
stranger, quartz-clad, beaming past my fear
to shock me more: Why seek the living here?

Other Poems

A Psalm of Life

And Can it Be

Above the Hills of Time

And Can it Be

Be Thou My Vision

Cast out Again

Christ Arose!

Christ Beside Me

Christ the Lord is Risen Today!

Come Thou Long Expected Jesus

For the Beauty of the Earth

Found in Translation


from The Prelude

God of Grace and God of Glory

Hark the Hearld Angel Sings

He Leadeth Me

Holy Spirit, Truth Divine

Hymn of the Evening

I Surrender All

Joy to the World

Like a River Glorious


My Faith Looks Up to Thee

National Hymn - God of Our Fathers

O Love That Will Not Let Me Go

O, The Deep, Deep, Love of Jesus

Parable of Immortality


Sweet Hour of Prayer

The Battle Hymn of the Reformation

The Building of the Ship

The Church's One Foundation

The Landing of the Pilgrims

This Present Crisis

Three Days

We've A Story to Tell to The Nations

john_bevere.jpg"The most successful churches and ministries I have seen today are reaching out to raise up the youth. Bob and Rose Weiner are having a direct impact on the next generation and youth all over the world are being trained to be leaders and world changers for Christ. Through their ministry, you will be charged and encouraged to reach out to the ‘sons and daughters’ spoken of by the Prophet Joel."

--John Bevere - Author / Speaker - Messenger International

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