Surrender

Sunday morning poetry. Church: words spoken to me, shared lovingly with you.
My second chance to shape my faith every Sunday for a year.

Geese flying south
migrating
do not avoid the task
serve thy spiritless soul.

Image result for geese migrating free images

Happiness is a state of mind one must continually reach for and fashion. Meditate and pursue worthy thoughts and battle the negativity of a dying world. Facing one’s reflection amounts to courage. Adversity defeats or grows character. Perseverance wins the race with encouragement. Peace resides in acceptance and love blossoms in pursuit of holiness.

Ecclesiastes 7:14 When times are good, be happy; but when times are bad, consider: God has made the  one as well as the other. Therefore, a man cannot discover anything about his future.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dance of the Potter’s wheel

Sunday morning poetry. Church: words spoken to me, shared lovingly with you.
My second chance to shape my faith every Sunday for a year.

I stand at the center
of a world gone awry
surrounded by words
of despondent grief

locked inside
cells of skin
waterproof
until the acrid tears

travel down this desolate road
secrets held close
best withheld to keep peace.
I live in a world of death.

My enemies
believe their story.
My life’s stream
dries up.

I am
my gift to You,
God. Throwing my words
down.

I am a broken pot
shards of clay
desiring healing
thrown down to mold.

Isaiah 64:7 There is no one who calls on Your name, Who arouses himself to take hold of You; For You have hidden Your face from us And have delivered us into the power of our iniquities. 8 But now, O LORD, You are our Father, We are the clay, and You our potter; And all of us are the work of Your hand. 9Do not be angry beyond measure, O LORD, Nor remember iniquity forever; Behold, look now, all of us are Your people.…

Job 10:3 Does it please you to oppress me, to spurn the work of your hands, while you smile on the plans of the wicked?

Jeremiah 31:9 They will come with weeping; they will pray as I bring them back. I will lead them beside streams of water on a level path where they will not stumble…

A Savior walks by my side.

Angels around us

Sunday morning poetry. Church: words spoken to me, shared lovingly with you.
My second chance to shape my faith every Sunday for a year.

first glance I saw another angel and pausing i saw an extraordinary person

Man is raw without thought.
Sharpened by chisels
scraping away
to find the form
layered beneath rubble.

Refined by wisdom
of ages past
both evil and goodness
standing back to back
afraid to hear the other.

Proverbs 27:17 As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another.

Coloring paradise

Sunday morning poetry. Church: words spoken to me, shared lovingly with you.
My second chance to shape my faith every Sunday for a year.

Time began
the story goes
to some a fable
others truth so bold
two joined

together with God
happily roaming
touching color
feeling life’s breath
a rival serpent

intrudes the children’s souls
famished earth cries out
ancient prophetic promises
ushers in their Savior
Jesus, King of the Jews

suffering a time
blood flowing sacrifice
washing souls
of believers forever
no greater gift of love

heralds in Israel’s King
a generation’s
eyes fixed towards
unfolding clouds bending
knees below.

Pray! rolling
away the suffocating stones.
In community we share
laying down our lives
our heart’s life river flows.

There is no man on earth, no matter how he appears to be a god, who can do what God has been doing for thousands of years since Jesus’s death and resurrection. No man. Do not believe those who come preaching as Jesus did. Their words empty.

Their vision futile
their ego’s hunger satisfied
their power, a master
over the masses buried in grief.

My favorite pastime is to collect stones. At the beach, along a worn path or finding, while digging my garden’s dirt. Symbolically I roll away hatred and lay down, in a meaningful way, a reminder of the ever changing ending to my story bought with forgiveness.

The grief I still bear
the hope I walk towards slowly unfolds
the joy I yearn for satisfies.

Jesus rolled away a stone. The stone of hard hearts. No one could see His innocence, the love shown for creation, His weeping over our arrogance. Somehow we imagined we would do better, claiming God was at fault.

Slowly transformed hearts will bring the mountain down to greet our warn feet. Let us sing and exalt, our appetite for God flourish, not hidden but glowing for our neighbor to witness. Do not life’s bittersweet symphony break us. Travel on.

Brutal empires will be smashed
trumpets blowing
The Most High re-creating
heaven and earth
no more sorrow, no more tears.

 

Gospel of John 10:9 “I am the door; if anyone enters through Me, he will be saved, and will go in and out and find pasture. 10″The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly. 11″I am the good shepherd; the good shepherd lays down His life for the sheep.…

With no further ado, bow

Eight years is a long time to be boxed in by walls. Forty-nine years is even longer.

Losing a loved one is difficult.
When the culprit is suicide you are a foreigner.
That you remains a memory.

Moving on becomes a battle.
The walk is painful.
Legs are weighed down and moving is impossible.

Choosing to live is an obstacle.
Thoughts of ending your life becomes reality.
Numbness shows in your face.

Then, one day arrives, and the sun shines, and your eyes adjust.
Slowly your heart allows
Eyes gazing the distance.

Tears stream.
You are afraid to catch them.
You let the person go.

For too long I have been locked away, inside a dungeon. I have tortured myself long enough.I choose to believe I am worthy of life. I am loved. I have a purpose. I struggle but the struggle does not define who I am. I am nobody and I am somebody. I choose to be.

John 10:10…I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.

I believe in sin and that belief  brought me to my knees. And on my knees I found love, grace and peace. In humbleness i serve others and not myself. I love everyone as much as I love me. I feel pain because I am not hugging my brother, but I am. His smile lives on.

I allow the ocean waves to rock me and not threaten. I allow the bird’s song to be sweet and not a call to be earth. I allow me to be seen. I allow the rain’s cleansing. I…

Now I adore my life
With the Bird, the abiding Leaf,
With the Fish, the questing Snail,
And the Eye altering all;
And I dance with William Blake
For Love, for Love’s sake.
Once More, the Round (1964)