New Day Delivers

bubbles of brilliant blue

burst through the blossom-like

clouds

bringing much yearned-for

brightness to an

otherwise gloomy world

shrugging off stormy thoughts

seers sought soft,

sumptuous caresses

strips of comfort

seeping into the marrow

of the heart

comfort casually ceases

to tempt the carefree

cajoling them into

caroling loudly

coronation carols of the

newborn day

floating ferociously among

the now-frivolous clouds

freeborn fools giggle

with felt delight

first-time believers in

the flight of the soul

rejoice riotously with

royal revelation

as reborn receivers

rise with rejuvenated wings

weightless, wish-filled

centers recalibrated

Christmas Thoughts   Let us put Christ back in Christmas, shall we?Shine with His love for all the world to see.We’ll be the beacons of light and joy,Bring good wishes instead of a toy.  Brighten the season with inner glow,Strong enough that it will surely showOur belief in the Lord and His loveShining on us from heaven above.  Put away the tinsel, silver trim,Red ribbon and lights that don’t dim.Pray for peace all over our big earth,And wait, for the day or our Lord’s birth.  Dedicate our time to gentle ways,Praising the Lord Christ all of our days.We’ll speak of miracles, large and small,People blessed who answered the Lord’s call  Working with the homeless and the lost,Ignoring cold and personal cost.Praise Him daily in jubilant song.Offer Him our thanks all the day long.  We’ll be the beacons of light and joy,Carrying His love instead of a toy,Shine with Christ’s love for you and for me.Let us put Christ back in Christmas, shall we

Christmas Letter

Miracle of birth, one special night

Every knee bent down; eyes shone so bright

Rejoiced as glorious angels sang out

Restful repose enveloped all about

Yearnings fulfilled with the Savior’s birth

Counselor child; marvelous, wondrous worth

Hark, ye citizens, to news of great joy

Rewards to come, thanks to this baby boy

Invoke God’s love, through the Christmas story

Shout of salvation, reachable glory

Treasures at hand, and blessings awaited

Magical, mystical, event fated

Amazement, revelation, and delight

Savior, Counselor, miraculous sight

The Meaning of Christmas

the angels sang a lullaby

the night that Christ was born

in chorus of sweet harmony

they sang  upon that morn

the Magi came from far and wide

to worship at His feet

they knelt and prayed right by His side

and vowed of Him to speak

the shepherds gasped in awe and fear

for Christ had come that day

to bring a message all must hear

before they fall astray

a star shone bright up in the sky

above His tiny head

and peace to all it seemed to cry

while He slept snug in bed

and so, dear friends, let us all fall

upon our knees and pray

for we must answer Christ’s call

rejoice in Him today

Holy Time

 there is only here and nowand the once was and the soon to bethe should be, the could be, the might bejoined together, past, present, and futureblending into seamless timebeginning at the beginningstretching off into the eternitymarching in a straight linefrom time before all records were keptpointing to time unknown dropped in, snuggled in, squeezed inhuman beings alter the universeirrevocablyjumping barriersleaping across boundariesin pursuit of dreamsquests for an unholy grailchasing illusive butterflies of chancethat change predetermined destiniesaltering time forevermore some keeping meticulous trackof minutesdaysmonthsyears while others intentionally forget the doneglossing over the finishedas if brushing off fliesfor by shedding the pastthe future liesuntarnishedunblemished shining bright as the star that ledthe Magi to Bethlehemin search ofthe One who would bethe only here and now

Holiday Blues

         

What do you tell the children

who find no quarters under their

pillows – the missing gift of the

tooth fairy – when the proper

homage has been paid?

What do you tell the sad little girl

whose stocking is empty

Christmas morn – after leaving the

last cookie and a small cup of

milk – the thanks for the Santa

who never came?

What do you tell the young boy

who has no basket to leave on

the table – decorated with colorful

paper eggs and filled with shredded

newspaper – and all that’s inside are

a few stale jelly beans?

What do you tell the teenager

whose fifteenth birthday came and

went – with no party, no gifts, no

happy times – to mark the majestic

coming of age?

What do you tell the lonely ones

who never get a heart-shaped card

or candies – a sign of friendship and

love – who had only wished that just

one person would care?

What do you tell the little ones

who have no feast to cram into

their mouths – in honor of those who

survived – and so bite into stale

peanut butter sandwiches?

What do you tell all the unloved

children, young and old, who rise

day after day – wanting nothing more

than a gentle hug – and receive

harsh words instead?

For some children have everything

they could ever want while others

have nothing but emptiness – no

hope for more – the rejoicing washes

over, leaving not a drop of joy.

Let us cry for them

And then pick up our mantle

Of gentleness and offer whatever we can,

Whatever small bit of joy

Lurking in cabinets and pantries

Deliver it to a charity

Where we can witness the joy

That abounds in simple giving.

A Simple Request

            

Wishes wasted on what-nots and

Wing-dings wear away in time,

While fabulous fantasies of futures

filled with wondrous windows of

opportunities allow for nothing

but disappointments

Instead innocence insulates believers,

inspiring individuals to dream devilish

dances, daydreams of defiance, dramatic

challenges coursing through lives

unbroken, undefiled by demons of despair,

hearts healed and whole withstanding

weather-related attacks against

conformity.

Dream on, dreamers.  Dance with the stars,

sending sparks spiraling through the universe,

understandably lighting lustrous lives

leavened by luminous love,

spirited souls searching for something

of substance, something to shatter

defamations and destroy doubters.

Give me guidance, goodness, graciousness,

generosity that I may share my successes, spreading

goodwill and good cheer whenever my tired feet tread.

Help hinder the disbelievers, doubters, nay-sayers,

never noticing nothing that threatens to toss around

their firmly held convictions, no matter how mundane,

how mutinous.

  

Grant me the ability to appease, appreciate, applaud

those whose talents top mine, to see the dedication

and hard work woven into each wondrously crafted

creation, recognizing remarkable determination to succeed.

 Allow me to march with those who mark places,

who work with the angels, who weave satisfying stories

and craft perfect poems, earning the everlasting

satisfaction of success.

These things I ask.

A Huge Loss

                  

What do you do when your eyes dim

and gray clouds cover the world

and you live to read and write and

admire the photos of your grandchildren?

What do you do with your time when

it hurts to read and the words dance

in crazy swirls that hop across the page

and you have stacks of books to read?

What do you do when you feel like

crying about all the lost joys that

you most recently discovered, knowing

that, in time, they will fade away?

What do you do when you want to write

but the words drown in a sea of gray

sinking to the bottom of a speckled pit

and fall out of your mind like dandruff?

What do you do when the world you used

to see disappears behind a distorting mist

that threatens to take away your freedom,

your driver’s license, your mobility?

What do you do when hope seems to have

abandoned you in your time of need and

when you are too young to fall apart and

there seems to be only a steeper fall ahead?

You cry, weep, moan and seek the company

of family and friends who will listen and

understand how truly great the loss is

and offer sympathy without comment.

You get down on your knees and pray

to the Lord of all, to the God of mercy,

and ask Him to give you a few more good

years of loving the printed page.

You think of all the good years that have

come and gone, all the places seen and

friends loved and family times shared,

and rejoice in the Lord’s blessings bestowed.

A Dream of Peace

              

I dreamt that I traversed the sands of time

to a place mysterious and sublime.

Where gigantic trees with branches stout,

safely nestled all feathered friends about,

providing shelter from many foe,

yet allowing freedom to come and go.

Silky soft leaves whose gentle caress

becalms restless souls, soothes with fine finesse

young and old alike; no bias here

where all live in peace for many a year.

Through the sands a winding river ran

giving sustenance to both beast and man.

Surprisingly blue with not a trace

of sinister longings upon its face.

It speaks of a sweet love; it calls to me,

“Step right in,” it says, “ and I’ll set you free

from all that ails; as well sin and pain.

You have nothing to lose, but much to gain.”

With tremulous step I slowly crept

into her warm, comforting arms.  I slept.

Or thought I did, for there soon appeared

hosts of angels. I panicked, afeared

of my demise. But to my surprise

they lifted me on high with joyous cries.

The night did end. My dream soon left.

The suffering world found me quite bereft

and yearning for that heavenly place

whose welcoming arms did me quick embrace.

One thing alone I brought home with me:

knowledge that all men could soar high and free

seeking truth, wisdom, righteousness, and grace.

making earth a truly heavenly place.

The Gift

there are days when I

yearn for silence

no revving of motors or

screeching of tires

no planes lowering their

landing gear

as they begin their descent

no loud rap music

vibrating my windows with

its repetitive bass beats

no leaf-blower roar

or vacuum-cleaner whine

the vile swearing of the

teens next door

never greeting my ears

the phone, mercifully,

does not ring

I revel in this precious

moment

a gift of stolen time

as if the world stopped its

persistent revolution

simply for my enjoyment

when those seconds tick away,

and the silence suddenly ends,

I feel as if I witnessed

a miracle

a rebirth