Somewhere, hiding in my bones,
My blood vessels.
My heart, my guts
Is the real me.
Am I a beast struggling to escape?
A gentle giant yearning for peace?
An artist creating her own world?
Or a minuscule creature, hiding?
I hear a prayer
When the wind blows,
The birds sing
Children laugh
He answers in a touch of wind
A brush against my arm
The kiss of my husband
And the joys of friendship
Deep within lies my secrets
My hopes and dreams,
For even as I grow old,
I live for another day.
The sun arose and filled my eyes
With heavenly glory personified
Tears down my face did solemnly pour
I stood transfixed, and begged for more
Golden rays lit up the new morn sky
With brilliant spectacle for the eye
With mouth agape I did profoundly stare
And wonder what God’s doing up there
To me He gave such wondrous gift
That my poor spirit felt tremendous lift
To my knees I should have promptly fallen
But I could not move despite hearing Him callin’
Frozen in place with feet on the soil
I praised the Lord’s amazing toil
For humankind: to free our souls
From worries: to give us lofty goals
Reaching deeply into my empty purse
I feared God’s wrath, or maybe worse
Instead my heart did nearly burst
With joy: I knew I was not cursed
The sun arose and filled my eyes
With heavenly glory personified
Things have been rough this year.
My wife died giving birth to a stillborn child.
I lost my job to a younger man.
The earth shook and things went wild.
Alcohol became my best friend
Keeping me warm on cold winter nights.
Teeth fell out and tongue turned brown
And vagrants challenged me to fights.
One rainy night, down on my luck,
No nickel to my tarnished name,
I stumbled into an empty house
Where I could hide in shame.
I searched through cabinets covered in dust
And looked under every loose board
Hoping to find a morsel to eat,
A blanket, a shirt, anything to add to my hoard.
Upstairs in what was a little boy’s room
A magical thing I did find.
Buried beneath a pile of rags,
A book to challenge my mind.
A stubble of candle sat on a shelf
And so I quickly lit it with glee.
By the flickering light I eagerly read.
A realization soon came to me.
The story spoke of a man long ago
Who owned very little but love.
He roamed his world bringing peace,
Goodwill, a message from God above.
I am like He, I began to think,
With nothing to lose nor fear.
Resolved to act I fell asleep
Like a child, both loved and dear.
When the new sun brightened the world
I stumbled, confusedly, into the hall.
For there surrounded in unearthly glow
Hovered the Man to whom I did fall.
“My Lord, forgive this humble man
who long ago fell out of Your grace.
Today I beg you, I am renewed
And ready to take my place.”
A breeze arose, tore off my rags
And dried the tears from my eyes.
Gentle fingers brushed my cheek
And lifted away my cries.
That was the day when I took control
And rejoined the human race.
From that day forward I was His man
And walked with smiling face
.
I now believe that my wife and child
Truly did not die in vain,
For their sacrifice brought me back to God
And to feel His love again.
A mighty hand reached to the earth
and fingered fractured soil so fine
particles of dust, of no worth,
trickled like lonely sands of time.
Tears trickled through a curtain torn
showering grace as before the fall.
With tiny steps, the world reborn
trumpets in harmonious call.
New lives spring forth with joyful cry
in clear and confidant voices.
As one all speak to beautify
their world of wondrous choices.
Tears poured upon the thirsty land
bringing relief from loneliness.
Blossoms burst forth upon demand
blanketing wanton carelessness.
No longer parched, the land doth give
joy-filled colors to opened eyes,
and offered gifts so all may live
without sin and empty lies.
A mighty hand reached to the earth
and dug the enriched soil so fine
and sighed, for it had earned its worth,
erasing the mistakes of time.
Coins tumble, tumble
out of hand
a mixture of polished metal
silver and copper
jumbled, jumbled
deep into the recesses
of comfy couch
mistakes made buried deep
lie in wait
amid cushions covered
in brawny plaids
speak of treasures
locked in fertile sand
surprises in the soil
awake, awake thanks to
spring’s sprinkled bath
wash away layered dirt
open panes for light
to raise
green, green carpets
softly felt
reaching down with fingers
strong and stronger
treasures scooped
enjoyed with joyous
yelps and yells
glorious bursts explode
dazzling, dazzling eyes
fall’s ritual cleansing
wondrous wonders uncovered
fill the hand, the land
with blossoms of glory
begin with tumble
of jumbled coins
lost, then found
Success is an uneasy journey
It depends upon hard work and determination.
Passion supported by the willingness to take risks,
But more than anything, it means standing tall
When others are waiting for you to fail.
Success must be rooted firmly in the soil
So that its branches can reach for the sky,
And its Leaves can rustle in the wind,
Reminding us that it is not a destination,
But a guided journey.
Success won’t magically appear in the morning
It takes days and nights of
Pushing through boundaries,
Facing challenges and never quitting.
It is worth every tear shed,
Every moment of doubt.
Success isn’t measured by wealth or fame,
But on the difference one creates
As they follow their dreams,
Chase after their goals,
And the pursuit of fulfillment.
Success is bolstered by the growth and evolution,
Of our minds, bodies, and souls,
By the smallest increments,
No matter how bumpy the road,
Nor how many obstacles unfold.
Success is about rising when we fall,
Standing tall when others scoff,
Having the courage to take risks,
Believing in yourself, when it’s hard,
And when it seems way too easy.
Strive for greatness,
And never give up on your dreams,
No matter how many times you fall.
Some measure of success is within reach,
As long as you are willing to chase it.
If not for an almighty God
who could have created the earth?
Speak to me not of inventors,
researchers, scientists.
Their works are both
improvement and ruination.
Humans, thanks to God,
have the ability to think,
yet we frequently do not.
Sunday rolls around and we find
excuses
We run hither and yon,
never stopping for even one moment
to give thanks to the One
who breathed life into our lungs,
blessed us,
filled us with promise of accomplishment,
then set us free to stumble our way
through life,
learning, hopefully, from errors.
All the while He sits in heaven
smiling down at His creations
waiting for the day when His loves wake up
and then take time
to sing His glorious name.
He welcomes even the unrepentant
saying, “Come here, my child.”
I, for one, will cuddle next to His chest
and cry tears of joy.
God is my reason for being.
I must never forget.
Words and Thoughts 