Chill

My head encounters changing spaces

Bits of silver rush, blowing my mind in the quiet gale

What will I think tomorrow

Summer Morning

A memory from somewhere here and gone

Lime sherbet raspberries and cream

Held forever eternal like a love song

Summer morning…

Haiku

In eagerness hearty soil shows it’s worth

Northerly gusts defy nature’s pulse

Knotty roots push tender shoots fiercely sunward

 

Haiku

Notes open and close like Pandora’s Box

Joy in praise to God

Grace abounds as we seek His face

Straights and Creeks

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A lunar pull apart.

Born of self-same shelf.

Dig deep, Ye Pictorial Builders,

Ye Leatherneck Drivers!

One, young living coral.

Another, ancient decayed pluff.

May you tender the shelf.

Let your lines be straight.

Above the orb on reef and marsh

Life and death flow in sync.

   *

Dedicated to

RSD III

Photographer: Tanya Ackerman

“Beware the Hands of The Wizard”: In Response to: Buji-nin – Photo Seeking Caption

Hands hold the vessel ancient, black

Set upon with dragons, bowl to stack.

Its wizard pours out wishes, non shall lack.

Beware his brew, you’ll not come back.

Canticle II

My soul thirsts for the living God. The deer seeks out water brooks.

My most inner self longs for you, thirsts for the living God.

His mountains of stone like Him stand. His rapids and floods cover me.

My poured out soul cannot contain such high thought as these.

Deep calls to deep in holy noise. I fall to my face in worship.

a psalm of David…transposed…

Canticle

My pen is bent to glory. I address my verses to the King.

He anointed me with grace. My pen bends to a noble theme.

Your dwelling places are lovely. Your throne is beyond our comprehension.

Truly it is God who saves me. He is my rock and my salvation.

a psalm of David…transposed…

 

Spring Bombs

Appearing like yuletide balls

Spring bombs

Sun against lunar pull exerting

 

***

Converging in the heavens

Collecting, growing

Storm, wind, hail, destruction, sure

***

Her beauty is the moon

Always moving

Best when Easter comes early

 

 

 

Coming on Christmas

I love Carley Simon’s song “River”. In that wistful ballad she soulfully croons in her pure, true soprano that “it’s coming on Christmas, they’re cutting down trees, putting up reindeer, singing songs of joy and peace.” She goes on, “wishing” she “had a river to skate away on.”  

As I gaze at this magical photograph of my tiny granddaughter enveloped in the shimmer of her Christmas tree, my thoughts turn to years and Christmases gone by-those of my childhood and those of my own children at her age. All over the world and in our own homes it is coming on Christmas. We are cutting down trees., putting up reindeer and singing songs of joy and peace. Traditions we hold dear, love and cherish from generation to generation. 

However; instead of wishing for a river to skate away on, I wish to have a star as my plumb line to keep me focused on the truth of Coming on Christmas. The One who continues to bring joy and peace.