Categories
Writing

Don’t Answer

The moment he calls

I want to be by his side

Like how a leash works…

Categories
Writing

Lake Michigan Winter Date

Crystal ice like shells

Once we fall through, won’t we freeze?

Scurry back laughing

Categories
Writing

In-Patients

Knock, hinges, then light

Gentle, cold touch as bill mounts

“like to go home please…”

Categories
Writing

Brings Him Glory

I couldn’t think of something more peaceful to do than sit on the grass in the sunlight and let my warmth and the temperature of the grass come to one stable level. It is even more than touching snow until fingers freeze just slightly. Like flow. The beautiful mornings are given to us by God and the perfect temperature is something set by the Lord. Even when we assume details that please us are too trivial for the Lord, remember that he made it so grass shows up as individual blades instead of one large patch of a waving piece of oxygenated plant. He detailed it so that grass is singular. So I must see the small pleasures as singular—a detail given to me, once again, by our true and living God. Because he is living he can also enjoy the fruits of his labor.

Whenever I feel warm I imagine that the atmosphere is giving me a hug, keeping me close and safe and comforted like a child. When it is cold I want to cry. And then both are love and beauty and detail from God and in all he is righteous.

Categories
Writing

This A.M.

Clouds move, but don’t pass

Clung to me with “I need you”

Darkened day and night

Categories
Writing

A Vow, Maintained

She told her father

But he couldn’t disannul.

Head hung, she went on.

Categories
Writing

God’s Mercy

If I had to choose,

Criticism than lashings.

Lashings than to die.

Categories
Poetry Writing

Romans 7:11

Thanking fading sins

Doubt of consequence is seeping in.

Each one shaking with feeling, but wouldn’t say, “And the commandment, which was ordained to life, I found to be unto death.”

The wind hinting-hurling at a tempest mind says to the emptiness in waiting…

Though it was to be filled with faith—

Being whole unknown to us—wholesomeness unknown to us also, “May I wonder?”

“For sin, taking occasion by the commandment deceived me, and by it slew me.”

Until, in some way worthy of your grace.

Your giving of it making it so.

May I believe there is nothing more to abhor of myself if you have found something worth loving?

Or have I once again shown my brazenness?

Categories
Poetry Uncategorized

Let It Not Be

The chosen ones made idols.

Statues of gold and genies right below the present, True and Living God.

Stay far from gold.

Whatever you should decide to arrive in, let it not be gold.

Too oft does gold stimulate hungry pupils readied with greedy hearts waiting to make of you a statue and symbol of meaning in their eyes.

A symbol of something foreboding. Coated completely in matte armor.

Turning shiny in the sunlight

Then back to its lusterless base.