Wednesday, December 27, 2017

WHEN THE CELEBRATIONS CEASE

Inspired by the Story of Luke 1 & 2, this writing makes parallels with our world today...

WHEN THE CELEBRATIONS CEASE


When the birth of a joyful season gives way to the next cold winter day
When the courage to live your dreams and hopes are deflated by King-sized anguish and wonderings
When the diligently searched for baby-perfect beauty is adored and worshipped, but then disappears
When the certainty of the path winds to feel like one of exile
When the burdens of life become the most significant events in the world  
When future hope and comfort are destroyed by trickery and fury
When gifts of kindness, joy, and peace become lost in boxed thinking and wrapped in paperwork.
When special care and wise words for the Mary and Josephs, the poor, the rejected, the homeless, the powerfully hungry fades to the voice of the power hungry
When the joy and warmth eye-witnessed in embracing loved ones dulls to cold receptions
When the prophetic past conceived in us is obscured by fear raising voices
When the ordinary moments of a holiday shepherded by the star struck spectacular muddies to a dark, lonely journey home

We still need to allow the weeping and mourning to turn to dancing
We still need to listen to the dreams that direct our lives
We still need to find significance in the beginning of small things
We still to be guided by the Spirit of angels in real-world clothes
We still need to escape to find our purposed journeys
We still need to serve the secret fight within against supremacy and status
We still need to liberate the recorded Word
We still need to proclaim the message of peace and goodwill towards men on earth

We still need to seek saving graces
We still need to rediscover this powerful narrative of His heavenly birth

We still need the whispered cries of a Savior to sink deep in our souls



Monday, December 11, 2017

MEET ME ON THE PORCH

Meet me on the porch.
We'll ponder our words,
Search our wondering hearts, 
Linger longer together,
And slow this dizzy life. 

Let's search the hickory limbs 
For baby raccoons tumbling over mama
And robins songs bathing in bushes nearby
While the moonlight crawls up the sky.

Rest your lemonade on the rocker 
And silence the world's noise to
Coneflowers flowing in the breeze
And cars' dust shadowing the lane.

Meet me on the porch.
We'll ponder our words,
Search our wondering hearts, 
Linger longer together,
And slow this dizzy life. 


We make a wish list of dreams 
From our hopes for tomorrow. 
Talking too much, maybe not enough,
About the cares of yesterday.

Our slowed down rocking 
Teases life to stop for a second.
We step off life's merry-go-round 
To come sit quiet together, so













Meet me on the porch.
We'll ponder our words,
Search our wondering hearts, 
Linger longer together,
And slow this dizzy life.  

The dim lights near the door 
Beckon us to stay just a bit more.
The fans' whir keep us cool.
There's no place better to ask for.

When the words from our lips 
No longer light the sky 
And a few simple lullabies
Don't bring sweet dreams at night.


You should meet me on the porch.
We'll ponder our words,
Search our wondering hearts, 
Linger longer together,
And slow this dizzy life.

It's the long porch sitting
When we've lost what we were getting,
That heals the hurting heart
And braces us for a new start.

Pondering our words on the porch,
Staring at pillars for strength,
Sheltered from worries of the world
We come home once again, so 

Meet me on the porch.
We'll ponder our words,
Search our wondering hearts, 
Linger longer together,
And slow this dizzy life. 


It's a long porch, so take a sit
And listen to the muse of a friend.
There's chairs for a whole family
And even quite a few misfits.

We'll sing your heart a song,
And we'll tarry right along,
Maybe make some rights from wrongs
When we gather 'round the porch.

So,  meet me on the porch.
We'll ponder our words,
Search our wondering hearts, 
Linger longer together,
And slow this dizzy life. 













Wednesday, December 6, 2017

CHANGES BRING CHANCES

I wrote this poem for my sister who claims she loves my 
poetic versing and wished I would write a poem for her.

Change Brings Chances

New winds sail across the waves
Like a breeze lifts wings in flight.

A resting head on a shoulder
Dreams of sunshine tomorrow.

Tears blur the lines on the page
But clear the heart of pain’s shadows.

Cause change brings chances,
No dice roll odds to lay down,

Just boot trekking dew mist ground,
Searching a new path to be found.


http://carolaround.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/04/morning-mist-breeze-cool-jungle-mist-morning-path-wild.jpg



Tuesday, December 5, 2017

WHAT'S BIRTHING IN YOU?



Feeling the birthing pains...

When there's a stirring of the leaves and the flicker of a flame in the heart that begins to howl like the wind and roar like a lion, your soul battens down the hatches to weather the changes coming. 

Living the same won't be the same living in the days to come.

It's the purposed knowing deep inside of the Spirituals sung on the cotton fields that may be disguised but refuses to be beckoned away.

It's when the dry, weary, empty, cracking souls bleed blood red like falling leaves from barren trees that the harsh, cold, numb reality of tradition must flesh anew a birth.

What's birthing in you?

We faintly hear the whisper to believe what's growing inside. 

We might begin to squirm with the subtle moving inside for the anguish of deserted dreams.

We might stop breathing for fear of trusting unchartered plans.

We might spin dizzy at hearing warrior voices slinging shame and delivering glory.



What's birthing in you delivering?

We might feel the expanding weight of the burden of traveling an offbeat path to an unfamiliar haven like the carrying of expectations of the whole world on our backs.

But the strong beating of a vulnerable heart clings to staying steady and feeling the imminent swelling of hope inside.


And harbored regrets dissipate like a wind-swept maned Palomino freed from saddle and spurs.


And we welcome the red-cross relief that gives struggling self-sufficiency a sense of purpose. 


What difference does your birthing make?

When your heart's sound check is the prelude to your life's reality check.

When your single pinging piano melody joins the orchestra. 

When your newly birthed heart awakens a husband, a home, a generation.

When the birthed baby resting at Mary's chest becomes your Great I AM.

Your birthing has made a difference.

Wednesday, November 29, 2017

OUR COUNTRY SONG

When your husband asks you to write him a song, and it comes in the early morning hours.

OUR COUNTRY SONG 

There's a way to write a love song
Without the whiskey and the whine
And people crying all the time
Built on a life that’s holding strong
Keeping the fire burning all along
We may not make it famous
But our love writes some good lines
I gave you my heart right from the start
You're my Tim and I'm your Faith
And this is our country song


Take my tea and your lemonade
To that old rocking porch
Share a story of the babies
When they rode a rocking horse

Walk the beach hand in hand
Pulling secrets from the sand
Remember all those places
  Water erased our footprint traces

There's a way to write a love song
Without the whiskey and the whine
And people crying all the time
Built on a life that’s holding strong
Keeping the fire burning all along
We may not make it famous
But our love writes some good lines
I gave you my heart right from the start
You're my Tim and I'm your Faith
And this is our country song

No matter where we go
Got a song playing on the radio
Dancing to our own rhythm
Making it close and slow


You can stumble down the stairs
And fumble through your words
But you won't walk out of my life
Cause your always right here in my heart


There's a way to write a love song
Without the whiskey and the whine
And people crying all the time
Built on a life that’s holding strong
Keeping the fire burning all along
We may not make it famous
But our love writes some good lines
I gave you my heart right from the start
You're my Tim and I'm your Faith
And this is our country song

No time for regrets
Or carrying what ifs
We better pick up the bucket
And start marking up that list

Light the stars with our smiling eyes
Stare at me deeper; stare at you longer
Lift our cheeks and wrinkled eyes
Match the shine from the skies.


There's a way to write a love song

Without the whiskey and the whine
And people crying all the time
Built on a life that’s holding strong
Keeping the fire burning all along
We may not make it famous
But our love writes some good lines
I gave you my heart right from the start
You're my Tim and I'm your Faith
And this is our country song



Yeah, this is our country song.

Wednesday, November 15, 2017

TIME---A SACRED THING












Time--A Sacred Thing


Sitting still and quiet,
Empty folded hands,
Legs stretched out loose,
Crossing hearts
Sharing this sacred thing

Deep inside numb tears lose
Holding churning emotions still,
Draped in the will
To get these moments right
Sharing this sacred thing

Heavy expectation hangs
With hearts that wish
The days to keep turning,
Trapping our will
To share this sacred thing

Without our willful nods,
The clock keeps tap ticking
As the chasm widens
Between here and now
And time and eternity

Sun beams saturate the hard floor
To soften misty eyes, wondering if
Our close distance to eternity
Could pause this living
To share more of this sacred thing



DRESS FOR THE WEATHER

The bright sunshine didn't creep through the gap in the curtains today. Beyond the curtain, the grey sky ocean view made me think col...