Death on the Road

I met death today,

Standing on the side of the road.

He looked at me with eyes of amber,

And said "I'm not here for you."

Instead "The World is so beautiful...

That I take just one moment to experience it.

So when it's all over I can remind man,

Why life was worth while. 

Photo Credit Pinterest 

Applesauce

My mother made applesauce,

With fruit fresh from the tree.

Crisp and biting the smell conjured up,

The season's makeup in a moment.

Golden leaves 

and ghostly branches,

The old river 

and Thanksgiving Day.

Moth balled sweaters, 

Hot chocolate foam.

Bright white full moons and 

the cozy shuttering of windows.

...

Warm gloves,

Dried root cellar vegetables,

Window frost,

...

A breezy afternoon full of colors 

and the rain.

The apples filled the kitchen with a warm whispering steam,

And my nose itched from spices and soap.

Those were the happiest days,

Applesauce days...

...mid Autumn. 

Photo Credit: Jean Smith - Pinterest

Poet's Mind

I've a poet's mind, 

In a body burdened by the modern ideal. 

Rather...

Give me ocean waves and garden paths,

Give me dappled sun and love that lasts.

A swallow's call in the early morn,

And the sweet silence of a summer's eve.

The salt of rain upon my brow, 

And star filled midnights that breath a wish.

A blade of grass and spider's web,

The heartbeat of a love beneath my ear.

The gentle rise of a soft red sun,

The sudden rupture of a silent storm.

A whispered poem and dew dappled lawn,

And the first breath of Spring within long waiting lungs. 

Give me the world in all its minute,

For my mind is made of existence and moments most dear. 

Photo Credit: Pinterest

A Personal Valley

I recently experienced a bit of poetic irony in my life. And, oh, how I "loved" it.

Not five minutes after I posted my last essay, "Bad Days," on this blog, my life hit the skids. Now, before everyone panics and starts asking me what horrible ordeal I went through, let me clear some thing up. In the grand scheme of the universe, the skid that my life hit was not overly terrible. I am still physically healthy, my family is all intact, and my house is still standing. But I wasn't expecting the skid that I hit and it threw me off balance.

Five minutes after I posted "Bad Days," my daily routine was thrown out the window. I, like every other human, am a creature of habit, I need my life to be somewhat orderly, with something resembling a schedule in my daily life. And recently that just hasn't been possible. Everywhere I turned, a new and unexpected wrench is thrown into the works: I was asked to work a lot of extra shifts, a missions trip I'm going on is happening soon and I'm not prepared, I'm trying to keep up with two blogs on a semi-regular basis, my weekly commitments keep getting rescheduled, and to top it off the weather in my part of the world has been terrible recently. While none of these are terrible, I didn't see them coming and they frustrated me.

As I was stewing in my frustration last week, I began to think - mainly about how crummy I felt and how nice it would be if my schedule could get back on track. But besides that I had a realization. I had been so focused on how crazy my life had been and how stressful each subsequent day was that I had completely forgotten my own advice. In the midst of my stress, I neglected to see that I had entered a valley. I walked right into it without seeing it and then proceeded to get angry when my life wasn't going the way I wanted it to. I stood at the lowest point I could find and shouted my frustration that I wasn't on top of a mountain. My anger clouded my vision so much that I forgot I was not alone it this most recent valley. If I had only looked next to me, I would have seen God waiting at my side, just waiting for me to ask for a helping hand. I made the mistake of shouting at God instead of asking for his help. The harder I tried to climb out of the valley by myself, the deeper it got. The deeper it got, the angrier I got at God. But all the while I just needed to remember that he's always there.

I cannot put into words how humbled I was by the realization of my mistake. How could I have forgotten my own advice so fast?  Why had I gotten so angry? There was nothing to do but let go of my stress and let God carry me to the closest mountain. I wish my vision had cleared sooner, but because it didn't God was able to show me how much I screw up on a daily basis and demonstrate his love for me. He used a valley to teach me a valuable lesson. The hardest climb up a mountain can reveal the most beautiful view from the top, but you can only get there by being carried by a wonderful loving God.

Frost

The frost upon my window dances oh so fine,
Like silver strings of winter and fair rings of twine.
Shining in the sunlight shimmering by the moon,
Light as air carried on the chill skies tune.

White and pure down they fall,
Heaping in snow mounds ten feet tall.
Gliding over tree and house and land,
Crystal and cold coming down in a long strand.

Upon the freshly fallen snow let us see,
March the young children shouting with glee.
Snow to them is a clear kind of magic,
Same as the world all beautiful nothing tragic.

Together they walk hand in hand heart to heart,
Young lovers together willing never to part.
The frost falls upon their lovely heads,
It whirls around them and coldly spreads.

Upon the way walks one man,
He has seen many a frost in his lifespan.
Old as he is his eyes are clear and blue,
Watching the snow his life would not undo.

Falling softly white as milk,
Quiet as a dove shimmers like silk.
Frost on the windows snow in the air,
Lifting like the wind and a whispered prayer.

Long I'll sit and watch this wonder,
Peace on earth do not put asunder.
Cold and crisp hope and love,
Snow and frost falling from above.


Photo Credit: Pinterest

Feather Dress

My feather dress is billows and flows,
Lifting with the tide and when the wind blows.
It's light and airy like and bird's song,
Dancing on the breeze floating all the day long.

White and black the colors blend,
I know every fold and stitch like an old friend.
Soft and pretty oh so fair,
I fly to the sky dress carried on air.

Like a bird am I so joyful and free,
Feathers like a bird drape over me.
I sing for wonder and for sorrow,
Again I will come and fly tomorrow.

Bliss and glory at the sky meet,
Wings travel better than any feet.
Beauty in white shining sky,
Oh how glorious it is to fly.

Down I drop the day spun by,
Hardly noticed while I fly.
Feather dress it carried me well,
Special and hidden secret don't tell.

Lily White

Pale as starlight lily white,
Beauty painted within my sight.
Light blue eyes that reflect the sky,
Silvery hair that seems to float and fly.

Sweet my dear and fragile be,
Wonder to behold and magic to see.
White as snow and cold as ice,
Calling out soft words entice.

Lily white the girl you see,
Pale as sand and waves set free.
Calm and quiet butterfly kiss,
Soft as feathers quite a bliss.

Afraid she'd break, the little lamb,
Piercing eyes in my heart slam.
Ghostly pale and haunted look,
Fairytale creature from some story book.

Albino beauty fair and shy,
Flying floating for the sky.
Fairy she seems and magic too,
Pulling seams hearts undo.

Ghost-white girl pretty and sweet,
Light and dark in her eyes meet.
White as snow and pale as sand,
Dark as night as from dreamland.

Keep the pretty face you see,
Beauty ever captivate me.
Fly away my butterfly girl,
Soft as sunlight bright as pearl.

*****
Photo Credit: fryzuranadzis.pl

Sunrise Morning

Sunrise morning oh so fair,
Shimmer lightly on my hair.
Morning dew at last slips away,
Moonlight's fingers linger into day.

Morning sweet and quite divine,
I sit with my feet dipped in sunshine.
It's quite early on this day,
Nighttime lingers but cannot stay.

Light is sprinkled over hills,
Peeking and sparkling on the sills.
Lovely and bright this shimmering stream,
It stitches the morning together as a seam.

Mornings like this I like to think,
Letting my mind in the sun sink.
Mornings of quiet air,
Days to sit with hardly a care.

Quiet so the morning moves,
Worry and fright the sunshine removes.
Pretty and soft the sunlight dances,
Waning quickly as day advances.

Sigh so soft is hardly heard,
Whistling softly like a bird.
Day's begun and so must I,
Quiet's gone I've let it fly.

Morning sunshine I'll return,
Days like this my heart does yearn.
Time's gone by and morning too,
The skies golden faded to blue.


*****
Photo Credit: artvolegov.ru

Water Violin

Water cold and deep deep down,
It flows and tosses around a small town.
Fast it flows then slow again,
Tossing the rickity boats of the fishermen.

Fast it goes and crashes mighty,
Spraying foam upon the birds flighty.
They swoop low and sing so sad,
If only the sun would shine again they'd be glad.

A terrible ocean of punishing waves,
An awful place that's sent too many to early graves.
It crashes it bellows and whips about,
It shouts in the night and its voice cries out.

But there she stands unafraid,
One lone girl with a raven black braid.
She's small and white with her feet bare,
But her eyes reflect no more despair.

She loves the ocean with its waves,
She giggles when the sea foam misbehaves.
She's always wet with its spray,
Today she's by it today's the day.

With her black dress tied up at the knees,
She begins her trek into the water swept breeze.
It's cold on her feet and arms,
She can feel stinging drops on her upper arms.

But in she goes without a wait,
The water is calm in stalemate.
Out she goes and joy in hand,
A violin shiny with water and dusty with sand.

Every time the sea is rough,
Out she goes to play for it enough.
The sea's enchanted with her song,
The water quiets to listen before long.

In the water she strikes the bow,
Out come the smooth sounds soft and low.
Beauty captured in a note,
The tune in the water begins to float.

This is beauty soft and mellow,
A soft song from a tiny cello.
The song continues with the waves,
Off it goes echoing through the seas caves.

She moves with the water her bow undone,
She sways with the notes of her song homespun.
It's slow and sweet but bitter and slow,
It hovers in the air like falling snow.

As the notes linger the waves come back,
Crashing again in a watery attack.
But the girl doesn't care her song matters more,
She'd rather be here than on dry shore.

And so they dance together the girl and the ocean,
Her song creating notes for the motions.
On they dance again and again,
Together as one, music to their pain.

The waves crash down and she lets fly her fingers,
The sudden silence but yet the song lingers.
Together as one the girl and the sea,
A song played out and a soul set free.


Photo Credit: Dreamstime.com

The Lazy Days of Summer

As spring rains slow and stop, as buds open all the way, and as birds settle in after their flight from the south, you know something is coming. Summer is on its way. Summer is a time to rest; true, there is work to be done but never let your to-do list get so big that you don't have time to nap and enjoy summer. The lazy days of summer are special times: a time to swing in a hammock sipping a pink lemonade; a time to pick up a good book and sit in your favorite spot - a chair, a tree, or the rug;  a time for smelling sweet fresh cut grass, and running though the field while caching fire flies.
Yes, summer days are times to be lazy and carefree, a time to thank the Creator for summer beauty. So do so in your favorite hammock while enjoying the lazy days of summer.

Photo Credit: A Guy Taking Pictures

The Return

A cool breeze blows from the north; birds chirp in the oak tree; three children run pell - mell outside the family home, laughing and playing. A wife calls to her busy husband to come and get some lemonade. He drops his work and bounds up the deck stairs. A squirrel pops its head out if a hole in the oak tree and skips from branch to branch.

A pair of sweet hearts sit under a shady tree in the park, watching the dogs and their owners walk by. As they sit there, the young man leans over and whispers in the young woman's ear. Agreeing out loud the woman says, "Yes, my dear. Spring has returned." 

Photo Credit: Marco Vianna and Meagan

The Trees

All winter long the trees will be dormant - not moving, not seeming to be alive. Then one day in early spring, small buds will appear on each branch - tiny and fragile, quivering in the cool spring breeze that still holds a slight twinge of winter. As delicate as the buds may seem, they will grow - grow into a bunch of beautiful leaves shading all who pass under them.

When boys or girls are young, they seem like those buds - small and frail, seeming to almost break in the wind of human nature. But they will grow into strong men and women. And you will look at them and wonder how you ever thought they were fragile.


Photo Credit: skoeber

Sunrise

A sunrise may seem like a simple thing, but it is a proclamation of God's glory. The little flower easily trampled down is an example of the detail God puts into things. If he cares so much for one little flower, think how much more love and care he puts into you. The next time you see a sunrise, shout into the air, "God made me wonderful!"






Photo Credit: Trey Ratcliff