I don’t trust you but I’ll try you…

pexels-photo-134020.jpeg

Photo by Zukiman Mohamad

He smiled with no malice when I said, “I don’t trust you but I’ll try you rather than stay the way I am.”

 “Well, at least your honest,” he replied adding, ” I can work with that. “

So, this man had a sense of humor and his eyes danced like chocolate stars.

His face was not handsome and his hands looked rough and scarred.

There was a warmth and strength in his voice that I’d never heard before.

A sound of gentle peace fell before me like a tide pool near the shore.

We must have walked for hours but I was not tired or worn.

He  told me every single thing I had ever done before.

I cannot express with words the happening.

A wonder of  transformation began to form.

I was then and then I was new and I trust Him forevermore.

 

 

Dawn Treader (a tribute)

aerial photo of water waves

Photo by Magda Ehlers 

She could take no more time looking back.

The Light was brighter and then the brightest.

She heard singing in another language so majestic, and she knew it was the Song of The Highest.

The water clear and sweet and no salt was in the Sea, and every refraction of light shone like jewels.

She knew it was not the Old Earth any longer.

No shadows or darkness could still linger.

She threw off her sword  for there was no need of weapons

She was in the King’s Country at last!

There were many who could accuse her…

 

assorted colors rocks

Photo by Ir Solyanaya 

There were many who could accuse her, she knew it was the law.

The very men who used her now want to see her stoned.

She remembers how it started, so hungry and alone.

She rode the tide of shame and commerce, with nowhere else to go.

She heard about the Holy man healing all the sick.

They said he spoke of God’s love for all, even those who have no hope.

So now she stood before Him and prepared herself to die.

He then wrote something  in the dirt and gazed up into her eyes

And said, “no man here can accuse you and neither do I.”

Oh the washing of her soul a deluge fell that holy day,

and she followed Him from that time on, He is The Truth, The Life, The Way!

Her breathing is God singing…

christ the redeemer

Photo by Matheus Bertelli 

 

Her tiny toddler body lays wrapped against mine.

Her breathing is God singing, His Love her sigh.

No guile no malice no doubt or fear.

Her precious hands show me God is near.

She whispers my name as she falls asleep.

Never a sweeter word has been spoken to me.

My heart could burst open when I smell her sweet head.

If there is a treasure on earth more than this I choose this song instead.

The Shell Seeker

 

 

brown sand

Photo by Miri

Standing on the highest sand dune people moved back and forth on the ground below.  She no longer has their youthfulness of an unlined face but she knew she finally possessed the joy of ageless Grace. The pilgrimage called her to this beautiful place. The wind and the sun an old friend on her face.

Now she is the shell seeker in the wide brimmed hat, as a child playing in the sun she’d laughed at people like that. She remembers younger  days when she grew weary but now the days of peace are what linger here.  Emotions don’t obey the rules they are the heartbeat in being human.  Like waves reaching the shore emotions can be kept for a moment but are better when given away.

The shell seeker’ s eye remains clear and adept while watching the children play. She knows that life is not going back but more of giving it away. The Truth is, life consists in learning and loving well with Grace underneath God’s sun.  To remain whole in the midst of life’s ups and downs, to surrender all secrets and lies is anointing oil to the soul. To shed insincerity and live in the present, the waves echo behind her now compelling her to go on.

I have always felt set apart

big waves under cloudy sky

Photo by GEORGE DESIPRIS

 

I stare out my window

Like a sea wife staring out the horizon

Time moving ever so slow

 

 

 

I have always felt set apart

Looking outside of dreams into the  indigo haze

Time capturing the beats of my heart

 

 

This is what faith is

The hope of what can’t always be seen

Time cannot define where he is

 

The drums of lies touting of a merry hell

 

broken drumstick close up dark dirty

Photo by abednego ago

The drums of lies beating through the night city swells.

The lies touting of a merry Hell.

Hardened  in heart pursuing only self, dancing to the tune of gaining  wealth.

When day dawns over the city’s night all will be blinded by the Holy Light.

The drums are lying, darkness takes your life.

For Hell can’t be merry and is not the tale of fairies!