All the Pretty Horses

girl standing near carousel

Photo by Abby Chung 

 

Joni Mitchell and a cup of tea…

I shut the door so no one can see

and dream of something kept underground

when I had to jump off that merry-go-round.

 

I loved the ride and all the pretty horses

I loves what I thought I would be.

I would have sold my blood to be published

so all the work could read.

 

 

I would wax eloquent and be held in high esteem…

all the other riders would admire me.

They would gaze at me on my grand carousel

marveling at all the wisdom I share.

 

Well now I speak in present tense…

the merry-go-round broken down and spent.

For my profound literature there is no need

I still like Joni and a cup of tea.

sjad

Mischief in the Fire

Jill Autrey Dorman

abstract art blaze bonfire Photo by Pixabay

Language is my orchestra sometimes a lullaby

Emotion is the music the poet’s heart lives by.

In the silence of my dream words go dancing through

An Image just too beautiful all logic out of view

An artist lives within me a way of beating all the odds

The sticker on the rose bush pricks discovery one again

All children start out poets I just cannot let that go

So stir the mischief in the fire and let enchantment glow

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Sharp shooter on the roof top (part two)

2.

ancient antique armor armour

Photo by Maria Pop

I walk on vigilant for any inkling of the enemy’s presence…deafening silence

yet in a split-second a pervasive white mist envelopes me…

I feel heavy weight and aching in my body  and spirit,  it is the supreme stealth weapon of the enemy

 

It is shame, my most relentless foe

The ballast of Shame slaughters aggressively,  the deadliest of weapons, worse than sarin  gas…

If I don’t kill it, it will kill me and all it touches, shame is unholy from hell

 

I cry out to the King,  blood seeping from my chest, a razor-sharp slice

I did not feel it at the point of entry

Towering above the shame the King appears, brandishing his two-edged sword

it blazes and radiates like a million Suns, in a blink the sharp shooter

on the roof top falls dead

 

I am blind now, crouching down behind my shield of Faith

the King wields his Holy two-edged sword and shame screeches like the demon it is…

instantly there is silence, my heart is no longer bleeding, I regain my sight

 

The Holy Spirit is the watchman, the Angels encamp around me

I savor the Holy rest of  victory this day…

 

 

Sharp shooter on the roof top (part one)

  1. war chess

    Photo by Gladson Xavier

I dreamed I am  in guerrilla warfare, watching sharp shooters on the roof tops

The King was right when he said we do not fight flesh and bone

Yet we insist on killing our own over and over,  the choice made, cannot be taken back

There are many traitors among us, or most likely they never were a child of the King

 

They look just like me so I cannot know who will gun me down, it is not for me to judge

The Truth can pierce the bone from the marrow, I know because it happened to me…

I must don God’s armor at all times, be vigilant in lie detection, oh the enemy is so smooth, it is a false light…

My heart is pounding, I cannot be silent, for every day is a day of war in the spiritual realm, to immense to be ignored

 

The manifold wisdom of God sees all, the Captain of the host holds all power in his name, Messiah, Jesus, God with us

So I take up my weapons… the belt  of Truth, the shield of Faith, the helmet of Salvation

I continue to walk behind the enemy line for I know the Battle is the Lord’s, I long to remain a diligent warrior

The sharp shooter is still on the roof, the scope on the rifle is aimed at my head, I can see his eyes dead like dolls eyes

I choose to keep walking

 

 

The solitude of mere humanity (another lesson from Job)

 

person sky silhouette night

Photo by Snapwire

The solitude of mere humanity…without tasting the solitary aloneness of  yourself before the God who created you one cannot experience the path to the Cross of Jesus Christ. Our parents faith, our family, our worldly status, our friends cannot enter into this solitude with us. The paradox of the supernatural and eternal Unity of the Cross with the certainty that we each must meet and know God alone is the reality each human must face.  This is the story of Job and every other human.

There is no way around it but it need not be a terrifying solitude. We cannot hide from this meeting with the Holy.  It is an offensive, not defensive stance.  To come home like the Prodigal son, to repent, to rejoice in the Wholeness provided in Jesus. To remove the facade of religious and worldly answers and simply stand unashamed and naked like Adam did when he was molded from the dirt and dust of the earth in the wonderful marvelous light of God’s presence. There is an innocent soberness to this kind of solitude.  Just us before God without another single human being.

It is in the solitude of mere humanity where there is intimacy without playing games. We all experience a time of total loneliness in this life yet in that place something within us cries out to us that we are NOT alone.  Job experienced this. Jesus certainly experienced this in the most utmost sense of the word. God does not play games with us. We came into this world naked and alone and we will leave this world with the solitary escort of the Holy Spirit of God into the very presence of our Creator, Savior, and King Jesus. That is so astounding and kind and simple.

I believe that God is in love with our human-ness. We are his ultimate design an image bearer of our God. We are the Crown of his creation. Not only does God love us he delights in and trust us with the lives he has given us and in our solitary aloneness  with him we can know these truths intimately.

 

Morning Flight

 

 

backlit bird clouds dark

Photo by George Becker

I take to the wings of morning tattered though they be

for I know the colors of the sunrise will lead me Lord to Thee

 

A flight, a poem, my sonnet  to your greatness

as if I am again in my youth soaring to your kindness

 

Nothing but spheres and beams of your radiant light I see

all darkness and death must finally flee

 

I take the wings of the morning  there you will be

as though there was ever Continue reading

Psalm 73 (interpretation)

heart shaped red neon signage

Photo by Designecologist

 

 

That familiar ache of longing

stings my heart again

My flesh and mind are failing

the Spirit within my only defense

 

Transparent in my need

find me once again

Vulnerable to the hurt of man

the certain pangs begin.

 

I declare you are my strength 

the Lover of my soul

I surely would have fallen

unless my God had taken hold

 

 

Night Stone Cold

abstract architecture background brick

Photo by Miguel Á. Padriñán 

Night stone cold

Jagged stone thrown

No concessions for the brave

     Or for the weak

 

Skilled stone cruel

Hot stone burns

Dancing as fast as you can

     Or falling

 

Perfect stone heart

Ravaged stone guards

Fill in the blank as expected

     Or be cast out

 

Night stone cold

The Cornerstone has come

Rest for all those weary

     Or all who will receive

 

“This Jesus is the stone that was rejected by you, the builders, which has become the cornerstone.” Acts 4:11