from all that is broken…

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I lift my eyes
from all that is broken
from the ashes of idols
from lies that are spoken

 
I lift my eyes
from this earthen vessel
from unanswered questions
from the unfulfilling morsels

 
I lift my eyes
the window of my soul
to the heaven’s Creator
to The One who has control

 
I lift my eyes
where my Faith will be made sight
at His appearing I will see
The Defender and Lover of my soul
has His eyes on me

A bloodied and battered Benediction

 

hand full of blood

A  silent prayer to the close of night

bloodied and battered in the morning light

No more walls or secret places

ashes to the wind  from trash to Grace…

 

The ribbons of sadness all broken away

Redemption’s song the melody of the day

I will  meet you at the road and the sky

over the edge I will let my spirit fly…

 

Turn my mourning into dancing

I clap my hands with the rocks and tree

The Benediction to the new day coming

a wedding feast for my Beloved and me…

 

 

 

 

 

I tried to make it Sunday…

landscape vacation people clouds

 

Well I tried to make it Sunday

but that ocean tide came calling

I stopped on the way for some Tupelo honey

just know my soul needs healing…

 

My Angels have grown older now

though they do not tire of my journey

they bring comfort to my soul

they guard me in my worry…

 

There are no words needing to be spoken

there is no darkness I cannot face

I will sit beside the ocean blue

and for a time it will be a resting place…

I know I’m not saying anything new…

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I feel I am my best self when I write. To portray life as it is as well as it should or could be. I suppose that is what a painter feels as well or a dancer, a sculptor…

Writing brings me a contentment in the moment not feeding the future or regretting the past. Sometimes when I hear or read  a string of words together my ears perk up like when the wind whispers in them.

I know that I’m not saying anything new but for me writing feels like the process of the sea’s relentless movement or the running river water as they both over time smooth the sharp edges off of broken glass or a  rock and reshape them into something beautiful to behold.

I know most things never change but to attempt to express a feeling or fragrance or a picture using words is my passion.

Here is an example of what I am saying…

Wisteria grew along the weathered splintered gray fence that had long been forgotten. The fragrance of the wisteria permeated the bright spring day and it made her feel lightness in her heart that she had not experienced in a long while. She thought about how precious her memories of first love are for there-in  lies treasure in the pleasure and the pain…

I feel a story coming on…to be continued I hope.

 

Holy face

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  • No one can look into your face, yet you let us stand in the Holy Place
  • Oh how amazing to be present with you while the world spits in your face.
  • One minute we doubt you and next on our knees we beg Your mercy and grace
  • Amazing love, the old hymn sings, oh how can it be?
  • What do I know of your Holy face, yet you let me think I do?
  • When least deserved your presence and light come shining through
  • How I long to be in your heaven with you until all your love I know
  • Amazing love, the old hymn sings, on how can it be?

 

Rachmones, the Hebrew word…

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(“Rachmones”:this is a Hebrew word for womb…It is the definition of a compassion as deep and as undeniable as what a mother feels for her child). A little set up for the journal essay below…love you and your family.

 

I got up very early on Sunday morning and sat on a bench in the park…I wondered what it would be like to leave my Christian self and shrug off the garment of My Lord’s bloody cloak. I remember standing up and bowing to my knees. The stillness and holiness of that place brought to my mind the word’s “Lord have mercy… “Chrieste eleison.” Then I thought of the former life I had shed because of Christ and how he had withheld his anger from me and has shown me His Mercy. The Yiddish word for Mercy is “rachmones”, whose root is “rechem” the Hebrew word for womb.

 

Myself being a mother and now a grandmother I am sure once again that God is my father and my mother, the silent mother of mercy, if you will. In his transcendence He is not limited in any way. I know that I could no sooner cease being a Christian then I can cease being me…So I picked up my bloody cloak of Jesus Christ and put it back on gladly. I pray that if anyone sees anything at all the rest of my life it will be God, the silent mother of Mercy, Rachmones.

Silver Lanterns

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So brilliant now the sunlit skies

that old sweet blindness passing by

A woman-child knows fruitless times

all dressed up in lace and rhymes…

 

Let silver lanterns lead the days

Of ones who journey through the ages

To nurture wildness is to be wise

Let silver lanterns by our guide.

 

 

Exposure

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I lie down under the burden

         of the courage that I lack

For you to see the sin in me

        cannot be taken back

 

 

It is my greatest fear at times

       you might finally know

The dark and filth I tasted once

      I never want to show

 

Exposure of who I really am

     could drive your love away

After all  you’re only human

     dare I hope that you would stay?

 

The truth of exposure that I  do not fear

      is a mystery not of loss

but a debt that is paid fully

      willingly hung upon the Cross

 

 

 

Your Young Ones will Dream

abstract angelic art blast

 

I dreamed I saw a million angels flying saying something about the King.

There were children singing and mountains falling into the empty Sea.

Who will it be, who will it be, is the Holy One finally come?

Look for the Evil one’s dying day for the End has just begun.

 

I was kneeling at an alter of burning dreams there was a red moon in the Sky.

There were mothers crying and babies dancing yet no one there could die.

How can it be, how can it be, will the damage be undone?

Look at the Sword He holds in his hands, it blazes like the Sun.

 

I dreamed I heard Purity and Fury thunder and the earth split wide in two.

There were graveyards rolling and a clear voice calling, “wake up, I have come for you.”

When will it be, when will it be, has the Kingdom finally come?

Look toward the heavens and you just may see Him before the day is done.