Looking for the pretty notes…

brass classic classical music close up

Photo by Pixabay

Looking for the pretty notes I strain my ear to hear

that melody of Holy song telling me you are near.

No minor chords of sad goodbye or Sin’s death and decay.

No more lies and darkened skies to distort my journeys way.

I listen for the harmony of your singing clear and sweet

The pretty notes of your presence your love song on repeat…

Wayfaring

green mountain with river in the middle

Photo by Matteo Badini 

 

The way I see the colors

got no good reason to hide.

Where the sky and sea collide

the Sunrise is on the other side.

I will die a wanderer in a foreign land.

Listen to the Living Water calling me home.

That  living call bids me Come, for sure

down to the River edge

flowing so rich and pure!

I take up my pen…

fashion woman notebook pen

Photo by Negative Space

 

I take up my pen to write again of the love you give to me.

No one else was there in that dark night of despair when I saw how much You had to bleed.

You tenderly wrapped my dead body in your shroud of forgiveness, and sealed it with the balm of your Grace.

Your kindness brought me to repentance, and you held so sweetly my tear streaked face.

People say they have heard it all before, and I hope that they too have seen,

The One who knelt beside me and cried along with me.

The chief of sinners, I was your enemy yet still you died to claim.

I will tell you Jesus loves you and me and by no other name can we be saved.

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!

Exposed and Authentic

brown sand

Photo by Miri on Pexels.com

 

The salty air lay thick upon my skin.

Laughter in the village sings so sweetly.

Never does a hard day meet me here,

when I walk by the sea in God’s keeping.

 

This beach helps me see outside of my self,

and find The One who is the Hope of all things.

Exposed and authentic the waves hit my feet,

with no fear of the dance tomorrow will surely bring.

 

I will sing in this His cathedral

of sky and sand and sea.

I praise The Holy One who cannot be undone

and give thanks as He walks here with me.

Of All the Rooms…

rain of snow in town painting

Photo by Lisa Fotios 

 

This snow takes me back to Memphis.

A little girl with a crooked smile.

Oh how magical that Christmas was.

Boot prints of Santa on a snowy blue lawn.

 

So secure in the dreams of that gospel mile.

Daddy was my hero, such warm and simple times.

Of all the rooms my life has passed through,

Memphis was the sweetest time I ever knew.

 

I fill my pages with rhyme and verse

white book page with black pen

Photo by MESSALA CIULLA

I remember the good and leave the worst

I fill all my pages with rhyme and verse

Not much of it will matter to most

But some will understand the cost

 

I see a good day and leave the night

I paint a picture of the Hope in God’s light

May it never be said that I didn’t try

to speak the truth and expose the lie

 

This is the message we have heard from Christ and declare to you:God is light, pure light,  and in Him there is no darkness AT ALL!  1 John 1:5

 

 

 

 

 

You thought I never noticed you

 

 

shallow focus photography of a woman

Photo by Tainá Bernard

 

You thought I never noticed you

in those hallowed halls of high school angst.

Like Breakfast Club we each played a part

and everyone said I would break your heart.

 

You thought I was a Golden lady with no scars.

You said my blue-gray eyes shined like silver stars.

Truthfully I thought no one really cared.

Only you could  see that  I was a little scared.

 

You were my best friend and always true.

I went to the parties and always looked for you.

You were too afraid to come my way

and then you faded black one day.

 

Years came and went till we met again.

We talked and laughed until the sun shined in.

We professed our love and gratitude out loud.

Friends to the end we made that vow.

 

Now I am old and you have crossed the pale.

I can see the halls of heaven prevail.

Nobody ever was or had a friend more true.

How wrong you were to think I never noticed you.

 

(this is dedicated to Tim C.)

 

 

 

In the Eyes of It All

photo of person covered with brown textile

Photo by Noelle Otto

 

I don’t know where you went when you left me.

I have to believe you were sure you had to leave.

People always seem to have to be, have to go, have to hear what someone else has said.

The Truth running away like a spool of thread.

Still, I remember it felt like drowning in a rip tide.

There is a sadness in the end, in the eyes of it all.

I am much the stronger for it but I don’t wait for your call.

A Mom

high angle photo of woman on ladder

Photo by Samantha Garrote 

A mother is a 100 percent flawed human being who was allowed to have part in a unique way in another human beings life. Not every mom loved it, wanted it or succeeded at it. Some moms are sick. Some moms are wounded or abused. Some are driven by a secret or a demon. Some dreamed of being moms since they could talk, others did not. Some are natural at it (whatever that means). Some of us live, eat, and breathe it. Some of us enjoy every moment except maybe the fatigue! Some are fulfilled. Some are not. Some of us fail (ed) at it. Some are not biological Moms but are mothering anyway.


The Truth is most of us didn’t know what we were in for. For me being mom was more than I ever dreamed. It set me “right”. It makes me want to be a better person than I am. Motherhood gives me unspeakable joy and to be honest when it hurts it is the most painful experience. This holiday called Mother’s Day is not good or bad. It is a societal invention. That’s okay. If you are a mom this holiday and you enjoy it that is honorable. If this day brings you pain or grief this is honorable as well. We all must make our peace with our moms and with our children. Moms count in the billions. Moms are not a political agenda or a consumer product. Moms are people who love and want to be loved and fail or succeed depending upon the day or the moment of any given day. I am in the club. I wouldn’t change that. I have no regrets. To all the moms out there…let’s be kind to each other.