It is an iridescent dragon fly purple and blue
It so cleverly hovers over the pond of your brow
It is an agile flyer and can be high or low, come and go
It has life expectancy of a week or so…
This is how I see traces of sorrow
A vivid an electric color, impossible to miss
An aviator like no other, comes from anywhere
This trace may be brief, a week or so…
or maybe no one knows…
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atmosphere of ice and refuse.
this pressures me to think of us.
we said we were “all in.”
we talk about the black or white of Life
the Sunsets on Mars are Blue.
When hardship comes your way, will you tell yourself it’s a tool of God’s grace and a sign of his love, or will you give in to doubting his goodness? Paul Tripp
When the road seems shorter than before.
Wherever you turn there is no open door.
Your life is in convulsions like vomit on the floor.
All the paperwork of your life is yellowed and rotted.
Is the God’s grace of love or is it cruel?
Who do you worship and let rule you?
Will you head for the hills of Babylon?
Look for ways to numb your sorrow?
Will you turn to the One who made you?
Will you cry out and hang on to your pew?
Will you doubt God’s goodness in the dross?
Will you walk away or toward the cross?
Blackbird screaming in the top of a tree, the Sun goes passing by.
A full moon shines at the crossing in the road exposing all the lies.
Good girl hiding in the alley in the night, she’s praying no one sees.
Looking for love in the darkness, now alone, it’ll bring you to your knees.
Our children are riding on the wing of a plane, the want to try to die.
Looking for peace from pain in their lives, they’d rather crash then try.
Poor boy in hell at the top of a bridge, he’s praying he can flying.
He’s looking for love in the water down below, it wasn’t in his daddy’s eyes.
Can this bring us around or does history say we lose,?
Does the Cross mean no one goes to Hell or do we have to choose?
Hope for today and tomorrow in not gone, nor does it fall asleep.
Jesus is waiting for us to seek His face and only there will we find peace.
High desert winter.
White-out blizzard coming soon.
Laura Nyro on my stereo.
She warns me of the heartache coming on.
Wood burning stove keeps me warm.
Laura’s voice does the rest.
We got the blues and got it bad.
Wrapped in my Navaho blanket
Still shivering to my soul.
Sitting on the Henry Bridge watching the river run.
A little boy is skipping river rocks beneath the glitter of the Sun.
Autumn breezes gold and ruby red decorate the beaver’s dam.
A little girl hold her baby doll making sweet life plans.
We belong to the day free to be living in a symphony.
Walking of of the night no more darkness to see.
We belong to the day.
No sorrow left to see.
We belong to the day.
She walks like a warrior, straight-backed and crown high. Yet, humble.
Her avian eyes propel with the speed of light. Yet, no guile is found in her.
Her strong and steady hands caress a heated brow or wield a sword.
She walks like a warrior. Her sword discreetly at her side.
She is wise and does not invite chaos into her life.
She equips herself with helmet and shield, both righteous and redemptive.
She walks like a warrior. She is keenly aware of the night.
She nimbly opens the lantern that guides her path.
She walks with a quiet understanding of how this goes. Yet, she delights in Hope.
And every day she wakes and walks like a warrior.
Finally, be strong in the Lord and in the strength of his might. Put on the whole armor of God, that you may be able to stand against the schemes of the devil. For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness…
Ephesians 6:10-12
I have long been running toward that Morning light
trying so hard to be the holy one with all my might
Then you whisper in my ear, “Peace, be still.”
I have long been kneeling in that Cathedral in the sand
trying so hard to form my self into a holy jar
Then you whisper in my ear, “I am the Potter.”
I have long been wading in that River of life
desperate to drink the holy water that cleans
Then you whisper in my ear, “I am the water that never ends.”
No I lay me down on the Alter of Holy Rest
Trust my hands to the maker of all that grows
and drink every drop form the River of Life…
oh how Peaceful it is to “be still and know.”
The end of the day, that hour where the Sun keeps her promise of love
Before the day is done, I love to sit quietly with you.
The crickets start their humming song and the dusk is full of the coos of a dove.
These sweet sights and sounds are the day saying goodbye as night ensues.
I am reminded that the designer of these miracles is You.
I am reminded that you want to be my one and only.
Your Faithfulness is shown by your Mercy that you are Worthy
To hold this day and all my days in your arms.
Jill Autrey Dorman 