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
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!
Jolted from my Daydream deluged by the sudden high tide,
I slammed into rapid -fire streams of doubt and fear inside.
Memories, like clouds hide the light, wreathed in glass beads of blue.
I swallow all my viscous dread and put my faith and trust in you.
Photo by Sippakorn Yamkasikorn
It is like first seeing a wildfire not knowing what it is.
Like orange flickering holiday lights dancing on a black hill.
The odor of burnt vines and smoke are miles and months away
but slowly and surely the wildfire is edging our way.
At first people believe it won’t affect their world
they ignore their inner call to action or care.
The next thing they know all sight is lost in smoke
now everything is burning like the wheat and the tare.
We should have listened to the prophets
their facts written in black and white.
Now the oil of apathy cannot be returned to its urn
The orange lights are now full raging fire that burns.
Photo by Skitterphoto
The North shore of my piece of sugar white heaven faces the sound (Bay) side of the island.
The three mile bridge stands sentinel guard and my small bay is dotted with white sails stirring my heart.
The bridge that brings me home to my nautical world.
The smell of fish and salt is a soothing balm to a weary girl.
The hermit crabs do a miniature square dance that leads them safely home.
The Sandpipers play hopscotch in the tide pool foam
The Gulls swoop and squawk over schools of fish and bones
There is a different peace on the Sound, the quiet side.
It always feels like the end of the day here where the tired come home to rest.
Like a sweet baby’s coo the waves lap upon the shore.
The “Quiet Side” is what the locals call the back door.
And are happily living and dying on this island right here.
Photo by Alex Fu
Even in the darkness I cannot hide from you…
When my fear whispers that I will not be able to cope
that I will never make it out of this hole…
Faith tells me my Father knows what I need
The Father who keeps filling me with his strength
and just in time He supplies all the Holy Light
that I need to battle through this dark night…
I raise my head from my prayer and I see Jesus kneeling there
The Light of the world has prevailed and no earthly power can keep me from His care…
Photo by Rakicevic Nenad
The Angels have not grown older.
I always see them over my shoulder;
gentle, yet piercing mighty eyes.
Always checking the road maps and signs.
I have grown much older;
my dreams like nets all thrown.
Some I’ve known have wished me well;
a couple of them said “go to hell.”
Words, just words without caring.
Words, just words both wrong and right.
Still, I journey on toward His Holy Light.
Still, the Angels lie down beside me each night…
I journey on.
Photo by Sebastian Voortman
They were each alone and tired of talking.
She remembered when she thought she told the Truth.
Then she grew up and knew it an impossibility for the corruptible man.
Yet their longing made them bolder and knit them together.
It is a risk you choose, even if it means you lose everything else.
Like The Master said, “you must lose your life to save it.”
The crave for connection… As we approach the advent of the first coming of Christ I am reminded that in my sixty three years of life I have never observed a more isolated society even though communication avenues are more brilliant than ever. I love that we share the love of our families on Facebook as this is the most critical form of connection in the human race…though all of us cannot connect with blood family we still have a longing to belong.
There is much data out there now regarding anxiety and shame. I believe that most of us are still very uncomfortable with these very two unraveling entities. Shame unravels the deepest level of our ability to “connect” to anyone and Vulnerability, which causes anxiety, comes with the extremely high RISK of being wounded. Connecting with another human being is that level that gives life meaning. To tell the true story of your whole heart tells who you are. Most of us guard that story due to past failures to be understood or to find ourselves left like a wounded soldier bleeding on the battlefield…while this may sound somewhat depressing I do not believe this is true…I have lived my life both ways. One, guarded from any and all who might hurt me or think me strange (which no doubt I am strange. Hal) On the other hand I have chosen to take the Vulnerable life path in my latter years and here is why…The most vulnerable person I have the deepest relationship with is Jesus Christ. He chose to be vulnerable in the hopes that those who believe in his sacrifice will always have Hope and Life…deep inside of us we all long for these two things above all else in my opinion… when I reflect on the Courage it takes to deny “shame” and embrace “vulnerability” it is mind boggling…I have messed up innumerable times attempting these two actions of life. The result is it leaves me victorious, humble, and often times “wounded” and at risk for “injury” deep down in my soul but oh my how WORTH it the victories, failures, and wounds have been! As I approach 64 years the end of the month I must say yes I have regrets and there are things I would do differently now but I do not regret one single day that God has allowed me to breathe the breath of an abundant life and to embrace the sweaty, difficult, messy parts as well as the fragrance of a rose or a daffodil in the Spring, the salty sea of Summertime, the woodsmoke smell of Fall, and the biting cold of Winter over and over again…
My Christmas wish is that I would continue to tell the story of my whole heart and that each of you would share yours too. It is the reason for those of us who believe in the Holy Birth of Jesus continue steady on…
Where Charity stands watching
And Faith holds wide the door,
The dark night wakes, the glory breaks,
And Christmas comes once more.