liturgy

shg3_170808-9834ts.jpgEach awakening comes with that moment we rise to a new day.  

As the imaginings of night fade with each breath of morning sun, the liturgy of our daily sabbath begins and our soul celebrates.

 

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Pressured

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Not just frayed but edges pressed

pulled away with time

in pieces laid open.

Broken bloodlines crushed

still reaching for daylight

heart in hand

in love-seasoned life. 

 

Photography courtesy of Guldman “TheGolden Hour” wordpress.com

 

 

 

 

 

Birth of day #57

p1000007A year of days learning framed love circling hate

   disease stuck and captured

   with thoughts small and great.

Weeds purple miles traveled on mondays commute

     pressed edges of asphalt

     by wild flowered fruit.

Yet not many linger so driven so straight

    bound to mark souls

    captured and saved.

I wake now to birth from life to my life

    from breath to a death

    grace sun-kissed in now.

1st position

20160607_slt4529-197nikCicadas fading hum meets the cool morning breeze

with a call and response litany among the usual flight of birds

except geese in formation against the wind directly pointed

while the lutheran’s sanctioned bell begs their ordered migration.

It is Sunday.  

It is the day the trees dance in 1st position to know Sabbath’s touch. 

 

photography via Stephenltyler.