Restless for the air outside
in the light of un-stained glass.
I count my breath to calm my spirit with
doors closing and hushed children.
Invocation then
to dreams and freedom
away from pretense and prose,
Amen.
nights
I don’t know in the night
about corner edges and how they hurt
about who is in charge of my broken heart
breath so loud with fear
and yet no voice
tears fall fast and never seen
the space divorced from eastern light
I don’t know in the night
about me, about hope
reach
The heart grows tender only in the dark places of pain and loss
where seeds of anger die too slowly
but then reach
for the hope of rebirth
for the delicate touch of light
for a healing shower of grace and love
Cold Melancholy
The tips of fingers and toes stiff with cold
trap the moment
as I remain attached to wanting thoughts
in loneliness waiting
for the warm of spring
Brew
- Photo by Chamod Kushan on Pexels.com
Morning tea preferred
warm, gentle
Coffee every morning
powered
by enthusiasm to blend a version
of his perfection.
Shameless Rest
Have you ever heard the sun set?
the hum of wisdom in letting go
the joy of shameless rest
Evening echoes sigh
with harmony in rounds of prayerful song
silence and breath.
Prelude
The memory soaked moment
unwanted
stains
glass windows of prayer
Photo thanks to Ruth Scribbles WORDPRESS
Worship
church is not a go to place
but a space
where you are off stage
being
the beauty of creation
celebrating
home
Sunday
deranged
Time leaked
spaces feared and forgotten
memories wreaked
with daily breath once harboring hope and love.
Picture via “amdally” wordpress.com
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