A Work in Progress

A voice called out across the wind,

moving through barren tree branches,

calm and reassuring,

Nature cushioned steps break into the tones.

A distant cry,

Seek and you shall find.

Give yourself time.

Be calm and just be.

Repair and refine your nest, you will see.

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Original thoughts began in January of 2014

Edited  and refined in December of 2016

Washed and Folded

Tumbling taken,
to destination unknown;
inner workings,
heart felt tone.

Spinning with patience,
while water flow seals;
ache filled heart,
woven cycle revealed.

Hung out to dry,
breeze captured release;
wrinkles airdropped,
vapored emotions cease.

Folded and creased,
upon lines exact;
points of decision,
precision intact.

Wrinkle

Never Alone

Chaos and turmoil,
where a heart knows not why,
how others destroy .
Not a single tear do they cry.

Chains placed upon lives meant to be free,
words of anger hidden for ones to see.
Fists of control, holding hearts back,
Loving and knowing, each do lack.

Love and peace that can come from within
Only found in a world with forgiven sin.
Hold close to a strength that is near
One who can take away question and fear.

 

Windswept

April 6, 2010

 

From Cradle to Grave

An infant, born in a stable, swaddled in rags and lay in a manger of barn wood,
A young boy, found in a temple, understanding more than he should.
A carpenter, who walked many a stone path, amongst the lonely and weak,
A man of prayer, who alone in the mountains, to His Father did speak.
A  teacher, who prepared hearts and minds, for the treacherous journey ahead
A Savior, who carried His own cross, so that we could have life instead.
A King, who rose on the third day,
Walks amongst us continuing to show and to say,
A Father, to each of you who know
It is through the birth of a baby, My love, I do show.

Dear Journal

Dear Journal……..
I come to you each day leaving my heart on space filled lines.
I often wonder what I would do if you rejected me
Where would I go?
Who would listen?
How would I spend my time?

You help me to think things through
You allow me to whine and moan and complain
You allow me to cry and react and feel insane
You allow me to find peace and quiet and a song
You allow me to release and move along
You allow me to think and shrink into dark filled time
You allow me to expand and grow beyond today’s line
You allow me find the right words to say
You help me to feel alive each day.

What would I do, if I no longer had you?
Sincerely,
Ink-filled pen

Windswept

Winter Approaches

 

The vibrating moon pulsates against my breast,

pulling me just close enough,

to get lost in the orange glow rest.

 

Beams dance across a chambray colored sky,

a two-step rhythm gleaning the air,

Listening for the song birds sigh.

 

Captured and held for moments and more,

a deep breath kept,

while from  waiting branches,  winter is tore.