Four footprints
chasing lake’s rim
.
You and me – strolling along
but not quite in stride
.
My quicker cadence
of little feet
and dusty knees
.
Our footprints together
as if we were home
.
You and me – strolling along
but not quite in stride
.
My cadence steadied,
my steps now alone
.
ever aware
the path was never
ours to own
.
You and me
.
Journeying to
a forever home
For Jean – nearly one year since her death. I cherish the things I grew to love and learn because of life with her.
Have you noticed
all the shades of green?
.
“Look there,” she would say
to make green become
more than one color
.
Great pines above,
laced ferns below
.
Look
and feel her smile
.
Do you see the shades
of green?
.
To live in a place
bursting with life
.
The small treasures noticed,
the beauty she shared
.
But the best treasure of all
was not the green
.
It was the reason for it
My husband and I surfed on a sun-filled day but on a day that the waves still had their winter force. I paddled out past the breakpoint – intimidated by the waves’ heights. I found myself sitting on my board, watching the lines of waves travel towards land. I noticed how the off-shore wind met the waves at their break. The spray of water – with the sun – created beautiful rainbows. It was a precious reminder of God’s faithfulness – amid such strong forces and no facade of control, God reminds me that he is here.
Sister, that journey around
its orbit opened
grief not yet known
.
A staccatoed forte
silenced life among
.
But sister see
the arch of color
.
The crescendoed waves
and shattering wind –
their collisions and breaks
trailed 100 rainbows
.
Sister, this moment’s journey
sounds of a requiem
chanting to the drops of tears
.
A hold of chromatic notes
engulfs today
.
But sister see
the arch of color
.
The crashing 100 waves
the splattering terror
composes pieces for
100 rainbows
.
Sister, this journey forward
not marked by
forgotten resilience
.
Sound the major shift
to move your eyes
.
Sister see
the arch of color
.
Waves are sure to crash
wind and water
to hail tears
.
They might take all
.
But sister
know where to look
.
Your orbit around
in the changes and torment
look to the Son
.
In the throws of waves
He gives 100 rainbows
I hear red.
Vacant words
tunneling deep.
.
I tast red.
Sour truths
lingering still.
.
I see red.
Piercing cuts
remaining raw.
.
Remember red.
Flogs unjust
a silent sky.
.
Remember red.
Freely spilled
the crux of life.
.
Remember red.
Once for all
sting left behind.
In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of his grace, which he lavished upon us, in all wisdom and insight making known to us the mystery of his will, according to his purpose, which he set forth in Christ.
Ephesians 1:7-9
Soul,
tumbling under treacherous tides
striving for still waters.
Uncertainty undermining rest –
searching for knowledge;
release from white water.
No one can escape the end.
The rich receive rainfall and rough winds
as certainly as societies’ contemptible.
And still the honest receive the same storm as these.
Searching for still waters.
The answer found
engulfed in greatest depths.
Miraculously surfaced,
unbound by white water.
Rest, for all souls.
Beauty and Terror
All that is can error
That which captivates most
May bring terror
Wood wrapped in incandescent flames
Reminiscent of
Your Father’s name
Removed from willful refrain
Yellow may devour
Energy unrestrained
Fire, you’re beauty and terror
All that is can error
That which captivates most
May bring terror
Peaks piercing air
A sight so majestic –
Stirring passion and prayer
The heart-stopping giants
May storm lava and ash
streaming defiant
Mountains, you’re beauty and terror
All that is can error
That which captivates most
May bring terror
A rumbling palette of blue
rousing and soothing
Swells vast, unique – forever renewed
The steady cool may lap violent
Reminding those of their place
Leaving everything silent
Sea, you’re beauty and terror
All that is can error
That which captivates most
May bring terror
All that is will return
to perfect beauty for glory
for this we securely yearn
Someday we’ll witness a land
Teeming of rest
Both lion and lamb
that which captivates most
forever freed from terror
“Who has measured the waters in the hollow of his hand
and marked off the heavens with a span,
enclosed the dust of the earth in a measure
and weighed the mountains in scales
and the hills in a balance?”-Isaiah 40:12
Reflections of Terror and Beauty 