Her tune craves for him to sing
with her
not at her.

When he holds her in his hands
she comes alive. His love is
made known in the motions he makes.

Actions speak louder than words.
How beautiful it was that strumming
came easier than speaking.

She wants to be learned but not many
people have time for her complex
tendencies.

And she wants to be heard but
they have all forgotten how to
listen with their eyes.

I reached out and touched
her vibrations as he played.
I cried because I understand.

Frisky, little, swimmer
danceful wiggle dips

Yellowy, orange, shimmer
puckering fishy lips

Thoughtful, quiet, feller
never any yips  

Lonely, curious, critter  
Got any life tips?

One day tears will hit my cheeks - raging hail and empty streets.
One day joy will kiss my lips - soft balloon and vacation trips.
One day sickness will swell my throat - fevered flesh and ***** coats.
One day health will sing my song - common loon and acquitted wrongs.  
One day weakness will force me down - rusty bridge and broken crowns.
One day strength will lift my arms - solid rock and dairy farms.
One day fear will eat my heart - barking dog and missing parts
One day faith will keep my beat - mustard seed and new feats.
One day pain will fill my core  - blazing fire and open sores.
One day love will lead my legs - kind words and scrambled eggs.
One day hate will my itch my knees - long distance and sneaky fees.
One day peace will tickle my toes - green grass and escaping prose.

In the thick evening fog

the man walks with his dog

-

The two friends roam leash-less

A bond of no, oppress, aggress, distress

-

They wandered, trailing close but still apart

Yet, never so exceedingly to miss the beat of the other’s heart

-

He breezed on by my petty stroll

looked to me and sang, “Hello”

-

The black dog saw a squirrel, darted towards the bend

I panicked for a moment, “He gonna lose that friend!”

-

Panicky, panicky, pondering, what is loyalty?

Faithful is a friend that never will leave me

-

Their love inspired how beautiful devotion can be

To stay, without being chained, freely.

-

Leading ahead or following quietly behind

I am His and He is mine, without stress of mind.

-

The dog waited and wagged with the squirrel

engaging about his friendly man and the feeling girl.

I’m a Shard of broken glass
sharp in sin until at last
I found myself casted in
the oceans of your grace

Your waves of zeal wash over me
Found in You is where I’m free
The peace within your salty seas
Softens the briery parts of me.

Hallelujah!  you find me
hallelujah! you redefine me
a sea glass gemstones purposed now
to bring glory of your throne!

Riches beyond measure at Christ’s
expense I’m made a treasure
How beautiful you are.
How beautiful you are.

Hallelujah!  you find me
hallelujah! you redefine me
a sea glass gemstones purposed now
to bring glory of your throne!

A man once told me earnestly, I was dirt.

And my mind got all unbalanced with distraught.

What’s the worth of dirt?

It was not until lab nine that the comment touched my heart.



“Composting and Soil” hit an emotional spot.

I am dirt. I am the feminine form of Adam, Adamah.

Biblical Hebrew for “Ground” and “earth.”

The chosen medium of the Father’s formation.



Water, Sun and Air

Father, Son and Holy Spirit

Entering me daily to heal me, grow me, thrive

the seeds He is planting to reveal His vine.



In a very figurative and literal sense.

Daughter, wife and mother ground

Purposed for *******.

Saturated in Christ, piercing love and bearing children.



Teach the fruit only the Lord develops

Through Christ, soil once unworthy, is valuable

Such as man’s duty is to cultivate the earth

I am dirt, Cultivate me.

My favorite show is
Watching America's Funniest Home Videos with you.
Watching with you
Watching you
Your eyes glowing with delight.
Watching with delight
Watching your delight
A smile explodes across your face.
My heart explodes across my rib cage.
*laughter.

Faded Glory
Sweatshirt clenches my
teary salt seas.
Mascara on cotton
like drizzle upon Asphalt.

With a raw heart I swing the monkey bars of life. Day by Day.
I pray weak prayers for warm rays of hope to thaw these parts of me.
Make the picture pleasing again.
Swing by swing, He breathes into my spirit,
"feel the rawness"
"taste with thanksgiving"
"listen to the life"
"behold the blessing"
Point, Press, Focus
at once, the swings are of less significance.
When the Lord is at the center of my viewfinder
Weakness was the answer to my prayers
Coldness becomes a picture of beauty.

I keep poking holes in people with question -
As if their passions are maple sugar sap.
Do you sing? What do you sing?
Do you paint? What do you paint?
Do you play? What do you play?
How does your soul make art -- make love with life?

“Uni” consisting of one - one God of consistence
“verse” - His expression to all existence

The universe is finely tuned in mathematical formulas
The Maker’s way of coordinating an euphonious orchestra

No algorithm can describe - It’s undreamed of!
no song can measure the depth of His love.

But there is method to His heart
an ensemble He has chart

He had the future  calculated all along
Jesus Christ- the bridge to His heavenly song

To save the lost - He paid the cost
And wrote the words which cleanse - Unwashed.

Through covenant He’s derived a relational endeavor
In hopes that you and I will make music with Him forever!

Why am I so affected by everything?
You took a picture of a crap load of birds sitting in a tree above you.
It was really unlike you.
I thought it was really attractive
How you sent it to me.
Like you were proud that you noticed something.
Why do things have to come in crap loads before we notice them?
Pain, joy and the birds.
Why can’t a pebble give the same impact as an avalanche?

I am living in the valley of putrid decay.
Hope is black ashes in a smoldering sky.
The world? Acid rain, takes the best,
leaves the pain. I am withered in darkness,
when pervading light shows up to stimulate
the auxins in my soul. I stretch for Christ
and, I come alive with a life that’s not mine!
When He illuminates love, so divine, by sacrifice!
My pride, lust, anger covered in fluorescent colors!
This mess becomes defined as righteousness!
Re-bloomed from the inside, growing out!
The radiance of Calvary has elevated life in me!

Do plants have souls
whom feel and know?

Is not their appetite for existence
evident in the ways they grow?

Do they dream with warm
remembrance in this slushy snow?

Or have I let my metaphors become
some form of reality show?

His freckled fingers tickle silver chords;

His blessed talent flourishes brightly.

hands like fireworks blazing music soars,

I’m always desperate to hold them tightly.

Michael’s smile illuminates the sky

As handsome gestures strum the universe.

With lips quiet, he is one charming guy!

I pray that we will nevermore disperse!

Yet outside aura does not compare to

His beating heart within to share the truth.

A helpful man and open to pursue

One silly lady with love and “I-do.”

Delightful he is outside and inside,

How honoring it is to be his bride!

I do not classify myself as a Becca or Becky because the ‘Re’ is important.

The prefix meaning ‘again’ motivates me when I fail to keep trying again.

Failing *****, but growing from mistakes is a beautiful process that I come by often.

Be kind to all kinds
Because you will find
By being kind to all kinds
Makes you the best kind of
One of a kind.

I wish to understand these fragments of myself as beautiful.

This patch of back hair could be a
silky kitty on a window sill.

This doughy belly might as well be a
delicious pizza in the making

These hairy legs seem like
open fields of hay to roam freely.

Culture says, "You're ugly but if you do this ..... you will be desired."
The rebellious say, "You're beautiful in every single way."
But I say, "Everyone is beautiful and ugly in their own."
what's ugly is our inability to see each intricate part of
ourselves
each other
as a miracle.

I cannot eat and I cannot sleep anymore
because Your Great Love has been
knocking down my doors.
God, I am filthy, but you make me clean
You've had great plans for me
before I even became a little bean.
Growing up brings some bitter pains,
You wash it away with your healing rain.
My timid soul is thirsty and starving.
Shape me Lord, into your perfect carving.

I have been overtaken by the color of the leaves.

Sugary reds and faded yellowy greens

For now, they are falling slowly like the bits of me

All the answers I am searching for so desperately

When will this falling apart bring glory to His name?

And how can I disconnect myself from fame?

I’m attracted to the trees and their way of surrendering their beauty

Stretching higher, hoping to be closer to their Creator.

To know and to make Christ known is their game.

Teach me the same. Less thinking, more falling.

To know Christ and Make Him known

it does not matter where or how.

It matters now.

Maybe I was created to fall, fall down on my knees.

And to stretch towards to the heavens, Let go of all my leaves.

I searched your face for words
as you drummed softly on my knee.
Poetry hidden within your pores.
paints through my mind a melody.

A kiss in the darkness to a new year.
I close my eyes and listen to the beat.
Vibrating colors I see, feel or do I hear?
Inspires me - create something for the Lord:

To see, feel, hear, taste and smell so clear
I give thanks for the way Jesus restores
with blessings, lessons, senses and love so near
Heavenly rewards I will never afford.

your silhouette is a scene of Christ’s creativity.
Those rhythms show sensations that He’s in motion  
your heart-beat sounds of His life giving power.
your lips taste like the sweetness of answered prayers.

I smell His provisions and it is quiet for a moment.
...You're just a man...
But, you make me want to love God more fiercely.
Feelings are fickle compared to Christ, so consistent.

He’s the reasons we’re here, like this.
We may run off time.
He will be the reason when we’re gone.
OH dear, I may run out of sense and rhymes.

His love will remain.

Being with him was like experiencing all the seasons at once.
Steadfast like a frozen lake was his spirit. unique like a winter flake.
His voice was spring, soft and speaking life into all things.
A warm summer was his heart. Humbled by love and burning to serve.
His tones that of autumn. Apple crust skin sprinkled with cinnamon.
His exquisiteness enlightened her sensitivity to the senses.

In each season, weathered literal or emotional,
There was no longer room for her disillusion.
This time it was different because her heart,
Had decided to be glad in everything.
With or without him she would be alright, yet, she named him 'Miracle.'
She folded her hands, "Lord never let this season boy leave like the leaves,"
She prayed, "Keep him with me always."

In a long Victorian styled dress little Connie waltzes from person to person hugging their waists.  She gives me a lingering squeeze with her porcelain colored arms. The crookedness of her teeth does not stop her from flashing a smile with every embrace. She is such a loving spirit for a third grade homeschooler.  A fountain of youth is in her blue eyes and I hope for the sake of the world that growing up will never remove her wild joy.

Boogery Kisses.
An unlikely
pair of words.

But sounds
Like something
Unconditionally intimate.

Something only
Sick lovers
Would understand.

I am stuck between too many
Or not enough words.
I just want to say
something that
matters.

Love
kissed
her
cracked
and
bleeding
lips.