What will it be like
when I close my eyes
      for the last time?
Will I see that
    bright light
      I have heard about?
Pain may flicker
in those last moments,
      or maybe
       there will be
      no pain at all?
This I do not know.
From my first breathe
     to my last, oh how
many people and places
have I known and been?
Seems a wandering train
      of adventures
         has left the track.
Oh, how it seems
to have been rushed.
       It is now,
       as it seems,
        the end.
That last stop
    that shall only
     happen the once.
This passenger
    is getting off
     at that location.
Will anyone be
      at the station
        to greet me?
Such is the faith
     I hold, that I
      hope this is so.
Shutting down.
Closing.
Dying.
Final visions
filtering themselves
      from my eyes.
Who will I see
    around the bed
      when
       I
        swallow my
         last gasp?
Should I be afraid?
Or should I
     welcome the
      death rattle
       as a system of
        release?
Free from
the sundry
incompleteness
of walking in this life.
Not having to
      worry about
       the
        imperfection
         of walking
          on this planet.
As life drains
     out of me,
      what will be
       my very last thought?
What final image
       will I take with me
        to the grave?
I pray it will be swift.
Absent from pain
       and present
        in God.

Be a Life changer, not a death maker, speak life into others.
Bring healing into others lives by speaking it into their lives.
For we were all put on this earth, by the Living God Jesus.
To speak life into other people lives here on the earth.
Because by speaking life, we are drawing them to be healed.
For we are called to Love others, not hate them here.
For being Christ like here we shall reveal him to others.
Which is our purpose here to love others into finding him.
Thus having another friend , when we all go to heaven in the end.

he held up a dead coyote
like he had just won first prize
smiling from ear to ear
a look of pride in his eyes

the caption said "predator control"
which brought a question to my mind
if we call survival being a predator
then what do we call our kind?

Into your mind



S h o w  m e
Your deepest thoughts



F e e d  m e
Your darkest lies

The pickaxe was charming
And you once were whole
But the tanned laborer
Burnt brown by the sun
Made the pickaxe sing
Whistle in the wind
You felt the impact
The pickaxe once so charming
Broke you in two
These broken rocks
Fields strewn with your saddest story
About how time erodes
And the hand of man
Destroys
You were there in the beginning
The earth started spinning with you
Your witness to creation
Your abysmal ghost
You were there in the beginning
And all your broken pieces
Your bitter memory
Will be there in the end
With words unspoken
Shouting louder than the dying sun
All your broken pieces
Will be there in the end
To testify

A week back, in my garden bloomed, a tiny flower
Neither colorful nor flashy to grab anyone’s attention
The next day one more bud opened of golden hue
Making it more visible, adding an iota to its attraction

Each day to the delicate stalk was added more
Until finally it grew into a large globular cluster
I now stand nonplussed before its splendor
So lovely, it can steal any one’s glance by its luster

 When the wind ruffles the leaves of trees
The mother plant in luxuriant foliage stands proud
Bobbing her golden crown in gentle breeze
Safely screened from the gaze of passing crowd

A dandy butterfly has come flitting down
To kiss those regal beauties like a besotted lover
Embarrassed by such a public show of love
The bashful maidens bend their heads so demure

I am the sole witness to this passionate romance
To the love struck dandy’s out right advance!

Hummingbird-hawk-moth and honeysuckle
Dewey aroma wafts, whilst luscious colors lure
Tubes of flower half full with nectar buckle
Furred insect cares not posy’s thoughts impure
Yet lured, yes lured, to stamens ***** quite more

Fancied moth puts out its long filigreed tongue
Anthers reaching for coveted wings to dust
Objectifying prey, tempting juices corolla young
Wild waltzing flight circulating pollen in lust
Honeysuckle’s sweet sensual seduction a must

Qualities as these voluptuous encounters
Reveal to mind complex ****** intricacy
Flower employing moth as vehicle mounter
Carrying to other blossoms pistol’s ecstasy
Nature’s chance romantic dance of delicacy

Protected by a suit of dreams
And armed with a smile
He came out of nowhere
And went his own way

Seemingly believing nothing
And walking in no-one else's footsteps
He follows no rules without reasons
But he knows right from wrong
And he knows that's what matters

In a world of easy hypocrisy
Where compassion is stifled by fear
And belief is a reason to hate
To hate and destroy other beliefs
He goes his own way

                              By Phil Roberts

the music of listening
is filled with silence
silent songs of the ages
Written on the hearts
of all creation
the singing of the ancient
Poets.