i was lost,
and Jesus found me.
even when i wasn't looking to be found.
now hallelujah, for He persists to share Himself with you too.

There is an
eternal winter
that lingers around
my heart.
It beckons with
icy music,
gray clouds, and
marches by Wagner.
Vultures, like ghastly
puppets picking at
my brain.

I drive it away with
sunflowers and walleyes,
fish fries and the gathering
together of friends and saints,
old soldiers that beat the odds,
and the neutered con game.
Leonard Cohen overcame,
and so did I.
Life was playing chess,
While I was playing
checkers.
Well, baby, it's checkmate.

I didn't need lucky bamboo
or a four-leaf clover, I needed to
use the wisdom that God gave me.
I made some changes in my actions.
When I behaved differently, I found
serenity and a Winnie the Pooh and
Piglet sort of happiness.
I was drowning, so I grew gills and
swam away to a river that flowed
through the Million Acre Woods,
and now when I am on land,
I waltz down Love Street.

I walk out to the garden
in the morning again
ahhh how I feel winter's bone

while yes it is August
an it's hotter an hell
but I hear that cold wind
just a-moan
an just a tinge of bittersweetness
in how fast time has flown
and why is it I
that must always now
roam?
an why is it my
leaf that's always windblown?

sigh
but I know
no use just to wonder
I must just embrace the unknown

and yes as my aging bones
they ache too
an I feel the pangs
of missing
the sunshine an warm,

as the winds are a-changin
an the coldness now hangs
those crystalized skies
to soon form

but sigh that's alright
for Autumn comes first
in beauty to see
here unrivaled

our winter is harsh
tho poetically so,
it's the way of my life
my survival

through perilous times
conditions too much
I have now have learned to be stoic

an my father was too
to rarely complain
an I thought my dad was heroic

he worked long and hard
conditions or not,
at least in of what I remember

an his favorite of times
well it was the fall
starting here early September,

the pies and the pumpkins
the laughter and leaves
in smells and in sights to delight
the colorous splendor
awaiting the drift
covering the mountains in white

so bring on the winds
and the beautiful leaves
as everything dead becomes new
in everything seen
and in seasons to pass,
as I am reminded of you

I say a most sincere
and grateful thank you for my life.

Ma Cherie © 2017

"The Lord appeared to us in the past, saying: 'I have loved you with an everlasting love; I have drawn you with loving kindness.'"

These words,
recorded in faithfulness
t   h  o   u   s   a   n   d   s
of years ago,
reach a hand
through time to
strike a tuning fork
against my soul,
setting praise
ringing
inside me.
I tremble with
energy
which urges me
to shout, sing, dance, cry, compose, raise my hands in the air,
or simply fall to my knees
in awe of Him;
Saviour,
Father,
Lord-

the ever-present
c
a
n
d
l
e
on my darkest days-
the unfaltering needle
pointing me to
true north
when
a hundred different opinions
clamour for my ear-
the unending ocean
of grace
and forgiveness
in times when I seem to make
nothing
but wrong decisions-
the magnanimous provider
of exactly what I
need,
though I've done
nothing to deserve it.

The one and only
Lord,
who can name each
and every star,
is
somehow
also the one
who whispered "temple"
in the ear of
a hurting
and lonely girl
to remind her
that she is precious, beloved, irreplaceable, sacred, held dear, and never,
never* alone.
It is this
indescribable,
uncontainable,
amazing God
to whom I will be
grateful
for
e
         t
                 e
                         r
                                  n
                                            i
                                                    t
          ­                                                   y
for loving me
with an everlasting love,
and drawing me
with His loving kindness.

Amen.

She cries tears of mother's ruin
"Look at me!
It's been so hard
All of my life
And I've had to fight
For my own patch of light
Still, no-one ever looks at me"

He turns his eyes to the floor
Saying nothing
Feeling stupid
And his words burst like bubbles in his mouth
He is desperate to say something
Anything to make her happy
But he cannot turn disappointment
Back into youthful optimism
Or bitterness back to hope
As she sinks into smeary sobs
Wet and bleary loss
He takes her home

He undresses her and puts her to bed
Then he holds her as she cries
And he holds her as she sleeps
He hushes her when she stirs
And calms her when she starts and cries out
When the dreams become too real
And he shall never be more than this
Never more fulfilled
Caring for her is his only purpose
Making her happy is his holy grail
Willingly trapped within her pain
He is nothing else at all

                               By Phil Roberts

handing down to those with vigour
- the strength of body and mind

last the course, go the miles
carry the flame

your idealism is to be applauded
-make the revolution, love

and make it count
while you are still young

because when you find yourself oldering
the revolution will still burn in your heart.