Sparkling eyes, smiling face

Mini me, a newborn baby

When I had nothing to offer You

Your heart for me was pure and true



Before I could pour my love at Your feet

You had made up Your mind about me

Before You called me faithful servant

With the sound of many waters, You called me daughter



I thought I needed to have it all together

Before I could call Your name

I thought I had to do more, be more

So Your love for me would endure



Hearing Your voice had to be earned

When I stumbled, You were far

Until You showed me who You really are

So close, speaking with a tender heart



Daddy God, always smiling at me

With love never-ending, grace overflowing

Warmth in Your embrace, fire in Your eyes

Not angry when I fall, You are kind



I hear You calling, come rest in who I Am

Over me You sing, there are no strings

I love you for you, not what you do



You take me back, to before our journey began

To before I knew Your name, but You spoke mine

Daughter of the King

Your heart is what I wanted the whole time

Having my coffee on the porch
Just basking in the morning light
A peaceful time until my eyes
Were drawn above by light so bright

Thousands of previous mornings
Never once took my breath away
As I gazed up in amazement
On this illuminated day

I saw the vision of my soul
A breath, a glimpse as pure as gold
The light illuminates my mind
In God's tender love I enfold

I closed my eyes to better see
My heart was open, lips are sealed
Right to an inner higher place
Where new perspectives are revealed

In the innermost part of my being
I prayed to let go of any resistance
And I felt such peace washing over me
As I recognized love behind all existence

who am I?

I am not a wife.

for if the grave calls

and my love follows

then I shall cease to be.

I am not a mother.

for if the ground breaks open

and swallows both my infants whole

God forbid—

then I shall cease to be.

I am neither poet nor writer

for if the tide of thought, word,

feeling

ebbs,

and the well of inspired speech

dries up

then I shall cease to be.

who I am:

I am but one who follows

Life, Light, Truth.

I am but one who walks

the dusty, worn-out path

of a good and kind

Teacher.

I am a bamboo reed

bending in the wind.

I am a calf

nursing at her mother’s *******.

I am a pencil

drawing lines on a page.

I am a cluster of rhododendrons

nourished by the canopy.

I am a badger

finding shelter in the rocks.

who am I?

I am but one who follows

Life, wherever He leads.

There is no peace at all for the wicked.

Stinging, ruthless words that pierce through mind and heart
Swiftly, precisely, from lips of clay depart
Arrowheads dipped in green poison find their way
To an unwary target, without delay.

There is no peace at all for the wicked.

The tongue is a sinister, crushing weapon
Who dares resurrect one fatally bludgeoned?
“He deserves my verdict!” Rage seethes in defense.
“He smashed my fortress with the least reverence.”

He is without excuse.

Yet the comely victim-prince says, “Follow me…”
He with the sad, compelling eyes
And nail-scarred hands offered gently, steadily
To a soul vanquished by frantic, chaotic “I”

He whose dazzling raiments from the throne hang
unused
Willfully submits to slight, beating, abuse
As leather sandals cushion dusty, wounded feet
He weeps; Fallen creatures smite head and side–they bleed.

Still the comely victim-prince says, “Follow me…”
Now, therefore, beyond excuse,

Man is guilty.

If I had words and rhyme enough to show
That when on thirsty soil my roses grow,
In stinging, ice-wrapped cage my songbirds sing
A lilting tune that ushers in the Spring.
Then such a poem will, of course, prove true
That God has worked His miracles anew
Through friends so dear as life from life renewed,
Such sweetness, oh, such blessedness reviewed!
In mind and heart they’re two: Nenette, Andrew.

Though years of service each have taken toll
On weary shoulders, cares and burdens fall
But Love-lit eyes and smiles keep such as veiled
As fragrance from the heel-crushed violet.

Praise Him who made you both as beautiful
As summer rain.

Red streaks the latest paper
The blood of martyrs splattered on walls
For their faith.
For the whole world to see.

Red blotches a Gentile face
He wakes up to see Jesus
Coming with healing bright
Shingles, white patches
hideous bumps, flaky scabs.
They vanish at His faintest whisper.

He runs into Samaritan darkness
Screaming, Your name reverberating.
Red is what they ate in Eden, too.
Red is being torn from Your side
By smooth connivance with
Reptilian deceit.

Red is how the world looks
To lovely young eyes
Enamored by it for the first time.
Red is their world
And You turn pale
In their sight.

Red is what I feel
When I learn
Your anointing on my throat
lies–almost forgotten
Preciously hidden
Tucked behind the veneer
Of daily pinings for applause
From dim, glassy faces
Made red by stage lighting.

Red is the color of my cheeks
When I realize
You love me despite.

Red is Your sacrifice.
Red is Your atonement.
Red is my ransom.

…You are everywhere.

Hold onto that Faith
When others mock and see faith in God as foolish
When you're told your final destination is the cold, dark grave
When you are branded as illogical, uneducated and ignorant
When Doubt is knocking at your front door and demands a foothold

Hold onto that Hope
When you sense you are in a downward spiral
When you are tired of the long uphill
When tears threaten to drown you
When you just don't see the sense of life

Hold onto that Love*
When you encounter those who have none for you
When you have the desire to be unloving
When you know this world is nothing without it
When you know it what makes life bearable and true

He was identified by miracles He shared
His blood so precious was shed
He came down earth cause He cared
To the heaven a path He prepared
He turned water into wine
For His flock to wine and dine
He'll come again when It's prime
To Earth where Love was His only crime

Jesus Christ;
              Faith and peace,
        Selflessness and purity,
      Understanding and gentle.
Beautiful in soul non judgemental,
         All wrapped up in love.
            In a nutshell
                He Looks like
                    Love.

Petal falls alone
Stem tiredly
withers, stifled
Cry of pain
echoes

(Song for the Genteel Salesman Blocking My Path Each Time)

If only you knew.

Beneath blonde, rebonded locks
Curled extroverted lashes
Cemented titanium dioxide
Plastered patient breathless pores

Lips-wine-red
Nose elongated,
Dark strokes  imprudent
Cleopatric windows to
Sadness of soul.

Maverick femininity in
Saccharine swan-like greeting

If only you knew.

Eden was perfect paradise
She who was crafted
Immaculately from your rib

She was your Soulmate
You were Beloved
Protector, keeper,
Nourisher of her being

If only you knew.

You are treasured by Him
Who fashioned you
Out of mud
Breathed life into your nostrils

From nothingness
You were imago dei.

You were anointed shepherd
Of all that lived
Moved; slid.

You were perfect
Majestic  in Truth

You were imago dei

As you should have been
And can still be.

Moonlit summer shore
Blackness deep waves sing
He walks
A pencil writes His thoughts