Far flung freedom
feels feverish,
a fierce fire
burning brightly,
but both bear burdens of
pursuing purposeful pain
pinned to people pondering
for future father's from families
far flung from fire
and each other.

Rain is really rainy
running, rolling round'
rendering rhythms on
roofs rather randomly
yet really relying on
rays reaching right
as rehearsed.

What do I write about the rain that never ends?

Does it feel like cool round beads of silk or metal?
I don't know I can only see it from my window.

Does it smell like fresh clean linen or limes?
I couldn't say I can only see it from my window.

Does it sound like children's small feet or toes?
I can't think I can only see it from my window.

Does it taste like a new beginning or old endings?
I refuse to learn because....

I can only see it from my window.

I love surprises!
Well, most of the time,
if they fall in line
with what I had in mind.

And should that surprise me?
Should it be so?
That something unexpected
is not something I will know?

The way life has gone
and the way it will go
is that God will surprise me,
no matter what I sow.

God's surprises will be
unexpected and so
my mind devised
that though I may love it or not,
should I be surprised?

I stood gazing.
Light shed behind a wooden cross
overlooking your kingdom.
Overlooking your river steady and true
flowing to your sea.
From a distance it seemed to be moving
with the life and morning life of you.

I moved, drawn closer to the life,
at peace, but my heart quickened.
Your cross grew larger and leaped faster,
not away, but towards me.
Now I saw a new color of the day,
the color crimson. Alive on your cross.
Crimson lept away and towards me in time and space it seemed.

When I opened and focused my eyes fully,
I gazed on a miracle of your making.
A harmless, simply beautiful, creation.
Hundreds of pure crimson ladies, your blood shed for me,
danced in hope and joy around on your sacrifice.
The cross you bore for me.

After my wide eyes settled I sat quietly, serenely.
I felt your cool morning dew laying on your jade toned grass.
I sat near enough to soak in your beauty fully,
Just enough to feel hope landing on my arms, harmlessly.

Hope then crawled and spread a joyful smile on my resting lips.
Only enough to absorb grace and all that there was, then.

I sat and looked up, using gifts given , bent my neck to spine.
I sat and saw the wonder you showed me.
I sat and heard your voice whispering through my hair.
I sat and breathed in your breath fully.
I sat and believed in you, still I sat alone with you.

Time unknown went by and then there were more of us.
We sat together no words spoken.
We sat together in weary morning amazement.
We sat together with our hands folded , spirits entwined with yours.
We sat together and the eyes you blessed us with soaked in wings of pure joy.
We sat together and believed in you.

Crimson ladies danced to sow in us peace, love, serenity, creation, quiet,
joy, connection, beauty, light,  sound, feeling and it all meant love.

The cross of your creation, dancing with life.
The sacrifice you made.
Made for us, made for you and me.
We are grateful for all and your crimson ladies.

2008....about my first experience with the Father, Son and The Holy Spirit, which happened in 2002. I lost the memory and my way for a a while and the experience found me later and brought me back to Him in some ways.

The biggest mistake I ever made
was missing the chance I didn't take.

The ground beneath my feet, I feel,
is moving slowly, sharpening steel.

The smallest sign was blind to my eyes,
and now my heart can feel its shrinking size.

The chance He made
I chose not to take
always was my biggest mistake.

There is just no sleeping tonight
I am trying but the twirling of my head
won't let everything be alright.
So I sit, gaze straight instead.

No, there is just no rest in sight.
The coffee *** is waiting ready
for the dawning of early morning light,
but I keep my gaze steady.

If there will be snoozing against minds might
tomorrow will come in glory
to greet me without a fight
and I will continue on
to the following verse of this story.

Verse 2...Still no sleep

Magnitude of mighty morals
must mind minutes on laurels.
Lay lying in lighted luck lamenting.
Love lives lively less forgetting.
Find favor of Father's future.
Fair in fun filled creature.
Crawl in crevasse created.
Can of cold cards played.
Pain of posture posed poignantly.
Part in pretty petals painted loosely.
Learn of leaning lantern low.
Lid open liturgy's lighted meadow!