Suspended, hovering
Above the buildings of power
Skyscrapers, temples, monuments
Turning in all directions
Horizon mountains, meadows
Or endless cityscape
Downward rooftops, cars
Night view reveals roadways
Like flowing arteries, veins
An angels view from heaven.

Camera shifts
View now from within
A park on a busy corner
Kids laughing, playing ball
Hear their joy.
Turning, veering
Woman sitting by fountain, crying
Feel her pain.
One with all in that moment and time.
God within us.

Scanning upward, a man
On a balcony waving down
Directly toward camera.
A smile, welcoming
Brings joy and lifting of spirit
Though he cannot see me
It makes a desire rise
Wanting to do the same for him
Why prayer, praising God
Brings such value to ones life.

"Beloved, we are God's children now; what we shall be has not yet been revealed. We do know that when it is revealed we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is."                 1 John 3:2

Looking through the glass,
Gazing into darkness,
Consumed with longing.

Then, being gone.
Emptiness? Void?
Suspended within Infinity.
Missing self.

Glimpse of light and song
As the door closes
Kingdom!

This is "the time of the stars".
One day the stars of our universe
Will all burn out and be no more.
God does not save from death.
He redeems and gives new life.

I wanted to run, to hide.
                  HE said, STAND.                                                  
I did not want to fight!
                   HE said, BE STRONG.                                     
I was afraid, how?
                    HE said, IT WILL BE OK.                                                                  ­                  
      Take it no longer: SAY NO!

Hundreds of foam backed carpet squares.
Fiber, pattern, loop or pile;
The same materials each one bares.

Design in laying of interest to sight.
Rotated up, down, or flipped around;
Creates diversity in the way it reflects the Light.

We are “soul and body, clad and enclosed in the goodness of God.”
Julian of Norwich

God with us
     throughout the years.
Born of blood,
     bone and tears.
Shouts, singing
     can you hear?
Joyful news
     for all ears.

Early morning darkness
Pierced by tree lights
Douglas the Fir and I
Share a quiet space in time

Upon Douglas have hung
So many beautiful bobbles
Representing hopes and dreams
Shimmering moments of a past

Until, dried up, water unabsorbed
Douglas the Fir topples
Ornaments and lights shattered
Broken glass across the floor

Few treasures remain, stored away
Is it worth the effort?
Shopping for new bobbles or tree
Just knowing it too will die...

Yet, on lives a Christmas dream
One filled with joy, happiness, love
Where is Fraser the Fir?
Who's lights illuminate the morning.

I went to church but I couldn’t really believe in God.
The trouble was my mind was closed to the possibility.
I could not accept that there was something more to our existence.
Something impacting our lives that we can’t see or touch?
Most of all, I wanted to make my own choices
And not think they were wrong.
I killed God within me, all by myself.

Thomas, the Apostle, did not believe others.
They told him, “We have seen the Lord”!
But Thomas couldn’t accept truth. He said,
“Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hand
And put my finger into the nailmarks and
Put my hand into his side, I will not believe.” John 20:25
God showed up and gave him the chance.

I always wanted proof like Thomas received.
Didn’t really want to put my hands into terrible wounds…
That sounded a bit disgusting.
I had no understanding that my wounds; were His wounds.
As I lived with deceit and rejection and dishonesty
I WAS placing my hand into His nailmarks.
When we least expected it, God will show up.

“Weeping comes for the night; but at dawn there will be rejoicing.” Psalm 30:6

Clouds drifting westward
Earth rotating to the east
Minds searching for.....what?

Studying the Book of Ezra
Noticing the lines of genealogy
The men and sons are listed.
No women or daughters
Unless they sing or serve.

Then it started, ANGER
In Your salvation history
What are women?
Nothing? Chatel? Slaves?
How can You forget us?

The wheels spun faster as I read
About the foreign women
Who were “put away with their children.”
Rage at the injustice!
The first Salem Witch Trials?

As I was ranting, it was as though
Darkness fell within.
I knew this place,
Had lived most of my life here.
Unbelief is existing within a vacant black shadow.

I will not return to this void!
I will open my heart in loving confidence.
I cannot understand an infinite God.
I am; all women are made in His image.
WE ARE CHOSEN!

As the Father loves me, so I also love you; abide in my love. I have told you this so that my joy might be in you and your joy might be complete.          
                      John 15: 9, 11

Spring came early
Abundant warmth and rain
Roots thrived, blossoms galore
Leaves burst forth hoping to gain
All the sunshine and happiness
Partaking without restrain

Summer was gentle
Temperatures milder
Giving the braches and leaves
Room to grow wilder
Seeking to fill the sky
Providing shade so much kinder

Autumn approached so gradual
Leaves dancing in a shimmer
Offering all a grand display
Before they fall and wither
Endless blessings received
Every color offering a glimmer

Winter always ahead
Leaves will endow
A surface upon which
Thick ice forms on the bough
Too many leaves, too much weight
Massive destruction now.

If spring had been dry, autumn
Arrived sooner or summer hot
Leaves would have been fewer
The ice would not
Have shattered all the branches
Though valiantly they fought!

I wrote with the idea nobody would know.
But then, there were these…… likes?
After that, a posting or two……
Now three or four “followers”.

The responsibility that creates within me!
I can’t seem to write, it has to be good.
I certainly can’t post, it would have to be perfect.
I was only playing with words, little stories with spaces.

In Dante’s Divine Comedy
Satan is frozen in hell, unable to free himself.
Is that what this uncertainly is
Being paralyzed in evil’s grip?

With that thought, I must continue onward!
Reminding myself I am but a humble servant.
They are God’s stories.
HE creates perfection, I will just write.

The hurt had been there for so long.
Never seemed to be any reprieve.
All efforts seeking comfort; doctors, medications
Provided little relief.
Certainly not suicidal,
But so very tired, lost.

He was there, she had heard about Him,
The stories could not be true could they?
He was just a man, like any other,
But somehow, different, so much more.
Without understanding; she knew,
He was the one.

He was her grasp at hope.
If only she could somehow get near Him.
He had healed others; forgiveness.
She only had to reach out
And touch the hem of His garment.
Then…a miracle.....the endless bleeding stops.

Matthew 9:21-22
She was thinking to herself, “If I can just put a finger on his robe, I’ll get well.” Jesus turned—caught her at it. Then he reassured her: “Courage, daughter. You took a risk of faith, and now you’re well.” The woman was well from then on.

Gazing from the crest of a hill
Endless waving grasslands
No trees, buffalo, or Indian on horseback
Just wide open plains

Heavy low hanging clouds above
Strong winds whipping about; a storm
In the far far distance
Rays of light bursting through; hope.

Desiring warmth but lost, confused
As if a spark or firefly
Drifting, floating, no direction
Unable to find the way

Appearing within arms reach on the summit,
Stretching unbroken to the enlightened horizon
A wooden three rail fence.
HIS strength and support.
Guidance for the journey towards hope and joy.

Bleeding continuously,
Until one day
The pain wakes
In Peace.

All co-create with God; the beauty that arises from within.

Bubbling broth
Full of bits of chicken
Carrots, celery, onion, spices
Egg noodles boil 45 minutes
Return the meat to the soup
A delicious dinner
Served

Distracted, forgotten
Noodles not just browned
Scorched, charred, ruined.
Rescue the unblackened bits
Dream of dinner
Not realized
Enough?

The best ***
Bottom covered
Black, thick, hard, welded.
Dispose of the pan, or try?
Return it to the stove
Water boiling slowly
Releasing

Black flaking
Lots of work ahead
Scrubbing, scrapping, painful.
Frustration, time, heal.
Returning, renewed determination
No longer perfect.
Loved

Need just one card
Then I could win
Flipping through the deck one more time.
But the Ace of Diamonds never surfaced.
Giving up, scrolling across the screen,
There it was! The card I had searched for
In front of me all the time.

I had lost big time in life.
Everything held as important was gone.
Wondering how to ever get it right
When I had tried so hard!
Letting go of everything
Sitting under the Banyan tree pondering......
My consciousness experienced Him.

An infinite God is not easily
Spotted from a finite perspective.
Especially since we have never
Known a moment of our existence without Him.
He is the big bang of all the multiple universes' out there.
He is endlessly smaller than any semi conductor findings.
His is a part of every thought within each of us.

Walking away from everything I held as important,
Wondering how life could be different,
Knowing that my efforts could always be thwarted.
Asking, "How can I get it right?"
Then and only then
Did I finally see the card always before me.
The one card I needed to win the game.

No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draw him,
and I will raise him on the last day. John 6: 44

Beloved, do not be surprised a trial by fire is occurring among you, as if something strange were happening to you. But rejoice to the extent that you share in the sufferings of Christ, so that when His glory is revealed you may also rejoice exultantly." 1 Peter 4: 12-13

*Jesus said to his disciples: "Amen, amen, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains just a grain of wheat; but if it dies, it produces much fruit."   John 12: 24

Always stays close to me,
         While out on a walk
                   Or in the house.
Always aware of my presence,
         Watching
                   Waiting.
The moment I call,
         He jumps up
                   Responding.
When he holds still beside me,
         I scratch his head and neck
                   Or gently rub his tender spots.
He makes mistakes but never runs to hide,
         In regret, he lowers his ears,
                   Knowing I will love him no matter what.
If my dog is capable of this behavior,
         Why is it such a struggle for me?
                   Giving my loyalty and obedience
To God, my loving Lord and Savior,
         Who is always with me,
                   Wanting what is best for me.

You can tell by the rat like ears still attached to the skull
and the long hairless tail that it was a large possum.
But now, the body is completely decimated
Flesh lying in the middle of the road.
Not too far from it’s mother
the adolescent did not walk away when given the chance.
Unable to comprehend what life was to be now
It perished as well.

Disgusting you say? I’d agree!
But we humans do it to ourselves all the time.

When the tragedy happens we hold on
Unable to let go of the anger, bitterness and fear.
So often we sit in the darkness too long
Loosing site of all that life offers.
So much better to wake up! Let go!
Walk into a beautiful and bright tomorrow!

I grew up in a time of gold.
14 ct. gold jewelry was desired.
Brass fixtures were shiny and popular.
We reached for door handles that were golden.

Then design began to darken.
The bright reflection was antiqued away.
Eventually aged to bronze,
Until darkening to a wise old black.

Working with my daughter,
I have found she grew up in silver.
Silver jewelry, picture frames and faucets.
Her world is white, nickel and gray.

The perspective is hard for me to grasp.
How does one immersed in gold begin to see silver?
And how do I share with her the value of
14 ct. gold as it has aged?

The kittens were being devoured by coyotes.
Brought the last four to safety and love.
The neighbors wild duck
Hatched thirteen precious ducklings.
The kittens hunted them, endlessly.

God created them all.
They are  each precious in His sight.
Can one be sacred, the other profane?
God loves all aspects of each of their behaviors.
Gives me confidence, He can love mine.

"Creation is the primary and most perfect revelation of the divine."
                                                                            ~Thomas Aquinas

"God remains in immediate sustaining attentiveness to everything that exists, precisely in its 'thisness'."
                                                                             ~John Duns Scotos

It seems like a good idea,
A universal common currency,
Available to everyone.

It seems like a good idea,
Quarks are the basic building blocks
Of all atoms and molecules.

It seems like a good idea,
With the right energy they can
Convert into anything.

It seems like a good idea,
To recycle all to quarks.
No waste. Available upon demand.

It seems like a good idea,
Storage piles by type.
Up, down, straight, charmed, bottom and top.

It seemed like a good idea,
Until realizing everything can disappear,
“Cashed In”

It seemed like a good idea,
Even air becomes a commodity
To be sold/ controlled.

Does it seem like a good idea?
Could humanity ever be trusted?

Gazing out the window into the thriving garden
Beauty filling the space between buildings
The leaves on scrubs suddenly shaken
A small sapling is set into motion.

Pondering possible causes of the commotion.....
....Eruption having occurred in consecutive order....
It's not wind; perhaps a large or energetic animal.....
Cat? Dog? Maybe a squirrel?

I continue watching as people enter the garden.
The animal may hide or run away.
A squirrel will scamper into view, hiding on the side of the oak.
Amazing, there he comes, holding position before me.

That is what God has been like.
I have searched for Him in His garden.
Seeing signs but never able to know for certain.
Only learning to detect where he may have been.

After the world had become too difficult,
I stopped, totally lost; finally sitting still.
Looking out at life's possibilities with an open mind.
It was then, God appeared. Just like the squirrel.

"Revelation is God allowing himself to be recognized."
                                                 Edward Schillebeeckx

There must have been a story
For the scar upon my hand,
How? I cannot remember.

Invisible scars on my heart
Are unforgettable stories,
Never completely healed.

*"My grief is beyond healing, my heart is sick within me...For the wound of the daughter of my people is my heart wounded."
Jeremiah 8:18

Strolling leisurely through a vast realm of nothingness
Ahead appears a whirling vortex of static,
Flashing specs of black, gray and white pulsating, alive.
Glancing several feet above at the pinnacle, questioning
Why is it here? What is it’s meaning?

Ambling around the outskirts of the throbbing pile,
At a loss for understanding; then choosing to venture on,
When one last glance over a shoulder brings revelation.
It is God. Alive and calling.
An infinite Being that cannot be defined.

The static is all of the attempts of humanity to cry out.
All the words ever written or spoken captured and added to the mass.
Every spec created for pointing to the One who loves each of us.
The vortex can morph, recompile as we each need.
That we may have what is necessary to BELIEVE.

When the toilet flushes
        the water goes down a little slow
Doesn't look bad enough to worry about
        so you tell yourself, “It will be OK.”
The next day the flush is not getting better,
        it is far worse….
Waiting for the moment you’re stressed & hurried
        then a massive eruption occurs!
Leaving a brown lumpy disaster all over the floor.

Disgusting you say? I’d agree!
        But we humans do it to ourselves all the time.

We get upset about something little
        that won’t go away
It continues to pester and because it nags
        the next small slight sticks a little more
Knowing we need to utilize the plunger
        Helping these issues find release
But we don’t, we deny forgiveness without
        understanding that it was never for them.
It was so the excrement doesn't overflow
        leaving a mess too difficult to clean up.

Theory has it
Our universe is vibrating filament
Membranes of energy.
Includes supernumerary
Connecting particles.
The words of science articles.

Faith traditions have always called-
How life energy flows through us all.
The angels carry their harps
Vibrating strings, touching hearts.
Other dimensions, better or worse.
Just new words to an ancient verse.

Radiating from passing windshields
Is a beam of brilliant blue light.
More bright than I have ever seen!
Watching for miles, I am puzzled
No passing vehicle is without.

Inquiring of the passenger, “Do you see?”
They notice nothing unusual.
How can that be? So radiant it almost blinds.
Good thing I have on these new sunglasses,
With a special filter, OH………

I think of myself as the
Watcher of the Lighthouse.
I keep crying out, “Right there.”
God is within that thought, that moment.
I write hoping others catch a glimpse.

Each of us has a true self, within.
An amazing connection
Uniting us with God and the universe.
Everything shares HIS radiant glory.
Until others find their songlasses, I will keep pointing.

*We are the temple of the living God;
as he said, “I will live in them and move among them,
I will be their God and they will be my people.” Corinthians 6:16

A gentle energy force
Starts from deep within
Immediately permeates every cell,
Every molecule of the body alights.

As thought and heart are openly lifted to God,
He presses the button marked GLOW.

In search of peace; can find none.
Existence is bare of everything, only consciousness within the night.
The silence unveils an enormous resting hand.
Only the hand, the huge unknown Being is lost to shadow.
Calmly, patiently, lying there open with the palm turned upward,
Beckoning, come.

Exhausted, lost, in want of rest.
Choosing to accept opportunity, approaching loving presence.
Within the folds, a step found to climb upward.
Finally......... a safe place to rest.
Curling up in the loving palm as a babe in its mother’s womb,
It is here one can know peace and begin to heal.

He came in the night
Calling from the darkness
Sharing, always instructing
Helping improve her skills.

She is focused, attentive,
Desperate to learn
Becoming the best she can
Until, one day called to perform.

His song unfolds through her.
Becoming so much more,
She now sings the high notes
With a pure vibrato.

"I will bless the Lord who gives me counsel, who even at night directs my heart." Psalm 16: 7

Reading Robert Frost
I could not help but notice,
He always points to God
But never uses His name.

Joe Adomavicia wrote,
“You asked me if I would write
For you, I laughed.”
Who asked that of Joe?

God asks me and while I laugh, I write.
Is it better to leave Him out of the poem?
To always allude to His ways and gifts?
Without naming Him? I think not.

Instead I will directly point,
“Two roads diverged….
And I took the one less traveled by,
And it has made all the difference.”

I have tramped around the vineyard
Watched others toil in the fields
When called I never answered
Someone else can harvest the yield!

I would support those who worked
Trying to meet their needs.
Outside the fence line I lurked
Keeping down the weeds.

Maybe I'd drive the truck
Loaded to the brim.
Or dance, stomping in the muck
Juice so deep one could swim.

But into the vineyard I will not go
Beautiful as it may be.
Watching the vines as they grow
From outside I will be free.

Then one day it happened
I was pushed over the fence
Upon the ground I'd flattened
And found I'd been so dense.

Inside was so much more
Than I had ever dreamed
There was truth behind the lore
I truly am redeemed.

The vineyard is my home.
I never want to leave.
It is for those who only roam
That I will always grieve.

*Songs of Solomon 7:12
let us go out early to the vineyards, and see whether the vines have budded, whether the grape blossoms have opened and the pomegranates are in bloom. There I will give you my love.

The divorce is final
Legally it is changed
But until notices are sent
I have two names.

Moving time has come
So many items to be discarded
The rest is carried on
Possessions lost in two homes.

Have always worked in accounting
Volunteered whenever possible
Applications sent, wanting to serve others
Between two jobs?

On this difficult journey I learned
That God is absolutely real
We are never just one
Always, at least two.

Wanting to be known,
          Heard, understood, supported.

Wanting to be held,
          Rest, strength, protection.

Wanting to be touched,
          Awakened, cherished, excited.

Wanting to surrender,
          Consumed, united, filled.

Wanting to love,
           Breathless, pleasing, forever.

*Oh, get up, dear friend,
    my fair and beautiful lover—come to me!
Come, my shy and modest dove—
    leave your seclusion, come out in the open.
Let me see your face,
    let me hear your voice.
For your voice is soothing
    and your face is ravishing.
Song of Solomon 2: 13, 14

Campaign signs produce visual noise at every intersection.
One candidate’s immense signs sit back at a distance.
Boldly printed across the top, the name is never fully in view.
Portions are blocked by people waiting at the bus stop
or other street signs or low hanging leaf filled branches.
Always perplexing.

I can see the person who wants my vote
no better than the hidden parts of the name on the sign.
Glimpses flash in the media never giving a full vision of character.
If elected, can they persevere through the torment and adulation's so that "a government of the people, by the people, and for the people
shall not perish from the earth"?