As I breathed in deep fresh air,
its sharpness a timely kick to my lungs,
I uttered words of praise to God –
these words were unfeigned honest feelings.
Instantly a smothering weariness slackened its grip, faith and nature the sure-fire tonic to fragments of a bruised soul.
Overhead, Terns coasted: side to side like a pendulum.
Swirling unseen, the wind stroked my exposed skin
as the springy grass began to waltz between my uncovered toes –
the sunlit reflections on a glassy brook
unveiling a gaiety
etched on my widening smile.
Crisp water in cupped palms slapped against my butter-soft cheeks
that flushed a plump-wine-red
(full of fruitful vigour),
and satisfied the thirst for assurance – invariably found within the Lord.

Of all the moms that grace my life,
     Mom, you're the mom that's best of all.
I thank You, God, for my awesome mom,
     The bestest mom since mankind's fall.

Innumerable . . . stars are
countless joys so immeasurably far
laughter . . . shimmering silently
or lamenting twinkling tears

mysterious messengers fluoresce
what wonders are wrought . . . so wordless
in spiral formulae undiscovered
inscribed by ancient seers

a murmuring quiescence pulsates
to a childlike sorrowful  plea
eternity pauses to listen
to a prayer . . . from Gethsemane


wh gv Mar.16.2007

On sixth day:
you made us after your likeness,
to go on to be fruitful and multiply,
The Images of worth;
of a great love's flamed fuel,
You paid for it all, for the weight of my sin.

Jesus held it all.

In the abundance of life,
Like a piece of art;
your love an ornament in my eyes.
You saw me as herald and royal,
even when I didn’t feel as much.

Bare of my heart; guiltless of my shame,
naked, being vulnerable into your love.
I have no cares of this world to sustain me,
I've been left empty by it,
though on it's rocky grounds; the righteous
aren't shaken.

The God of my all; in the little that I have,
The words of Salvation; in the promises you've made,
The light of my path; on the days that I walk,
The song of protection; in life’s destructive chorus,
The echo of light; for the brightest of days.

On shaky ground; His foundations are my steady,
In empty days; He’s the fullest to my mornings,
To what do I owe to be given such love?

Nothing! Of what good works can give,
But rather the praise and adoration I have for him.
Nothing! Of what seems impossible,
Will be too impossible for Him.
Nothing! Of what the enemy plans,
Can stand against in the wayside of Him.
Nothing! Of my constant worries,
Will stop the love of the Lord our King.

Nothing! Is impossible,
for nothing is as great as Him.

The Holy Bible, th'historie of man,
     And God and man, and God as man on earth;
     The true account of how the world began;
The treasure mapp that leades to love and mirth;
The looking glasse wherein is seene the faire
     Image of God, and all mans ugly sinnes;
     The written word of God for ev'ry heir
Of saving grace who runnes the race and winnes;
The booke of lyfe writ in my Saviours bloud,
     Dictated by the Spirits whisper'd breath;
     The foil for ev'ry curse; the cure for death;
The greatest booke about the greatest good;
     The pasture for the sheepe; the sheepefold rod;
     Manna from heav'n; the ladder up to God.

Do as thou,
upon thine great love,
as sweetest true.
As thy lips spoke
worded wine vines;
thine maturity is in a knoweth of you.

Tis many zephyr of voices;
solely one true whisper of truth
thine ears do hark.
Furthest miles I've tend feet;
to descry purity of goodness,
Still short, for wickedness rests of mine heart.
Unworthy by ur thought;
feeling unworthy to thou, O' God.

Still, of thine acknowledgement of love;
myself not forgotten,
as so redeemed,
Liken to a resting shadow under the rising son.

Deemed forth light;
shone out as vessels.

So Lord,
let your will be done of it's great love,
and all it's sweetest truths.
As I speak of you;
my words of grape vines,
has a maturity from knowing you.

Despite the world's many voices;
you're the whisper of truth in my ear.
I tried to find on my own,
a purity of goodness. But I fell so short,
because of the wickedness in my heart.
So I began to believe; I was unworthy,
and felt unworthy before you God.

But you still showed me your love,
remembering me;
and had me redeemed.
I was once a shadow,
but saved by the Death and Resurrection of Jesus Christ.

Now his light lives in me;
and I am his vessel.

For in first sights of morning,
he places a breath of love in my lungs,
the echoes of strength in my beating heart.
And the ways to my first steps of the day,
freely as his bountiful vessel.

Thanks be to God,
For every good and perfect gift
Comes down from the Father of lights
Who causes us in Christ
The world to overcome
And to joyfully sing.  

I am a man flawed,
A Christian the Devil will sift
For a season.  But the serpent bites
His own tongue, in time; and I, imparadised,
Will ask him when he's dumb,
Death, where is thy sting?

And where evil rests'
Lies their hands:
As lust appears in eyes'
They've all tasted it's flesh:
And what came of heart'
Twas the blood of Man' scars.

Under the first sun'
We've risen from dust;
From bone, woman to flesh
And what hung under fruit'
Twas the taste of it's sin.

In the open dry land'
Were two of one womb;
One of worship, other jealousy:
For when the latter grew'
Twas the stone that killed.

So man' sin continued on:

As for it's sake;
The Earth needed a piece of God'
For their sins to branch off;
His child placed on wooden Cross.

And so-
Heaven's fallen flower; Rose.

I close my eyes and
Try to imagine all the
Impossible things—

The things that God has
Done that I simply can’t wrap
My little head ‘round—

The continents He’s
Designed, the canyons forged and
The rivers that He

Made to flow, all the
Flowers He taught to grow that
Bloom in their seasons.

The world sings of the
Power of God, of the One
Creator of all.

This world He did sculpt
All for us with His perfect
Paintbrushes of love.