Your little Ray of sunshine
Drop by drop made my
Dark cloudy sky shine
With full of hope.
It's leading me to the
Dazzling glory of
Everlasting success.

ideas are wordless, in the wild,

in the willful tongue untamed
they twist and bend and prevaricate,

wait, that voice,
put that in words, and give up the glory,

all you did was listen,
or read. Thank you.

Least said, soonest mended.

She was born under the scorching sun,
The one, whom only death could outrun.
The moon praised her beauty,
And the warriors sheathed, upon her glory.

She made the stars fall,
The whole world reaches out when she calls.
The darkness was her ally,
No wings, still no one could stop her to fly.

For she was the queen of hearts,
Like the king of spades.
Nothing dared to go against,
Cause with her glow, everything seems faded...

she tries so hard to please others
when all that matters in the end
is that she pleases her Heavenly Father
and brings glory to His name
all else will fall away

Amidst the glory of the music
And the triumph of letting go,
The sun seemed to brighten every corner of the room.
It framed it into a picture
Painting out the beauty
Of the simple love
Friendship brings.
When the sun finally set and it was quiet,
I knew that I'd keep that moment with me forever,
And though the sun will be shining again,
I hope I never forget the way it shined
When we lived in that time-stilled moment
And all the world was, was
The sun and the music.

I read of this little orchestra of players
who made instruments of trash
reminded me how God uses strayers
like Moses, David, and Johnny Cash
recycled their failures into glory.
They found a flash or flicker
of faith to make a moving story.
They gave their flaws to the Fixer.

I see the detritus and lessons of my past
a guy whose mind was all over the place
who soared, swooped, leveled and crashed
was thrown out reaching for second base
whose heart was wounded, erratic and hurt
but had a treasury of teachers on his path
who inspired and encouraged the introvert
to use words instead of physics or math.

Yes, words became my friends
opened vistas of meaning and learning
paid limitless dividends
set my curiosity and wonder burning.
Fragments of imagination
bubbled up like a spring
moments of ****** inspiration
of darkness and light took wing.

The salve of poetry has brought healing
its warm oils and sweet scent
delivered me from darker feelings
gave me vigor when I was spent
gave me drink in the dessert
brought me moments of glory
in a world of hurt
helped me tell my story.

So like those Paraguay players
making music from trash
from all of life’s layers
of flowers and ash
I’ve been to the mountain peak
and to fertile green places
in my true voice I now speak
and swim in glorious graces.

Why should the Light return upon
Our cold and darkened land?  
When, into sleep, we drift and yawn,
So thoughtless of His hand...

We never think: "Someday it may
Forever cease to shine!"
We never thank – with thanks, befit –
For Morning Mercies' rise.

Why should the Light return upon
Our cold and darkened land?
But to awaken life at dawn
As He, in Goodness, planned...

We never, then, have an excuse
To fall into a dream
We never, then, can e’re accuse;
His Glory’s, daily, seen.

.

Endurance at its best
Standing still in time
To be made perfectly
To seek its clarity
You can decide
Preparation or
No return make
Sure your aware
When it's your turn.