Just finished making my little tomato/avocado salad and popped it in the fridge. Now? Well the burritos will at some point be put in the oven for dinner, but that point is still far off. It’s a Friday evening and while it’s been a good week…also been a tiring one. Wonderfully – a quiet night is now at hand! I wish I could say I’d try and write a bit, but not sure it’s in the cards. Perhaps a poem or two, perhaps. And really at some point I should work a bit more on my long prose. But for the now, I’m oh so grateful for a night where I can simply rest in our cosy apartment at the end of a long week. I think a bit of quality classical music is in order and of course a candle. And books? Without question. I’m close to finishing up Mere Christianity – a joy and delight as expected, a vigorous fresh breeze of truth and clarity. And I may also read a bit more of my WWI book – Sleepwalkers, which is inordinately fascinating and I really can’t put it down, though I must at some point in order to make time for book club book – Mrs. Dalloway. I think that last shall be the crown jewel of the evening for there is almost nothing that I enjoy more than to open a new book and sink deep into the world within. Well in actuality there is a list of probably ten or more things that I enjoy more, but I shall not bore you now by listing those off. Let me simply end by saying how grateful I am for a night of rest. And of course – the joy that fills my heart as I thrill at the thought that I am a child of God. Peace, my friends. Peace and love.
Bricks and Ivy
rain drip drips down from heaven
and she shudders
pulls her collar up
in the unexpected cold
yet her thoughts dwell on abiding joy
for as expectant darkness hovers
the morning birds their songs sing
even in the damp
on gallops spring!
Delighted To Be Sure
she deflected my question
as she leaned back against
the old antique stove
and asked if i wanted a cup of tea
what could i reply to that
but sure
and then as she busied herself with the kettle
i turned back to the table and cut a couple pieces of cake
one for me
and one for her
so now when she handed me the steaming mug of chamomile
i was armed and gave her what she’d had her eyes on
this whole entire time
the chocolate chocolate cheesecake that was her greatest dream
and as her eyes widened in that characteristic joy
i grabbed my mug and sipped and almost burnt my tongue
yet it was worth it without question
to see that smile that never fails
to outshine the sun
Louisa
lightly she galloped up the mountain
her feet barely touching the rich green grass
instead she soared and leaped and yes
even flew
as her eyes focused on the still higher
quickly moving stream
for if she dared to cross it
and win the alpine meadow for her own
there’d plenty of wildflowers to pick and treasure
perhaps even a wild mountain rose
and then when she had a full and hearty bouquet
then she would be happy to descend at pace slightly
more leisurely
but wonder do you what she did when all a sudden
clouds sprang upon the scene
and thunder bellowed and lightning struck
and rain soaked her head to toe
perhaps her fortitude would be sorely tested
and her spirit promptly damped
but instead her eyes shone all the greater
and still up the mountain she danced
for a little rain was not enough to thwart her
and into the teeth of the storm she laughed!
and soon enough the clouds gave up the onslaught
and the drenched young maiden continued on
her hair wet and dripping down her back
but who cares for that when again
shone the sun!
and finally near dry she crossed the little streamlet
and let her feet feel all nice and cool
but not to be too distracted
she kept her gaze pointed at the wind tossed rainbow hue
her flowers were here and hers alone and enough for an armful
and many more to spare
oh but what is that whistle that sounds from the hut on the horizon
is it another little girl now coming out to play?
perhaps they can gather flowers now together
and sing and dance and laugh and pray
and then a hearty supper of stew and boiled potatoes
and lots of berries black and sweet
for though flowers are nice to look at and truly very lovely
a bouquet is not at all for one to eat!
so now the maidens tired at last from all their toils
sit around a little fire and look at their flowers dear
and eat their fill and a little more still
and whisper of things they fear
for the night has come and dark has fallen
and ghost stories are fun to share
yet the girls hearts are full
and their feet are warm
and they have flowers in their hair.
The Man Who Had Died Came Forth
Oh how glorious a time it was this morning at church, surrounded by hundreds who lifted up their voices and sang to our God on high. We sang his praises and lifted up our hands to the one who saves us and offers us eternal life with him. And indeed as our final words rang out ascribing glory to our Lord, I couldn’t help but imagine what it would be one day when surrounded not by hundreds but by thousands (and many myriads of thousands more) when we sing with faces blazing in the light that is shining from the face of God. One day this will be true in the kind of sense that our slow and creeping minds cannot now quite comprehend. One day for true our lives will flicker to the rhythm of a new song, indeed a song that will never end. Our voices will sing holy holy holy to the one who was and the one who is and the one who is to come. And we will see the Lamb of God with our own eyes and our new scribed bodies quiver with the bliss that is only right for those who are called true sons. Oh how glorious a day that will be and now I meditate on that moment when the kingdom is finally fully here in a way it can never be right now. For sure this kingdom is partially now but still not yet culminated is the final resurrection and the moment when the angels cry glory as they see the glory that has been won. But think now on these thoughts that fill my mind and I muse in uplifted wonder that even now in this quiet moment on my quiet couch I write in the presence of very God. His Spirit fills me even as he has sealed me and peace floods my soul. Now my voice whispers glory glory oh glorify your name. And in a small still voice printed on these pages I see written that he has and that he will. And so forever do I cherish the indisputable fact that I now reside in shocking sonship of the very God to whom my soul longs to forever cling. Ever confident in the blood that Jesus shed for me I can now only cry glory glory glory glory to my King.
Fountains
once upon a time in a world not so different from our own
spoke a man to a woman of truths of things unseen
and though for a moment she hesitated wondering if perhaps
he spoke in a way that seemed insane
instead she listened for a moment more
and in that moment for eternity
her life was changed
so why now would we not think more deeply
on the myth that just might be true
and consider what it means
to believe in the one
who died and rose
and even now stretches out a hand
to you
Banquet
pay closer attention to these things your ears have heard
rest your eyes upon these green and lush pasturelands
through the gate which before you rises
enter in for your salvation!
for chief is this cornerstone
this festal sacrifice upon the altar laid
light of the world in whom we have true and perfect rest
oh blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!
do not drift away from our solemn and most sacred faith
feast on sweeter meats that are passed down the table
and rest your soul upon this precious faith of which
author and perfecter is
our good shepherd
Jesus
Rehearsal
She places the wildflower behind my ear. Ever so gently she adjusts it and then – she smiles at me, satisfied with her work. There you go, you’re a delight to behold. Feeling a bit silly, I grin back. If you insist, my love. Only for you. And so now we mosey on down the trail towards the falls far ahead. We can hear them now, but barely. The sound of water crashing is music to my ears and I thrill to imagine the rainbow through the spray. But first the path afore us must be trod. I reach out my hand and feel her fingers with my own. For a few minutes we walk without conversation as the symphony of the forest fills our ears. Down through the canopy filters late afternoon sunlight dappling the path in patterns grander and more wild than any painter could fathom. We are close now as we see the trees begin to dance back away from the path. Oh there! Her clear voice breaks into the symphony like a trumpet call from the balcony. I see it I reply. And then I cannot help but ask. Do you hear the music? She smiles and nods in response as we feel the mist upon our face. And oh do you smell the violets? Strong and pure and sweet their scent rises to dance upon the breeze. She turns slightly towards me, the smile still hovering on her lips in subconscious joy. There are rainbows in her eyes.
The Flowers of the Field
Oh sometimes I delight in the warm spring days of March. This one the temperature may be slightly higher than I would prefer yet no complaints. Dani and I had an ever so lovely walk down the MKT trail, enjoying the strong breeze that heralds drier air approaching. The sun smiled down upon us and the blue sky shone inviolate. Many other walkers were enjoying the same path as we, and I enjoyed the presence of fellow human souls bustling to and fro as Dani and I enjoyed sweet conversation and sweeter smiles turned upon each other. And now back home! Because it is positively too nice outside to stay indoors for long, I am thinking the poolside calls my name. A cold drink in hand and a new book beckons. This ides of March is one to be delighted in I say.
Wildflowers
i yawn as the early light tiptoes through the blinds
breakfast is really simple today she says
and that’s exactly what i’m in the mood for
scrambled eggs and toast with avocado spread
later as i sip my black coffee i say
these quiet springtime mornings
are my fav
Something Weird 