Billows

Last night, on my bike
drinking a draft
of breezes and billows
I played upon the black street
and surely felt God's pleasure

Morning star, I cannot find thee
clouds have passed between us

Bright and Beautiful

All things bright and beautiful
The weight of the sky

Marigolds, turn towards the sun
with dewdrops in their eyes

Lovers sit, moving inch by inch
closer in the night

(wordless chorus)

Mother's voice, father's arms
wrapped around me tight

meek and mild, woman's smile
it fills me with delight

winter's chill, water in the pail
hardened into ice

(wordless chorus)

When I am old, and lowly go
the simplest of things will carry me home
no ebon crows will fly above
in love we are all tangled up

God is a Grand Weaver

Haiku - Sept. 16 (it's one syllable too long, but who cares?)

All threads belong to
God - who is a grand weaver
with caring artists' hands

Change - My Father's breath is

How fine you are
how fine it is to
see you
growing in the ways
He has shown us
moved us
how fine to
know you in the ways
you have shown me
growing
ever taller
greener, reaching
in the wind
the wind is my Father's
breath
my Father's breath is change.

Haiku 1/20

Miracle worker
fairest bloom and brightest star
my heart's truest home

St. Christopher the Comforter

St. Christopher the Comforter

God, do you love to hear me babble?
Bible school cliches burst forth
seemingly unchecked
and all I want to tell her is
You are Loved!

You are loved, and the Love that cared enough
to wrest you from the grave
will guide you over these rifts.

The Love that saw you at your worst
and called out "daughter! come to me"
has not left your side.

And you are truly Loved,
by this fierce and gentle Love
which whispers and whispers
and whispers

...trust me

with all your heart, trust me.