Pondering

That lucid moment that parted all the pain behind from all the pain ahead— like God parting the sea and coming through to meet her— shined— brighter than the star, brighter than the angel hosts, brighter than the gleam in shepherds’ eyes. This was no stable— but a palace. These were no shepherds— but princes. […]

If I Can’t Go…

If I can’t go, I’ll grow—up to the sky like the trees do; fill up my space like the seas do; stand and be still like the peaks do— a nomad at home in the shadow of You.

Grey Fall Days

Grey days! When the leaves blaze from stalwart trees, then drift, drift away— soft, upon the breeze— to fall and brown and lay like dirt. On days like these, we cannot help but gaze. This is their closing hymn of praise.

Interdependent

The trees move; they laugh and play, they bend and sway, they wave our fears away— they who have no muscles. . The winds go; they jump and fly, they cross the sky, they race and awe our eyes— they who can’t be seen. ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Another Sunset

Time pushed us forward, and we rode the world into another sunset— another dampening of the lights, another sharpening of blue overhead, another wandering of cumulus puffs edged in liquid fire— like some breathing landscape set there long ago, waiting—just for us— today.

Writer Musings

Can we walk among the stars? Like children tether-free of earth,like comets burning holes through black, like little flecks of northern lights?And shall we leave our footprints on the moon?So far-off paths will shine in sunlit dust,and worlds will twirl on by without a word, and astronauts will not feel lonely.We will sing where sound was never heard,we […]

The Purpose of a Window

I am a window– only a window, hammered into wall, held between the worlds: I know the feel of sunshine and of dusty, closed off rooms. I am not stained glass, not a holiday of my own– just transparency. But if You’ll take water and soap and scrub the dirt from my face and set […]

A Cow’ring Flower

I am a cow’ring flower, thinking the sun in all its gold extends itself to burn me; a rigid stem, wrestling the wind as if it meant to break me; a leaf, startled at the touch of rain, convinced that it will drown me. I am a forget-me-not, knowing little and thinking far too much.

Stronghold

The Lord is my rock; the quake cannot shake Him. The Lord is my tower; the hail cannot break Him. The Lord is my anchor; the seas cannot push Him. The Lord is my sky; the earth cannot squish Him. The Lord is my song; thunder can’t drown Him. The Lord is my flight; lightning […]

Envying the Birds

Trouble swells, and we envy the birds— the way they climb the winds with wings and wander far and settle where they please while we have only feet and gravity to hold us to the earth. We squirm, as if our royal birth were some mistake; we sniff, as do the monsters at forbidden meat; […]

melenoria

Author: Holli