“Just paint it any way you choose,” the well-intentioned voices say. “Just make it beautiful today; This space is meant for you to use.” But on this canvas, I’m so small, and the brush is awkward in my hand. How will my work turn out as planned when I can’t even see it all? […]
Read more "The Painter and the Canvas"If the earth could spell tonight, I know the word that she would write for I have felt it in the wind— the dampness staying like a friend. In lonely highways—dark and stilled, spread out like pages to be filled— the little frogs come hopping through. I think that they can feel it too— the […]
Read more "Happy"Investigate a life, and you will find the fingerprints of friends.
Read more "Influence"The golden leaves have fallen now— cracked and brown and dying, swirling in the autumn air that slips around me, sighing. All that’s left of a youthful dream, conceived in winter’s wait and born beneath the sun’s warm gaze when all the trees create. So soft—the pink and white unfolding— blossoms on the trees that […]
Read more "The Golden Leaves"I’ve seen the sky break free to run, letting down a billion feet to race like school boys through the grass and plunk their footprints on my glass. Enchanted by the winsome beat, I could not miss the hiding sun.
Read more "Rain"How fair the morning glow of Spring when sunshine hikes the eastern hills and summits in the dark of night, breathing out the hopeful light. Our hearts with awe, it stills, as it wakes the slumbering birds to sing. Across the fields the daffodils unfold—a sign of pledges kept through winter’s long and harsh […]
Read more "Thoughts of Spring"Fairer than the fields of Spring, dancing in their flowery dress; dearer than the hymns we sing, hearts poured out in gratefulness; greater than the cares we bring that hard against our spirits press; the thought of Christ, our risen King, strong and fast in faithfulness!
Read more "On an Easter Morning"I see the diamonds shine, the high and sparkling shrine my reputation might have had, the feast of bread and wine, the throne that could be mine, but You have said my eyes are bad. You know that I see gold where finest dirt is sold, and castles where mere ashes lie, and feasts instead […]
Read more "A Prayer for Vision"Spring Time loves the South and cannot stay away. He notes how winter hesitates before the hills that rise gently into mountains, garbed deciduously grey, where branches made to be adorned—by leaves or snowflakes one— In breezes neither warm nor cold, can only sadly sway. As winter frets to stain her white, majestic dress on […]
Read more "On a February Day"(in hopes that he would finish his novel that I would really, really, REALLY like to read) 🙂 If all the stories ever told could fly, they’d rise like dazzling dragons through the air to breathe their flames like colors everywhere and make a moving canvas of the sky. We’d catch them one by one […]
Read more "For the Would-Be Novelist"
melenoria 