Thanksgiving: Pain

Father, thank You for the pain— a gentle honesty that holds the body in useless stillness to say, Any strength we have is given. Father, thank You for the sorrow— an earnest loyalty that rends the heart with throbbing losses to say, The only home we have is Heaven. –

Thanksgiving: Writers

My friends from every age— I may not know their faces, but I have met their souls in frozen, concrete traces— inscriptions on a page. Father, thank You for writers. –

Thanksgiving: Work

Father, thank you for work— the everyday tasks that fill our hands— more satisfying than pleasures bought with stolen time. –

The Glasses

When man first came to be and watched from out the windows of his eyes the shifting world about he saw the shine of sunlight on the waves and perceived, invisible, the rushing brush that bowed the trees, he knew the richness of his world and loved it. – When man first turned his mind […]

Thanksgiving: Home

The world is wide, and all its wonders, calling— mountains and castles and streams. But I am tired, and all my heart-steps, craving— not mountains, not castles—but home. Thank you, Lord, for home. –

Thanksgiving: Friends

Father, thank You for friends— the lamp light on the dark road home that gilds the rocks before our feet and shines—seen or unseen— however far across the earth we roam, still burning past the line where darkness ends.

Thanksgiving: Sundays

Father, thank You for Sundays— brothers and sisters huddled at your feet, singing to You and remembering You and waiting for You— sweet foreshadows of Home. –

Thanksgiving: Music

We think we see it, but the gliding bows and fingers dancing on the strings are only keys to hidden portals, unlocking sounds of a higher realm— a beautiful language that fills the hall, speaking not to eyes, but to the heart. Thank You, Lord, for music. […]

Thanksgiving: A Beautiful Night

Father, thank You for this night— the moon ascending on a starlit chair above illumined edges of the clouds—all white— the frozen earth below, ashimmer in its gaze, the silhouetted trees uplifting empty hands in praise, a lonely leaf wandering on the wisps of wind, and I, admiring, wondering, smiling, there within the artwork of […]

A Blustery Morning

The promise of winter rides the charging wind. Dark clouds pace the sky, prophesying doom. The weeping willows wail and thrash in protest. Leaves, by the thousands, jump—a frenzy in slow motion— then rush the streets with panicked footfalls to escape. Not me. I read the signs like letters from a friend, and smile, knowing […]

melenoria

Poetry