Leaves Much to be Desired

Leaves are bits of rare gold-dust swirling, whirling, down to man; ruby, russet, emerald that cover up the browning grass like jewels. Such renewals start by dropping gems like glass shattering hues till reassembled green can peak from trees again. The currency exchange we trust. – – Photo by Jessica Fadel on Unsplash

Fireflies

Winter to spring to summer in a blur of tedium and tears, but then the timid, swelling glow of light against stale night. I forgot about the fireflies.

A Beautiful Rivalry

Kelly, sea, emerald, pine the vibrant life-green seems unshy– sage, and hunter, every shade to bandy beauties with the sky. – Blue as vivid heaven’s soul unrivaled here in realms of clouds, it sweeps election every day most popular, and bright and Loud. – But hear a word for foliage: you never notice life around […]

Surprised

Still expecting winter, I found a violet in the moss.

Melenorian

He felt the call as clearly as the horn that echoed through the trees at Amon Hen; and quickly rose in answer lest the warn be lost and all destroyed without true men. But no one else had caught that solemn call, and when they tried to hear the notes of light that haunt from […]

A Rainy December Evening

Cozy— the world tucked in under blue-grey wool. Shiny— the street light swimming in puddles. Charming— all the little footsteps of the rain wandering east.

Fairer than the Dawn

Oh Savior you are beautiful fair beyond the sun that’s lately run its daily done and dips to sea again. – Your ways are deeper than the sea, and light danced ember waves. The secret graves of hidden caves are known before your eyes. – Your eyes can pierce the blackest night and thus you […]

Things Exist

Things exist to be, they said to pulse, and jive, and jest. No deeper mean, just lean, they said for things exist to be. – But all is bright and rich we feel, a vasting meadow span that makes our life-light keen, we feel for things exist…in He

Thanksgiving: the Word

Father, thank You for Your Word— the place where eyes gather marks of ink, but hearts behold the beauty of the LORD. –

Thanksgiving: Rainy Commutes

You gave the chance to fly— silver canvas street, and I, thrilled to join the fleet, steered my car on to the sky. Father, thank You for rainy commutes. –