The drizzling raindrops seem to say that all the things we love will not dissolve in sorrow. – That when the master made the watch he wound it tight…and stayed, refreshing each tomorrow.Read more "Rain"
I wonder if that frog thinks the world is just a fevered dream inside his pond… – or does his mirror reflect, in green- translucent shine, the way creation always meant to be?Read more "Frog"
The breeze blew by so gently It seemed the promise of my dreams had come to call. A breath like rain-dropped grass, it said the ground had greened at last and put her apron on.Read more "Wind"
I watched a flower give itself— a thousand tiny strands— that wafted into wind and grew a field of dandelionsRead more "Life"
The earth is really still the same when winter winds subside and sunshine flows while warmly blows the breath of spring again. – The earth is different every time the dead things turn to green and seeds that died now quickly ride their stems to life…againRead more "Spring"
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"
Creaking with the cold: groaning, sugar-sprinkled pond. Highway for a squirrel. – Plunks of sky break glass. Tiny ringlets: small, then large. Spirals in a pond. – Water flees away! Restless waves reverberate. The tire swing sways. – Whirling with the wind, ghostly whisks of red and brown mirrored in the glass – – – […]Read more "Seasons: Four Haiku"
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"
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"