Saving Rope

The world, precariously held

On Atlas' shoulders, shakes

And, shudders.  Spins out of control.

What are we to make

Of changes, charges, clash, and chaos,

Threatening and real?

Life, so precious, in the balance;

Is there room to heal?

Is there time?  Is there time?

Or, have we squandered hope?

What will it take for climbing souls

To cling to saving rope?

Rain Drops

Rain drops soft, yet large,

Fall to earth from sky.

Quiet tears shed

From self-conscious eye;

Reminding me to mourn,

Reminding me to grieve

For loved ones who have passed.

God's grace, my one reprieve.

Where Wild Birds Sing . . .

The house is empty.

Alone, I'm here.

The silence swells

To quiet.  Clear

Sound beyond sound,

As walls inhale

And windows sigh,

The roof exhales.

I open door

And walk outside

Where wild birds sing

And lives collide

With blessings pure;

God's presence, sure.

Raining Sand

"Look, Gammie, raining sand!"

Through Virginia's fingers slide

Moist grains, trickling tear drops

Effortlessly descend; glide

From embracing hands.  Set free

To be welcomed far below,

In sandbox rest, finding home.

The peace grains share, we yearn to know.

Crown of Thorns

Among the living,

Death dwells.

Stalking, lurking

In the shadows,

For, in darkness,

Death fears nothing.

Shows its face.

Mocks believers.

Taunts and jeers.

Yet, there is light

Upheld on high

In crown of thorns:

Eternal life.

A Great Nation

I will make you

A great nation,

Says the Lord.

Under God,

United.  One.

Souls together,

Standing strong.

Yet, idols fashioned

Come between

Offered grace,

Redemption's plan.

Promise made

To us by God, 

We spurn, reject.

No comfort now

In once great nation

He would make

If we allowed.

We stand forlorn.

We stand alone.