if you were sat in a chair in a room with closed door, your light spilt out Thresholds.
You did school, college & scrabble: got triplescores & blanks, double dares and heart break in crosswords where you
wrote Lyrics of Peace
Nah, you were/ are not only as sons.
You, He calls “…Pillars of the palace”*.
There will be bows of white satin &war,
there will be loveanddancesandchances
to seek treasure in Pain; uh games of gain,
of songsinGethsemane Gardens *
where the Root of you~ will blossom o’ernight, as Lilies *
Suns might fall in the sea but Woman, you
were summoned to breathe by the breath of God :
from the womb of the crust of the dust of stars:
lest you forget you arefirst born
NativesofTheLight. of Lights.
Lest you forget.
” daughters as pillars of the Palace ..”(psalm 144:12)
Hosea 14 :5:
“I will be like the dew to Israel; he will blossom like a lily. Like a cedar of Lebanon he will send down his roots;his young shoots will grow. His splendor will be like an olive tree, his fragrance like a cedar of Lebanon.
How long before Parks too will close down again? This Lil guy did not want to be seen, but few moments later he shimmied down that tree, his eyes brilliant with joy.
Why didn’t I give myself permission to talk to him? Courtesy- protocol. Sigh. I’ll never be able to walk past that rock without wondering if he’s ok.
As our State looks to more Lock down and vaccines, know what? For sure we have never peered closer at God. We as nations and homes, haven’t gazed deeper into each others eyes, haven’t admired nature, faces, leaves, skies, rocks, people;
As a race, we’ve not lingered as much at each other, socially distanced and all,
today as I read my Bible, the words came out and wrapped themselves around my head. “Give thanks..” And I had to stop beating myself over that boy I walked past at the Park. Gave myself permission to pray that he’s alright. Yes we can pray, right? My atheist friend ‘ll wag his head. Thats ok. In the end we will know for sure what we stutter at now.
Two minutes to sundown, my roses have bloomed, two tiny strawberry blossoms under honeysuckle all in our garden balcony in the sun going down, I’m staring
staring at Time thats raced, stalled, touched everything, and left this moment untouched by its arms. Am staring at news here and there about Farmers in the streets furious at somethings, staring at a sky gaudy with pink gold as if nothing matters;
as if its all still too beautiful to get ugly. Somewhere in the trees a new bird calls; I cannot distinguish its cry. It has a blue black tail and hat, all the size of my palm. Tomorrow I must paint again after we’ve boxed giveaway clothes to a Place called Liz’s Trust where a single woman with a tiny face and long arms Care takes 50 children in a house with green painted windows and lemon yellow terrace. Its my new beautiful thing: Liz’s Trust. The woman’s voice reminds me of this bird’s, not in its tone but freedom. As if there were no new 70% stronger Covid wave or Avian Flu: or questions searing colonies of humans waiting to dance again like they used to in buses and offices and bazaars.
The sun dips behind a family of palm trees as the sky sulks then dims. The new blue bird twips one last time then back flips into a gorgeous frizzed thorn tree. I’m hungry for some fruit but still can’t stop staring at colors turning slate gray, shining in the aftermath of dusk, in the memory of Light…
it is chilly. January in my city is like that, a foot in summer, but not yet. Leaves are gold, red, brown, confused and happily. I lean in a small breeze; it stammers in the curtain then settles in my shoulder. Before the day ends officially, freeze the moment- hold it close, treasure its gift. It is kind and true like its always been. Its motives are pure- it just needed to meet you, was made for you. Every leaf and piece of color, every sound and scape, made for you and me, but we are distracted by the lives of distractions. We are attracted to these; don’t ask me why. Maybe we’re just staring at some things more than others. Maybe if we chose what to stare at…maybe if we re-grouped priorities, maybe if we got away a bit, to get back to where we began, to Creations’ core, and where we first saw Beauty….maybe then we’d remember how beautiful life is…
Part of our Fellowship’s zoom candle light carols night, this was our fam’s medley of old carols and new harmonies improvised; wishing you a blessed day today and always; may the Lord of Light, Peace, Joy & true Love fill your days with His Song, all of now and the days to follow, stay precious!
Heart slamming our ribs we stare at His bouquet staring at us in equal devotion: every curl, petal and sepal, a startling testament of Him, His unshakeable Kingdom around our little planet.
I look up at Light filtering through nearby trees and see another Bouquet closer: its orange blossom flushed with rain. These trees were always here, now they are no longer just trees,
they are Messengers from the Creator: His voice in startling tones I never really thought were specific convo with me, in this here tiny moment no one else might even notice. Vihan, my daughter grins and says, “Yeah Ma, you’d catch this! Now pl Blog post it? “
The picture we managed here, barely captures what really was, pulsing with His 7D Presence! I needed to share it with you this eve of November: a Bouquet for you from the King.
May you too be startled by wild insane Events in corners just waiting for you to notice Him-
notice His Messages of Unblinking Love, no matter the forecast. Nothing mortal compares with His presence- NOTHING.
Refresh my soul, let the doors of you, open to Peace. Let everything within breathe Grace. May our mind lean on Him whose mercies never fail, they are new every morning. Great is His faithfulness. Greater than all my bounteous lack. His power in my weakness, oh the fact of that. Not I but Christ in me, not the dark, but the Light in me. ReNew every morning soul, stay blest.
A trick of Light maybe but Kitsy’s shoes left to sunbathe ‘3 hours’ in balcony after she went out in relaxed Lockdown hours..? Is like lit up.
It was still early dusk yesterday – tough day!- when I took this photograph and it speaks to me now as Jeff and I wake to a quiet dawn morning drink and time alone with God. ‘Your Word is a Lamp to my feet, a Light to my path…’
I came here with questions He did not answer, but a load lifts as a Smile descends from His Presence into my restless heart. ‘It is well, it is well with my soul. When Peace like a River, attends my way…’
I just need say, thankyou. Thankyou Lord.
WhatsApp’s a great getaway/ de- stresser between family, esp on days when the typed word feels easier. Don’t be fooled by all the Hearts exchanged between Kit and I 😅
If you’re seeing Ads in this space, my apologies. I thank WordPress for the Joy of Blogging no matter the hazards of not opting for Premium Sites that eliminate Ads. Stay blest. Stay precious.
This one is for the loved ones and those who have succumbed, or might, to Covid & other reasons humans and nations do not always thrive,
& too, for those of us who die a thousand deaths in lives that could be be lived out strong,
those for whom Love loses Its Light with eye dulled for fears they needn’t weep: we are freer than we imagine;
for all of us: Tomorrow is that gift we cannot see yet: we do not walk Its fields of harvest, we do not yet inhale Its aroma of rest, we do not hold It in our fingers, but we believe It too will arrive like yesterday,
we know in the hours before dawn that when we peer thru’ grey satin whispers of sunrise, we will walk into Its rays of hope,
Some said it well... ‘weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning‘; so walk, walk on. Brave Heart, walk on, till tomorrow comes…
The bio-dome hosted hundreds of butterfly …our 18 year old blind Joh was at peace, no aggression. We weren’t worrying about the things he couldn’t see, just grateful that his beautiful smile was back in this quiet place lush with flora. Post seizure meds’ aggression had reared its ugly head the past months, holding our gentle perfect son hostage.
Today life is getting better: piecing back together under a Force that held us. Negativity fades like long shadows of dusk as I look at Rochelle’s Prompt and the gentle Reminder that we are all still being held together …