Tag: light

The Boy With No Name

Happened in a few minutes, this one’s script, but the Time lapse + putting together, ah’m!

For actual kids and those with heart for the Unseen. Watch time – 9 mins., and special sound delivery 👉🏼 “Appey- man*” (line loan, Johann😀)

*fruit seller ‘Apple’

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Woman

Not just raised as suns:

if you were sat in a chair in a room with closed door, your light spilt out Thresholds.

You did school, college & scrabble: got triple scores & 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 love and dances and chances

to seek treasure in Pain; uh games of gain,

of songs in Gethsemane 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 are first born

Natives of The Light. of Lights.

Lest you forget.

***

Innerdialects.

” 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.

Gethsemane (/ɡɛθˈsɛməni/)[1] is a garden at the foot of the Mount of Olives in Jerusalem where, according to the four Gospels of the New TestamentJesus underwent the agony in the garden and was arrested the night before his crucifixion. It is a place of great resonance in Christianity. There are several small olive groves in church property, all adjacent to each other and identified with biblical Gethsemane.

Permit to park

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.

Burst of Summer.
the Light never fails
Cubbon Park rocks and few walkers. Notice boy hunched over on Centre rock,in front of boy with red sneakers? I should’ve asked him how he was, but unused to that kind of thing, we didn’t. What if he needed help? What if he was praying someone would help….?

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.

For FMF Writers

Here Time stands still…

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

Friday five minute writers

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…

He finds God in pages of Scripture & cups of coffee

Michael, Writer of Haikus he collects from moments between days, sent in this Beauty that graphically describes human query. “What’s your Title ?” I asked.

He replied,”Hope in our lament’? Though, ‘A Psalm of Lament‘* , has more advantage in simplicity…”

MICHAEL, U.K. loves Christ and Haikus…

Amazed by God’s faithfulness and grace, especially over long-term mental health problems, he finds God in the pages of Scripture and in cups of coffee. Psalm 139 is his favourite place in the Word.

*A PSALM OF LAMENT

In fire and grief
Orphans are made
Oh Lord, Your tears are in their hearts
For You say “…visit orphans and widows in their troubles
And, Lord, You do.

In isolation and despair
Loneliness is made
Oh Lord, You are so near
For You say “…there is a Friend who sticks closer than a brother”
And, Lord, You do.

In chaos and chemicals
Addiction is made
Oh Lord, You liberate
For You say “He has sent Me to proclaim liberty to the captives…”
And, Lord, You do.

In stress and exhaustion
Breakdowns are made
Oh Lord, Your compassion descends
For You say “I will give them rest.”
And, Lord, You do.

In greed and corruption
Injustice is made
Oh Lord, Your Spirit is fierce
For You say “The Lord works righteousness and justice for all who are oppressed.”
And, Lord, You do.

But we grieve for the orphan
With tears that feel unceasing

We grieve for the friendless
With such a cry of emptiness

We grieve for the addicted
With such a raging storm within

We grieve for those burned-out in life
With such a totality of weariness

And we grieve for the oppressed
With such a cry of anguish and bewilderment

With all creation we groan for our deliverance
We see no end to this suffering
Before the New Heaven and New Earth
And we wonder ‘do You even care?’
Oh, Lord, You do.

….

Written by Michael, U.K. “It is beautiful what we can learn (the rocks are what you climb on) but no less painful, though the Spirit alleviates.”


Photo Credit Marija R. Prague.

Thankyou Michael for your verse that wrings in Hope. You’ve startled me into staring at the Energy of God freely accessible to human need.

Outskirts Bangalore.

Wishing you a blessed 2021!

Innerdialects.

From our home to yours this Christmas 2020!

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!

Bouquet from the King

The room gasps: outside our window beneath a hunch of trees, it’s there. In a rush of light & stillness … a Bouquet from the King, in a fuss of forest early evening mist. “For you.” He whispers;

I fling my mind down and lunge to where we get a closer angle: this pic doesn’t do justice to what real-time iris sees in 360 panoramic degrees of an October going to November, in the wake of ..

PiCourtesy Vihan

***

.. of Year 2020 tip toeing on all our nerves. I’m certain 2020 feels bad by now, and we aren’t breathing easy yet, not me. Woke up this morning feeling like I’m on Mt.Everest and scared to look down….

then He sends us a Bouquet among 295+ shades of green tender/ savage noon light.

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.

Photograph : Vihan

***

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.

New every morning

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.

unsplash.

**

A Lamp to my feet…

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…’

These Little Lights of mine, I’m going to let them shine
.

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 😅

P.S.

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.

For you, this April

Inspired by the beautiful LADYSAG77#Momentsofjoy, & every one of you who inspires me to write everyday.

May you be strong, and breathe and need little else but wealth of soul~

be persuaded that you are loved by the Father ~ no matter what.

Thankyou Yomargey, UK
for your Stilling Photography

***

May you, may I never stop, nor stoop to believe we were conceived to just live normally,

for ‘neath our feet are the footsteps of God~how easy it is to believe only what we see;

we may be cut, we may be being grafted: blossoms into a Vineyard too large to know just yet

This day I pray, for strength to hold on~no matter what, to the One that held us this far,

for when things were good, and we soared high, we felt secure in goodness,

now when Shutters dawn, there is still the Light, if we open our blinds ….

this April each day, read those Letters He writes for our days & our nights, writ in His blood~

this day I pray, you and I never forget who we are, & how we are~ of the Beloved..

Walk Tall into Tomorrow

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…

….

I simply must add here, my friend Alastair Duncan’s extraordinary Sunrise.

STILL WALKS.

Sunrise in Carmarthenshire, South Wales’s bird & sheep… a horse towards Troserch/ footbridge/ river wild flowers, footsteps; head towards a kissing gate into the open…
Alastair Duncan
Thankyou for this beauty of a share.

….

@raylarn

Related Post:

A walk in the neighbourhood
Bruce Stambaugh.com

Co-incidence?

Taken by Guide at Banerghatta:

Uncanny: last year we were at this 👆 place like at this👇 photograph, courtesy Rochelle Wisoff- Fields, Friday Fictioneers. Thankyou! I needed a Reminder…

PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll
…..

Coincidence?

2019, early summer.

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 …

….

@innerdialects

Click HERE to read other Fictioneers’ stories.

2030 …

Typo! Though it gets me asking:

what will it be like, a decade down?

This morning early at nearby Lake with fam and a few friends after midnight candles and chatty sleepover,

January felt chilly brrrrr 8 am, it was cloudy sun,

With my sis the eye Doc in cheq scarf, & morning mist

What will the next 365… 366 days hold as we do a leap year?

Will there be paper? Hey do people still write on paper?

… there be trees?

Water…?

..bees for candles? 🙂

brotherhood, togetherness, families, oxygen,

seasons?

What will we be blogging about,

or eating?


Will the animal kingdom be soft toys
and trees be synthetic forests?
Will words fade into softer language ? https://youtu.be/RoACcf2q6jw

Last night we ashed 2019’s ugh habits. There were Promises

We held hands,

..for God so loved the world…
Early this morning our pigeon chick(Tina) now she’s all grown & hatches! Can you see her?

What about Us? Will we be happy, humane, will there be peace… not a decade down but year next….?

Our son Joh, (and I don’t know about the rightness of what his Tee says), though

🌻


happy 2020 she’s almost a day old. I wish you Peace.

Thankyou Soups Bee.