NEWS FAIL

This is why I cannot watch the evening news. ¬†13 minutes of viewing and this writing is my only way to partly purge how I’m left feeling.

Surely, it is easier to love each other versus perilous expressions of violence and death throughout the globe?

Sighs. Tonight I shall write, finish a painting, and pray love and shalom will shower our world.  Tomorrow I shall not watch the news.

NEWS FAIL

I cannot archive my heart
inside walled off chambers of numb.
Rather, the scraping pain of sorrow
unfurls in a sob of release.

Whilst mourners draft stealth exits
under veils of tears,
the angst-stricken fist shakers
protest blocking the way.

No more innocent eyes or unsullied minds.
Drafted into truth far too soon,
children huddle in trembling knots.

There’s Something About You

There’s something about you.
The way you smile and laugh and fill up rooms with joy.
The way you get mad, shake it off and move on without grudge or judgement.
The way you run to freshly bloomed roses and bury your face in the petals.

There’s something about you.
Furrowed brows turn into crinkled smiles when a child laughs or proudly does a backflip.
Bowed shoulders carrying others’ burdens straighten up strong and free when the wind blows and the birds begin their song.
Eyes wet with tears of grief begin to glitter and shine when hope rises up to remind you that mercy is new every morning.

There’s something about you.
Other shoppers step around products fallen into aisles but you stop to place items out of harm’s way.
In the midst of your own worries and busyness you stop to sit on a bench and chat with the homeless woman who is lost in her tears.

There’s something about you.
Truth is your path.
Hope is your fuel.
Grace is your power.
Laughter is your magnet.

Love is your something.

Never Far

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Never far from Your sight,
no place to hide.
Never lost nor out of reach,
You always find me.

Even when I run,
when words are gone,
when emotion is wrecking
my ability to receive and
be rational,
You always find me.
You wait.
Strong,
present,
forceful,
fierce,
yet with the gentleness of a lamb.
You wait.
My Lion.

Finally, up I look into Your eyes,
and I rise.
Your joy is my joy.
Your strength is my strength.
Your love is my love.

Never far from Your sight,
no reason to hide.

Filled To The Brim

I’m filled up to the brim with word adventures
peeking forth from my soul.
Divine mysteries bubble up and rise
as wise doves gently circling above.

Questions appear in thought forms to be
answered by the stealth knowledge that
is always at the ready.

Ask and you shall receive.

Yet silence is become my voice of late.
The trippy trappy space of unknowingness
that sings Wisdom’s elegant tone
whilst companion words keep their heads
quaintly tucked under rocks of ‘not now’.

So many sounds I could form with these words
cloistered in silent bliss under said rocks.