How does fall manage to look so pretty
Even when the rain permeates the day?
I just noticed it this morning—
All the brilliant colors in the sunlight
Take on a sort of royal austerity
When gray sky reigns in the atmosphere.
No matter how drab the day feels
The colors remind me that time keeps passing.
The dreariness will give way
To another sunny day.
The leaves will keep falling until
The brown gets trampled underfoot
As bare trees raise their limbs
Looking for the snow to clothe them again.
Knowing fall is just another
Season of transition,
I can settle in for the ride ahead,
Enjoy the scenery alongside,
Revel in the rain even…
Because I appreciate all the facets of fall,
Not just the bright and shiny sides.

Fingers of the morning sun pierce the clouds,
Like Your hand extended over the landscape,
Hovering above us all as sweet reminder of
Your goodness, Lord…
Your mercy, Lord…
Your continual grace that allows us to
Begin each new day with Your breath of life.
The deeply blue-gray clouds outlined
With golden filaments of light
Starkly contrasts pale blue-white sky
Like the wounded world against the healing heavens…
All held together in Your palm.

I thought it was hard before…
When I waited through weeks and months
Of uncertainty and clouded vision,
But this really has turned into an ordeal.
I find I have to balance between
Stagnation, contentment, and impatience.
It’s difficult to understand how…
To be content where I am without settling,
To trust that God can be, and is, using me here,
Yet make some effort to move forward
Because I don’t believe I am to stay “here.”
It’s a fine line to have to walk…
Not stagnant nor striving, only steady.
I just don’t think I’m quite “there” yet,
So, sighing, I sit still and keep waiting,
Keep trying to learn whatever lesson
I’m supposed to be learning at this desk,
Keep hoping for some miracle to happen…
Soon? Maybe? Or not.
Is it any wonder I can’t figure things out?

My fingers meander over the keyboard leisurely
While my thoughts follow along…
Sometimes slowly…
Sometimes tripping over each other…
It doesn’t matter how, only that they do.
Meanwhile, my fingers keep wandering,
Wondering what will come next.
There are moments when it seems
These things just write themselves.
At other times, every word is a struggle.
Nevertheless, I write. I must write.

Occasionally it feels like
Compulsion rather than inspiration,
And I wonder why I bother doing it,
But the satisfaction in the end result
Is like a carrot on a stick,
Or a fresh baked cookie just out of the oven
Smelling sooooo… wonderful,
I can hardly wait to finish a piece
To get that taste of accomplishment.

On the other hand,
The pleasure in the process keeps me
Putting more words down on paper—
Well, at least figuratively anyway.
I like the gentle rhythm of speaking,
Because even when I say nothing out loud,
The words sound in my head
Like a speech or a song, or even…
(And here I laugh behind my hand)
…A poem!

Next project on my list:
Write a new poem,
And another,
And another…
Because I can’t “not write.”
Folding my hands and thoughts into stillness
Is very difficult for me.
So I’m content to let my fingers
Tap out random thoughts and words
For now.
Eventually they will shape themselves
Into some palatable form.
In the meantime,
I type on.

To dream a dream, to hear You speak,
To trust Your Holy Spirit in my life;
To shape, remake; to burn, to break,
While Your word cleanses me with holy fire…
Conflict and doubt, within, without
Have wrecked my heart and left me waiting still.
I can but stand here in Your hand,
Trusting You to move me where you will.

On this one, I discovered I could invert the background colors (and the conjunctions/prepositions) and it gave it a whole new look, but I can’t decided if I like the brown one or the blue one better. I kind of like them both about equally, really, so I thought I’d put both of them out here.

According to the words of Christ, in letters printed red,
We cannot call Him, “Lord,” unless we do what He has said.
So heed His warning, build on rock, and stand strong in the flood,
Or choose your own way and you’ll find you’ve built on sand instead.

If we will take the narrow road and follow God’s commands,
He guarantees eternity for those who take a stand.
Crowds of people think that God’s great mercy will prevail,
But Jesus paid the price that perfect goodness still demands.

For many who claim Jesus’ name, the words are meaningless.
When what “seems” right depends on us, no wonder we’re a mess.
Remember now, while there’s still time, to truly make Him Lord,
His heart of love keeps calling us to seek His holiness.

It’s trusting in His sacrifice that helps us find His light,
Though many times, we lose our way or stumble in the night.
This road that we must travel leaves us dusty, tired, and worn,
But grace still leads us home when we resolve to do what’s right.

(Luke 6:46-49)

I’ve been a quiet angry mass
Of seething feelings, shattered glass,
And though I seemed a peaceful soul
Within me was a great big hole
Where at some point in my dismay,
I tried to hide myself away.

But it has been a brutal bout—
A battle huge within, without.
For though I tried to shield my heart,
I could not hide from every dart.
The feelings grew; the glass cut deep;
(This bleeding mess of mine can’t keep.)

I long for grace to truly heal,
Let go of bitter hurt I feel.
My Father longs to give me rest,
But I’ve held tight within my chest.
Yet come what may I trust Him still,
Despite the cold, resentful chill.

Soon, I will choose to push away,
My  “righteous” anger gone astray.
I’m tired of holding anguish in;
Careworn with what my life has been.
Somehow, Holy Spirit, take
The painful feelings and heartache.

Please fill me with forgiveness, Lord,
For self and others; speak Your Word.
Light the darkest part of me
With Your sweet love so I can see.
Give me hope and make me new.
Unite my heart to worship You.