Remnants

Old boards, old doors, old gates and walls

I wonder what lies dormant in your past

To what sights and sounds did you bear witness

What pain and suffering, what dance and song

Whose prayers for deliverance did you hear

What songs of praise or lament

And now I pass by wondering

Where are the souls who lived within

Who mourned their passing

And who left these crumbling walls

To make lives and journeys new

Who laid down with wounds to great to bear

And I walk by in silence

Are there lessons to be learned

Are their gaping wounds waiting for forgiveness 

Longing for a healing

Crying out for mercy and for grace

Whispered prayers clinging to these sad walls

Is there a chance we can redeem the past

Is there hope that can be pulled

From these old boards and doors

Or are we fated to repeat the sins

Of our fathers, who walked away

Never looking back

Summer Verse

Songs of the Birds

The tiny bodies of Carolina wrens
Tremble as mighty song pours forth
Gaudy cardinal has the repertoire
Of a showy operatic tenor
Woodpeckers of various color and size
Carry on a staccato beat of a drum line
Finches and sparrows chatter
Not unlike a classroom of fifth graders
Blue jays scream and scold
Starlings grumble and jeer
Robins cherrio with heads tipped
toward the earth and worms
And my favorite
The soulful call of the mourning dove
Always falls into my heart and soul


Raining...but not raining

I'm walking
It's cloudy but not raining
I hear the sound like rain falling
It's the drops of rain
Held overnight by leaves
On the forest trees
Freed by a gentle morning breeze
To fall further
On to the ground
Raining but not raining


Magnolia Leaves

Magnolia leaves cascade toward the ground
Loosened from limbs by an evening breeze
Their passage through the recalcitrant leaves
Creates music
Rivaling the tune from the wind chime
Hanging on the lowest branch

The Dan River

Flowing peacefully

Past abandoned fabric mills

Over dams and under bridges

Geese with goslings

Turtles and cormorants on the rocks

Dead trees washed up on the banks

The people are all gone

The slaves that built the giant factories

The owners who lived in Victorian mansions

We stroll thru time

Down walking paths along the Dan

And wonder why some things never change

Spring

In a world where

news is often annoying

and sad and frightening

Spring comes

and it's beauty

takes my breath

and makes me smile

And I am comforted

by the faithfulness

of seasons

the colors of the earth

The knowing of

God's love and care

Fear and hatred

drain the world of

beauty and peace

While my heart

is touched and grieved

by all that bile

I step outside

and breathe and breathe

and draw into my soul

the peace of God and

Pray his hand upon us

and His Kingdom come

to earth

Reparations

I wonder if that Revelations crowd

Standing in front of the throne

Those surviving the great ordeal

Those whose tears will be wiped away

And whose sorrow shall be over

I wonder if those are the people of color

From around our earth

Whose lives have been only suffering

Pain and heartache

Trials and tribulations

I wonder if they're the ones

The Father will gather to his bosom

If they're the ones who will receive

The robes, the crowns and the mansions

It would only be fair. 

This past Sunday the New Testament reading was from Revelations 7:9-17. As the lector was reading these verses, I was overwhelmed with the vision of people of color from all around the world standing in front of the heavenly Father, and he was promising them that the great injustices done to them over the centuries were over, and all the promised rewards were now theirs. Maybe it's just my way of making myself feel better...I don't know. 

 

Evening Sun

In my quiet space the 

sun no longer

sweeps into my morning

with its gaudy brilliance

Instead the evening

sun spreads long shadows

on my comforter

sliding through the slats

of opened blinds

Its shadows now

and evening and darkness

that call to me

The moon and lights of

night have taken on the

task of lighting up my soul

And with their lesser light

is invitation to enter

shadowlands and darkness

to explore the treasures there

Some buried deep

in childhood fears

and some entangled

in my dreams at night

All bidding me to

come

sit

breathe

rest

My candle and the

tiny lights around my window

light the way 

Three Poems of Advent

Waiting for Christmas

Alone in the house
Quiet folds aroundme
Leaves silently flutter
Past the window
My hands hold close
My Christmas mug
The coffee's turning cold
I sit longer
Savoring the stillness

12/13/15



 Waiting

In silence
my heart is
free to wander
pathways otherwise
obscured by noise

My soul
opens to the
quiet and is
nourished and
watered by the
depth of stillness

How fitting that
this truth should
nudge its way
into my being
at this time of waiting

Just before
the burst of
angel song
and glorious loud
proclaiming of
the Son.

12/13/15



Silence

I hadn't realized
How noisy my life had become
Traveling, visiting
Living in a house with others

Now as I sit in silence
In an empty house
My soul opens
and my heart breathes

I have missed
the quietness and peace of solitude
But I've been welcomed
To a different world

Still, I shall work
To find these quiet spaces
Where the stillness speaks
and silence gives embrace.

12/14/15