The beast met

In early light's approach
a beast of beauty stood
towering o'er shattered stalks
a flickering mass of steamy black

his hair falls tossed high
upon a sheet of muscle dark
aloof his dark eyes gleam nobility

His sinewy neck twists
holding his head to the sun
His youth and strength defy
the moving grass beneath him
Son of the wind

Immovable but for the joy of summer
coursing his visible veins
this beautiful beast
whose guiltless lustre
frees the stallion
within me

Rose tinted spectacles

Oh sunset,
show me all your dulcet colours
and your half tone hues,
as you hide yourself,
neath a sheet of dwindling gold.

All day I avoid your stare,
but now as you recline
your visage is veiled
and I eagerly await your parting,
as my eyes creep ever nearer,
seeking colours source
as it ebbs,
and is..
no more.

Mothers Day

Only now so many years have swiftly tailed away,
I lift my head and rest my gaze on scenes of yesterday.
I realize now, the love you spent was not a cruel blow,
but spent in cherishment, and hope that you would see me grow.
To love a little is to lose. To love a lot is hard.
I know I spent so many years, beleiving I was scarred.
But through your love you freely give,
a chance for me to live.
A newer life, self sacrificed, for in Him I am hid,
from all the pain of former years, my life is freed to give.
And now my son, my cherished one,
my child yet to come,
my gorgeous wife and blissful life,
three gifts given your son.
For you it was, taught me the hope,
that only in Christs love,
would I ever find, fulfilling life,
and a Father, Him above.

True artistry

A picture painted in still water
speaks clarity framed by the puddles edge.
But should the wind ruffle it's surface,
this picture is not broken,
it is changed, fragmented.
We see it now with new eyes.
Even the frame may change as it laps upon the shore.
But this is not corruption.
No, rather this is a new image
and with its own beauty,
it is seen in newness.
All variations of God's creation are masterful
and in every change, true artistry.
Do not look at creation and allow yourself chaos and corruption,
rather, look on perfection that in every alteration,
speaks of Him.

A mighty man

A barren plain surrounds,
great warriors abound.
But none brave?
No.
None have strength through faith.

A mighty man steps forth,
the crowds part in answer.
A stone slowly starts its oscillation,
seeking... finding,
the stone goes forth as the spear is raised,
a warrior swings high his arm to strike.
His focus blurs, not fast enough to follow.
Pain... and his spirit fails.
The ground shudders...
silence.
A mighty man steps forth to gain the crown,
a nation roars in affirmation.
A nation shatters upon the rocks.
Together they are the sound and motion of great waters
that break upon the shore of Israel crying...
'David has slain his tens of thousands'.

Freindship

Why. Why, when I had tried so hard,
was my attempt so failed?
A word so quietly spoken.
A meaning softly veiled.
My utterance had been to lift
another’s spirits higher.
The thoughts I had,
the words I spoke,
to this end did conspire.
And yet I thwarted,
now aghast sit still in wonderment.
My meaning so intent on care,
now sullen sits thus spent.
Do I now try to rectify, to show,
that though my words so stumbled,
I chose to be here now.
It was my will, my choice, my joy
to be here for my friend.
Of course I know, I’ll not allow,
for it this way to end.
Of course I know I cannot help,
to try again to speak,
such words of comfort that I can,
to somehow bring you peace.
For Christ has given me new life
and though you may not know it,
my love for you that day I died,
increased.
I hope,
I pray,
I show it?

Rain Rain...

Rain thunders its repetition,

pounding the receiving surface.

A storm encapsulated, breaks on impact,

from one drop, flooding, drenching.