Monday, April 13, 2015

Open Vowels

I look for A...
    in the Amber glow of a coy sunset
    Altruism hiding behind a grey shadow of pride
I look for E...
    in the Everyday moments
    Easy-listening for a still, small voice
I look for I...
    in the waning Innocence of my little girl
    Inches above me, teetering a jaded tightrope
I look for O...
    in the Opulence of others
    Only to find it hovering in a hal-O above simplicity
I look for U...
    in the Understanding uninhibited me
    Unbound, untidy, untethered
Help me to look for the Y...
in You so much more than sometimes.

"You'll welcome us with open arms, when we run for cover to you...
You are famous for decking us out in delight." 
Psalm 5:11-12 (msg)

"While we have been pursuing God,
He has been rushing toward us with reckless love,
arms flung wide to hug us home." 
Ken Gire

Monday, March 30, 2015

The Gallery

When He first touched the brush to my canvas,
He pursed His lips in a smile
Tickling me with vivid greens
playful yellows, baby skin pinks,
lily whites and river blues.
He scribbled my name
"Water Lily Pond"
and I knew who I was,
a love note to the Painter of my painter.
Then they brought me here.
This gallery
so much colder than His backyard.
Some stop to look and smile.
A mother and daughter even paused to marvel,
silently taking me in inch by inch.
I could feel the sunset again.
Many walk by, not noticing.
Some saunter and sniff a smug indifference.
One boy stared at his phone while his Mother asked
"When's lunch?"
I wish I could show them what the Master meant.
He wants them to imagine.
To fill in the blanks with their eyes and minds.
He left room for them in the painting.
To smell the lilies.
To hear the water flowing.
To feel the sunset on their faces,
the wind that swirled around His brushes that day.
He's not photographer. He's a painter.
He's not a dictator. He wants them
to discover.
Then came the critics.
Loud and multiplying. Echoing off these stark walls.
"What a mess. I'm not impressed."
"Who needs impressions when you could have clarity?"
"Too bold. It should be more subtle."
"Too subtle. It should be more bold."
"Too loud. Too soft. Too childish."
"I don't get it."
Their voices trying to peel the paint.
Squinting, wincing, rolling eyes.
I heard them, and it hurt.
But it doesn't take me off this wall.
It doesn't take that satisfied sigh away
when He put up His brushes for the day,
grinning to utter one word,

"Never lose an opportunity of seeing anything that is beautiful; for beauty is God’s handwriting — a wayside sacrament. Welcome it in every fair face, in every fair sky, in every fair flower, and thank God for it as a cup of blessing."
~Ralph Waldo Emerson

Psalm 139:13
Oh yes, you shaped me first inside, then out; you formed me in my mother’s womb. I thank you, High God—you’re breathtaking! Body and soul, I am marvelously made! I worship in adoration—what a creation! You know me inside and out, you know every bone in my body; You know exactly how I was made, bit by bit, how I was sculpted from nothing into something. Like an open book, you watched me grow from conception to birth; all the stages of my life were spread out before you, The days of my life all prepared before I’d even lived one day.

"I write from my soul. This is the reason that critics don't hurt me, because it is me. If it was not me, if I was pretending to be someone else, then this could unbalance my world, but I know who I am."

Tuesday, February 03, 2015

Falling Up

ZigZag questions, seasick
Yoga Zen fallen flat
Xmas once a year
This wrinkle in time
This heroic villain, down to get up
Undermining the minds in the mines
with Trapeze daydreams
To stick to the sky like a Starfish
Regeneration in a riddle
The quiver of a promise
Order nailed down deep in the chaos
The murmurs of a muddy hope
A lamp for the lost
A kayak skimming surfaces
A jet that zooms above it all
Or just an inch above ground
To howl or hush here
This quicksand gravity of change
To build a fence and hide, outside
Until my echo and I become extinct
A piece of driftwood tossed aside
A dancer asked to crawl off into the wings
Losing her balance 
In this dizzying About-face
This Z to A
moment of
falling up.
Perhaps a better stage awaits.

"A lot of people resist transition and therefore never allow themselves to enjoy who they are. Embrace the change, no matter what it is; once you do, you can learn about the new world you're in and take advantage of it."Nikki Giovanni

"Be strong and courageous. Do not be frightened, and do not be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.” Joshua 1:9 (msg)

Tuesday, January 13, 2015

So Close

memories perch
in the palm of my hand
a snowflake on mittens
barbie sunglasses looming above
plastic bodies preaching ideals
that nightmare of a spider
I woke up; it creeped up and bit my thumb
dandelion fluff ashes of wishes
a rebel crayon looking for front lines to cross
a glass shard reflecting mom's first cuss word
a bumble bee by the slide, "just stand still", sting, teachers lie
wax worm tickling before dad's hooks pierced
communion cup, upturned, suctioned, tap-dancing a pew
milk dud trios in tiny boxes under a Lucy mask
a deflated balloon after a party I wasn't invited to
a golf ball when dad couldn't teach me to swing anymore
popcorn kernels on the stove, mom's oil, timing
erasers in raised hands, rolling eyes, prank calls
a key to the dorm room, old carpet, a kiss under a blossom tree
stamps on letters from Frankfort, palm to chest to quiet the pounding
a diamond ring, a question
an eggshell, arguments, payments
mini-rubber ducky, tiny palms around our pinkies, bath time
a red pen cap, stories in rows of desks and eyes
a grape and a walnut, a temple of why
a raindrop on a run, or a teardrop, the same
a paper clip removed, a manuscript tossed to heaven
empty, cupped, two creases
You with scars in yours
and me the line below
so close

"See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands..." Isaiah 49:16

“To see a world in a grain of sand
And heaven in a wild flower
Hold infinity in the palms of your hand
And eternity in an hour.”
William Blake

Friday, December 12, 2014

More Than Meets the I

a star could sizzle like kettle kernels
a howl could taste like blood and the chase
a circle could waft like pumpkin pie and relatives round tables
a baby's cry splashes pink on the walls and cheeks
white could move in slow motion, a sheer blown by a window breeze
a whisper could tango like incense, curling seductively to the eardrum
mischief could smell like a black rubber mask and a grin
turquoise could tickle your toes with a peacock feather
a new idea could be that first breath above the surface
after diving deep and catching a glimpse
of an underwater Mermaid kingdom
a stranger could be a walking life lesson
listen, look, taste, inhale, and see
more than meets the I

"We are lonesome animals. We spend all of our life trying to be less lonesome. One of our ancient methods is to tell a story begging the listener to say-and to feel- ‘Yes, that is the way it is, or at least that is the way I feel it.’ You’re not as alone as you thought."
—John Steinbeck

"With many stories like these, he presented his message to them, fitting the stories to their experience and maturity. He was never without a story when he spoke. When he was alone with his disciples, he went over everything, sorting out the tangles, untying the knots."
Mark 4:33 (MSG)

Thursday, November 06, 2014

A Date with Mr. Idiom

smirky reptilian pickup line
"Penny for your thoughts?"
a rebuttal in his native tongue
"Let's not beat around the bush.
You're barking up the wrong tree, buddy."
Monocle falls at the drop of a hat
"My dear, why not give me the benefit of the doubt?
Don't judge a book by it's cover.
Every cloud has a silver lining."
Nails on a chalkboard.
I turn on a dime so we can see eye to eye.
"To make a long story short
and kill two birds with one stone,
Time with me would cost you an arm an a leg.
I'll burn the midnight oil to avoid you like the plague.
You're a wolf in sheep's clothing.
There's a method to my madness.
I wore plaid pants to say "I do" to Mr. Unorthodox
And he carries a loaded hot glue gun
that helps me piece together something viscid
and burgeoning
and pulchritudinous
So go take the bull by the horns
Don't give up your day job.
Go cut corners with someone else.
Here's a taste of your own medicine.
Curiosity resurrected this cat."

"Artists of all disciplines must be willing to go into the dark, let go control, be surprised." - Madeleine L' Engle

"It’s true that moral guidance and counsel need to be given,
but how you say it and to whom you say it are as important as what you say."
1 Timothy 1:8 MSG

Tuesday, October 07, 2014

Rhythm in Blues

My blue flits about-playful, frantic
then rests on the trampoline of a daisy's sway
masquerading drab moth exterior, hiding hues
My blue was born under a wide open Texas sky
in his Ocean eyes in two blue lines on a white stick
Blue relishes attention midday
relinquishes the spotlight to rosy morning and amber dusk
sandwiched in the grand entrance and the grand finale
the steady wallpaper of a lazy afternoon
My blue admonishes her bluejays,
"Stop the bullying and just be beautiful!"
She speaks a bold silence
the blueberry on the vine
waiting to gush and delight
the curl of the wave
waiting to crash into white
the cotton candy bagged
waiting to sticky your fingers
My blue lacks the caution of yellow
rolls her eyes at the ego of red
charmed by her impish purple cousin
My blue hides in a box of clouds
where shapes are freed to flirt with imagination
She sings a song of peaceful longing
a familiar melody that curves up the mouth with hope
She hangs out with teal when she's up for a good dare
vacations with green on tropical isles
My blue is not sad
Her sighs are like stretches
She's just flexing her wings.

"Color is the place where our brain and the universe meet." Paul Klee

"The trial exposed their true colors: They were incredibly happy, though desperately poor. The pressure triggered something totally unexpected: an outpouring of pure and generous gifts." 
2 Corinthians 8:2-3

"When you're feeling a little broken, that's just a chance for your inner beauty to peek through."
(-A whisper from God when this butterfly landed on my finger)

Thursday, September 25, 2014

Life of the Party

Confetti days floor
forgotten delight, awaiting the broom

Wallflower days hide in a corner
clutching a cake-crumbed paper plate

Donkey days rear end
butt of the joke without a tail

PiƱata days swing high
sticking around to take a beating
then spill my guts
greedy grabbing for gossip
hoard, unwrap, savor

Balloon days float then deflate slowly
rise and fall,
tied down by puppet string

Streamer days twist and hang
Disposable, wrinkled, easily torn

Wrapping paper days rip open
crumpled then throw away

Oh to be that trick candle again
surprise delight
the child in all of us
as we gasp fully
exhale passionately
this life of breaths

Re-light this spark within.

“I took a deep breath and listened to the old brag of my heart. I am, I am, I am.” 
― Sylvia PlathThe Bell Jar

"Then the Lord God formed a man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living being." Genesis 2:7

Thursday, September 18, 2014


I skipped through the ABC's today
and this is what I found
Ageless adventure abracadabra
Blueberry blossoms bold unbound
Curious clear-headed creative
Delicate daring dame
Exploring enchanted exploits
Faithful fluency unframed
Genuine giddy glow again
Hopeful happy hopping here
Inspired to invent imagine
Joyful jokes jests un-jeered
Kindness Keepsakes Kisses
Motherhood minus minding the mess
Noble natural nurturing
Onward original openness
Playful pin-striped passion
Queen's quest for quaint quote quips
Rapturous radiant renewal
Succulent smiles set strawberry sips
Trusting truth to tender touches
Uplift understand unite
Vim Vigor Vitality
Wholehearted wonder clouds of white
XOXO X marks the spot
Yes yearning Your yesterday
Zany ZigZag Zealot
the ABC's of reTURNing to play.

"If you want creative workers, give them enough time to play." 
~John Cleese

"Fear pushes us around like Nelson bullies Bart Simpson and Milhouse, and it holds a Keep Out sign over the adventure, wonder and even simple every day confidence God has called us to experience... If you keep handing the bully your lunch money, don't act surprised when he keeps taking it."
Steven Furtick, Crash the Chatterbox

"There is no fear in love [dread does not exits], but full-grown (complete, perfect) love turns fear out of doors and expels every trace of terror." 1 John 4:18 (AMP)

Wednesday, September 17, 2014


a Miserly letter at Most
Me, My, Mine
Multiple Mountains to March
Mmm Makes lips Meet
savoring Mangos in the Mouth
Manna from our Maker
Mindless Misapprehension
Marring the marks of Your Magnificence
with Malarky Manipulations
from Marquee Matinees
to Midnight Masquerades
the Mania of the Mask
Majority Maintains
Motivation Minimized
Mission Maimed
Mad, Melancholy,
May-daying for More
to Make Melodic Music
to Melt into Mercy
a Meal, a Manual, a Memory
or Maybe
a Maze of Marigolds Marking the Map
Moving Me back
From Mishap to Meaning
From Mistake to Mistaken
Measuring Your Megalithic Majesty
against Measly, Miniature, Mousy me.

"Ancient Chinese artists always included a deliberate flaw in their work:
 human creation is never perfect." 
Madeleine L'Engle

"I take limitations in stride, with good cheer, 
these limitations that cut me down to size-
the weaker I get, the stronger I become."
2 Corinthians 12:10 (Msg)

Monday, September 15, 2014


Defying this black and white-wigged judge of a world
I skip across the surface a defiant and playful gray
I timber giants, flying from a shepherd boy's sling
Perch at the bottom of the river, going with the flow,
When heavy, I stub toes or cornerstone skyscrapers
When light, I clink upstairs windows of pretty girls
Humanity stomped me to rubble with feet and machines
From mountains, to gravel, to castles again
Broken pieces holding hands until citadels tower
On sticks, I slaughter in battle
On grass, I provide the path to peace
Sticks and I can break your bones and words on me will kill you
Live wildly that solid dash between the dates
So I can be your monument

“When a stone is dropped into a pond, 
the water continues quivering 
even after the stone has sunk to the bottom.” 
― Arthur GoldenMemoirs of a Geisha
“Watch closely. I’m laying a foundation...
    a solid granite foundation, squared and true.
And this is the meaning of the stone:
    a trusting life won’t topple."

Isaiah 28:16 (MSG)

Wednesday, September 10, 2014

She, Tree, Me

she buds her fashion in shy spring
feather boa chlorophyll in showy summer
flirty fall strip tease in a whistling breeze
then shivers naked, cracking in weary winter
waiting to be born again
she cries when spring returns
such a sap

"There is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity under the heavens:
a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,
a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance."
Ecclesiastes 3:1-4 (MSG)

“Strong women need not declare they can carry all the burdens in life.
They just quietly do it and survive with a smile.”
Princess Maleiha Bajunaid Candao

Tuesday, August 12, 2014

The Caged Bird's Wings

I remember the little bird trembling back when
"All the World's a Cage"
countless cold bars of steal fears
brother words locking the cage with a clink
I didn't even know I had wings

Then I picked the lock with my silent beak
and found "All the World's a Stage"
trying on characters like elaborate costumes
to find little pieces of me, little glimpses of tethered flight,
feathers stretching, wings flexing

Then you opened the cage for good when I found
"All the World's a Page"
a story to write, a song to sing
of cages, stages, pages, and things
And this is when I found my wings.

"He was like an eagle hovering over its nest, overshadowing its young, Then spreading its wings, lifting them into the air, teaching them to fly." Deuteronomy 32:11 (msg)

"Sometimes you fell caged when really you are only cupped. Take the difficult and thrum thanks again and again. This is how a sparrow flies." Ann Voskamp

Wednesday, July 16, 2014

Revoke the Curse

American women bit into the apple of a lie
This Eat, Pray, Love, Crap that echoes at Twilight
and turns us Fifty Shades of Green with Envy
This fantasy that princes and vampires and werewolves
should battle for our precious hands
and worship the common pavement we walk on
That every look, kiss, and touch from faithful husbands
only pales in comparison to those Nicholas Sparks that turn into fireworks
Dreaming of a world scribbled in crayon
and missing the technicolor love right above the page
Meanwhile, our husbands secretly slay dragons
by showing up to work each day
Valiant rescues hidden in taking out the trash
Romantic soliloquies cloaked in whispers to our children
Passionate embraces shrouded in a look across the room
Maybe the riding mower is the most noble steed of all
We have not lost our heroes
They have lost our vain, fickle attention
the clock is striking midnight
It's time
Jesus was true love's kiss
let us wake from this sleep-like death
and take our daughters with us into the light
embracing the real picture of our happily ever after
who may not always stop to ask for directions
but will take us to places closer and better
than anything wished upon a distant star.

"Love never gives up.
Love cares more for others than for self.
Love doesn’t want what it doesn’t have.
Love doesn’t strut,
Doesn’t have a swelled head,
Doesn’t force itself on others,
Isn’t always “me first,”
Doesn’t fly off the handle,
Doesn’t keep score of the sins of others,
Doesn’t revel when others grovel,
Takes pleasure in the flowering of truth,
Puts up with anything,
Trusts God always,
Always looks for the best,
Never looks back,
But keeps going to the end.
Love never dies."
1 Corinthians 13:4-8 (msg)

“I no longer believed in the idea of soul mates, or love at first sight. But I was beginning to believe that a very few times in your life, if you were lucky, you might meet someone who was exactly right for you. Not because he was perfect, or because you were, but because your combined flaws were arranged in a way that allowed two separate beings to hinge together.” ―Lisa Kleypas

"Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident. Your mother and I had it, we had roots that grew towards each other underground, and when all the pretty blossom had fallen from our branches, we found that we were one tree and not two."Henry David Thoreau

Thursday, June 12, 2014

Man's Best...

lethal happiness in that whip of that tail
wondering what adventure awaits that first step out of bed
play bow growls that wrestle holes in Daddy's T-shirt
the top of his nose, my favorite fuzzy spot to kiss
those heavy paws that beg, scrape, and crush bare feet
so he can get some attention and a scratch behind the ears
deer-like prances in deep snow
summer shakes fresh out of the river after a run
those eyes
that panting smile that somehow begs us to match it
a snore that soothes like river waves lap the shore
those twitchy dreams of chasing squirrels or Golden girls
That faithful greeting at the door
May we hear his daily lessons
and love like Samson loves us
a reminder from man's best friend
that simply loving is man at our best.

Jesus said, “‘Love the Lord your God with all your passion and prayer and intelligence.’ This is the most important, the first on any list. But there is a second to set alongside it: ‘Love others as well as you love yourself.’ These two commands are pegs; everything in God’s Law and the Prophets hangs from them.” Matthew 22:37 

"Man is a dog's idea of what God should be." ~Holbrook Jackson

Monday, May 19, 2014

Runrise in the Rain

Whoo whoo
deep breath
silent stretch
a muddy week
pat pat
pat pat
whoo whoo
rhythm feet
rocking brain back to sleep
rest in motion
click, slam
neighbor screen door
car zooms past
whoosh breeze relief
trees rustle
sharing their breezes with me
tweet tweet
pat pat

"My teaching, let it fall like a gentle rain, my words arrive like morning dew, Like a sprinkling rain on new grass, like spring showers on the garden— respond to the greatness of our God! The Rock: His works are perfect, and the way he works is fair and just; A God you can depend upon, no exceptions, a straight-arrow God. His messed-up, mixed-up children, his non-children, throw mud at him but none of it sticks." Deuteronomy 32:1-5 (msg)

“Sunshine is delicious, rain is refreshing, wind braces us up, snow is exhilarating; there is really no such thing as bad weather, only different kinds of good weather.”

Sunday, April 20, 2014

Overview Effect

Forty years ago in this season of forty days
Three men took that first trip 
to explore the glowing ball in the sky.
Three very different men 
with the same doubts, courage, and curiosity.
They achieved their mission, 
but came back with a revelation 
no one at NASA had predicted.
Not with photos of the moon, 
but when they turned back toward earth, 
toward this beautiful blue marble we call home.
Science and faith collided, 
both men and boys in an instant. 
Caught up in the magic and beauty of this planet 
floating in an infinite expanse 
while knowing the billions of scientific factors 
ordering it’s systems 
and holding the very breath of their loved ones so far away.  
So small in this vast echo of silent space.
the “overview effect.”
To know 
this is the only planet that has drinkable, life sustaining water 
paired with this brilliant painting before them of blue and turquoise.
To understand 
the delicate balance of temperatures, climates and oxygen levels 
paled in comparison to seeing this faint, fragile line 
hugging the earth like a thin snow globe glass that could shatter to pieces.
There’s a difference between a mind clouded 
with the science of what makes a lightning storm 
and the clarity of a view above the clouds themselves.
These men came home with a peace dressed in a mystery.
New truths, 
new doubts, 
bonding like the brothers they had become.
New answers brought more questions.
They began their descent, 
noting the boundaries that scarred this shared land of ours.
Continents, countries, cities, even families 
divided by walls of brick and opinions.
But whatever language we speak, 
whatever landscape we say good morning to, 
whatever views we behold with our eyes 
or hold onto in our minds, 
we all look up to share 
the same sun, moon, and stars.

 We push each other away. 
We find each other. 
We laugh, We grieve. We strive. 
We believe. We doubt.

In the grit and gravel of this day to day world, 
We wander these roads leading somewhere, 
how easily  we lose site 
of the overview effect.
why this planet? 
Why this tiny blue marble in a vast array of planets 
and galaxies in the universe? 
You are giving us space, 
giving us all this room, to doubt. 
Calling us to push away for a few moments 
to rediscover what we’re all really chasing.

Then he said to Thomas, “Put your finger here, and see my hands; and put out your hand, and place it in my side. Do not disbelieve, but believe.” John 20:27 

"It is unexpected, but extraordinarily convincing, that the one absolutely unequivocal statement, in the whole Gospel, of the Divinity of Jesus should come from Doubting Thomas. It is the only place where the word 'God' is used of him without qualification of any kind, and in the most unambiguous form of words. And this must be said, not ecstatically, or with a cry of astonishment, but with flat conviction, as of one acknowledging irrefragable evidence: '2 + 2 = 4', 'That is the sun in the sky,' 'You are my Lord and my God.'"  Dorothy Sayers