Sometimes it splashes you in the face
brazen and breathtaking
as ice cold water
But how many more moments
slip by unnoticed
(for she rarely raises her voice) . . .
Quit trying to corral the river
to slow it down
or to touch every drop
or to steer it away
from the danger of the waterfall . . .
Born on the fourth day
of God’s great goodness
Your Creator crowned you
to govern the night . . .
In Praise of the Sun
Rays of sunlight beaming down like a gentle fan
set translucent spring leaves ablaze
midges become fairy lights, swirling sparks . . .
You made this earth in Your image, O God
Ground under our feet, solid and still
In the sacred garden, we rose up out of the soil,
and we spend our lives never leaving it . . .
You, God of Life
are the God of Water
Without you we shrivel and die
You built into our design
the craving for you . . .
Feather on the Breath of God
tiny feather, downy white
tucked under the wing
of mother dove
close to her breast
near to her heart
warm and safe
hidden, obscured . . .
I bring my camera to be ready
for that magic moment
when a squirrel, rabbit or deer
will lift its lovely face to me
when a bird or butterfly or dragonfly
will sit still long enough . . .
I can free myself and let the artifice blow away in the wind.
The eyes of my soul can illuminate the black of night . . .
When I am alone
when I let go of my doing
and sink into my being
Sometimes I hear a whisper
of my now and not yet . . .