Countdown

Ten...

glasses raised to toast new starts

to friends who've come and gone

Nine...

smiles shared in trust now earned

through redundant pain released

Eight...

ball reads, "Definitely"

at the question of removing

Seven...

deadly demons hidden deep

from this year past contained

Six...

lonely weeks she can't relive

but won't forget too soon

Five...

fingers laced between her own

lending reassurance gained

Four...

seasons wait in promised change

new and different but the same

Three...

vows to keep before her God

in purity and freedom given

Two...

hearts unite in covenant love

to make their new year

One.

~~~~~~~
Prompt from A Writer's Book of Days: In anticipation of the night.

Driven

I don't have a clue what it means

it's like living in a foreign country

with people I don't know

and signs I can't read

I've driven around this circle

so many times that I've forgotten

which exit I intended to take

or where I'd planned to go

In fact I'm no longer even certain

that the exit's even there

or if I'll ever escape this driving

on the wrong side of the road

I know they're out there cursing

trying to push me back in line

but their words are only nonsense

in my misconceiving ear

Water Color

Hues of grey,

and black and blue

and sepia tainted purples

colored like water

on empty canvas

with evocative presence

as if something below

might somehow escape

and follow through

on symphonies

long ago felt:

a random light

causing shadows

to break in the night

~~~~~~~

From "A Writer's Book of Days": "a random light"

These are the delicacies of a ruined evening...

Her lips were soft,

alluring, inviting

and beckoned

with every word

She tittered on musically

Barbie curves suggesting

her creamy skin might taste

as beautiful as it seemed

Perfectly polished nails

casually combed

through gold-spun tresses

reminiscent of a goddess

She caught his stray glance

as his focus faltered

and made her eyes flash

settling his gaze on mine

~~~~~~~

From "A Writer's Book of Days": "These are the delicacies of a ruined evening."

The Sanctity of Business

Be still and know

of the struggle toward holiness

of the being and doing

of the prayer of eternity

of the work of the faith

of the trembling knowledge

of the over-worked saint

of the remaining in stillness

of the solitary communion

of the wrestling for peace

of the working 'til He comes

in multifarious multitask

~~~~~~~

Prompt from "A Writer's Book of Days": Write about something sacred.

Making Our Fortune

we ate Chinese
as we giggled and teased
clueless to where this would lead

as we both should have known
it didn’t agree
but some things are best forgotten

he pushed his plate back
as he stared and he grinned

I self-consciously brushed it away
the lone noodle stuck to my chin
I knew it was dumb
but he knew we were done
and my rumbling stomach agreed
I’d had more than my fill
now regretfully ill
as he tossed me his cookie
and I finally cracked.
“You’ll find here what you least expect.”
I dropped it in shock as I ran for the door.
I can’t eat Chinese anymore.

~~~~~~~

Prompt: "We ate Chinese." from The Writer's Book of Days

The Prayer of the Magi

One thing I seek:
this star of hope
for tiny miracles
born of light

Flickering
in the darkness
casting out
all shadow of doubt

One thing I seek:
this wisdom of old
a journey to love
as a worthy pursuit

Treacherous
with casualties
littered with tests
unsung in the quest

One thing I seek:
this simplicity of faith
in the tiniest truth
laid in simple honesty

Hidden in despair
in the dead of night
in a barn damp and bleak
for all who seek

~~~~~~~

Prompt:

Read Matthew 2:1-2. Write a prayer of the magi as they (you) search for the Messiah foretold by the stars and prophets.

Immanuel

God with us

in these fleeting moments,

sliding from this one to the next~

unstopping,

like cars on ice;

To live in this moment~

the now that was~

in staggering redundant change.

God with us

in the here and the now

embraced in us

in this moment

before it slides away

To something else

where (S)He holds us still

in divinity dazzling

revealing this sign

the glory born

in this one small moment

God with us

inside our flesh

in this spectacle residing

within this gaze

no longer hidden

by the fear in this moment

which changes our future

into love in the now

God with us

January

When last year January came around
Displaying enchantment in effortless charm
She smiled and flirted, promising more
So I held onto her tightly when offered her arm

She swore she’d be better
More caring and sweet
Than that awful December
Forced into retreat

She vowed to live fully
Open, honest, and true
She promised love happily
To give hope for what’s new

But she’s a cold-hearted liar
And I won’t chase her again
With a heart lost and broken
Forgotten, condemned

The Great Hunter

When I consider your heavens,
the work of your fingers,
the moon and the stars,
which you have set in place,
what is man that you are mindful of him,
the son of man that you care for him?
(Psalm 8:3~4)

~~~~~~~

In the most crucial moments of my life, he's always there. Long before my birth and long after I am finished walking this earth, he will continue to hover over the clouds scanning the earth and seeing beyond the these finite moments in time.

My father first introduced me when I was very young. The great outdoors was my place of worship and even then I was drawn to things above. "You'll always recognize him by the three; notice that together they form the center?" I was barely old enough to understand the significance of this ~ nor even to understand love itself. But that moment began a lifelong love affair.

I was always aware of his presence as I grew older. He spent every night outside my window, not just a hunter, but a guardian of sorts. He chaperoned my first kiss and picked up the pieces of my first broken heart. He sat up all night with me, pleading with friends determined to court death before their time.

He went with me to college, my first time "on my own". He promised me constancy in my changing world. He called me to walk with him after the sun went down, wooing me to relax and enjoy the beauty of the world around me in the midst of the business of papers and exams and maintaining more intense relationships than I'd ever had before.

Even when I ran to the other side of the country, leaving nearly everything I knew behind, he found me. I looked up in one of my saddest moments, lost and alone, thinking I might have lost my faith. Even then, I smiled to see him beaming more brightly than ever at me.

I walked the streets of London hand in hand with the man I loved, feeling the contrasting pain of friendship fading. There, he whispered truths of love, promises of hope, and reminders of the history of his presence.

We spoke many nights while I paced the floor, soothing small cries back to dreams. He, a confidant with guaranteed trust, was someone with whom I could be honest about things I couldn't admit to anyone else.

Like me, Orion is on an eternal quest ~ both of us on this never~ending journey to find that which keeps us alive ~ those things we need to sustain our existence. To reveal that which hides in the darkness of night.

~~~~~~~

from A Writer's Book of Days: "Write about winter constellations."

Drought

I've come to need

this ebb and flow

this ever~changing tide

I'd gotten used

to the relentless drip

and the steadily falling stream

trickling slowly over my skin

and washing everything clean

I've felt the drive

and the desperate rush

of devastating torrential storms

I've captured the draw

of being towed

back under and into the sea

or the whirling twist of inevitable drain

as this pool becomes empty and free

I've sung to the tapping

on these rhythmic panes

from the joy squeezed out of these clouds

But all that's left now

is broken and parched

cracking and itching, it bleeds

dying of thirst in the wake of this dust

and gasping and struggling to breathe

It Falls

Individual

Unique

Delicate

Free

Unending

Floating

Twisting

Magical

Drifting

Descending

Frosted

Opalescent

Glittering

Incandescent

Heart Rending

After the Rain

it rushes through violently

pooling on branches in drains

in the wake of this passion

washed up debris

caught in gutters of rage

silent phrases trickle lonely

in the storm cluttered grates

to drown in the stagnant

rainbows below

grown from greased run-off

from things that once mattered

in this path of destruction

a blue sky belies

a clarity of purpose

the brightness of day hiding this fight

as the warmth of this moment

casts shards in the light

it's the yielded resurgence

in the aftermath of despair

in the breaking open of this bottle

of undrinkable repair

~~~~~~~

“For everything you have missed,

you have gained something else,

and for everything you gain,

you lose something else.”

~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

Weakness

why do we let these moments define us?

to subtly affect how we see ourselves?

as if no one else messes up

and everyone is stronger than we

so if i peel back the layers

and reveal to you mine,

will you show me yours?

they may be vastly different

but see, they're both beautiful

pictures of mercy

images of grace

a doorway to open

forgiveness and love

it's never that easy

inside our minds

where humanity invades,

"but..."

the reality that waits

is the simplicity of this:

that we pick ourselves up,

dust ourselves off,
embrace the gift in our failure,
and allow room to change.

we all make our choices

in moments of need

in stupidity or greed,
but this reflection is not

the depths of our character

or ourselves viewed in truth

this failed commentary

is not who we are

if we've fallen in this

the responsibility is ours

to help one another stand

confident and tall

and hand~in~hand walk
in this unashamed grace

it's not an excuse

it's not who you are

but you name your mistake

as the weakness it is

and don't give it the power

to define who you are.