Yesterday morning’s fog
held a tinge of pale pink
A slight relief from
recent grays
There was something
varied in its lifting as well
No intention of completely
disappearing into emerging
sunbeams – only hiding
for a bit – waiting for
an opportunity to once
again share its surprising tint
Patience – let the soft hues
permeate your dreams-
And who knows, your
soul may be soothed by
an appearance of peaceful
pink in tomorrow’s sunrise-
If you remember to look
Tag: faith
Simply Sunday
Imprints
The essence of its spirit,
elegant and strong,
left an imprint in the
afternoon clouds
I must have missed
Its graceful flight
Even the breeze was
unable to diminish the
wondrous wingspan or
stifle the sense of awe
captured by the clouds
Only as my journey ended
and I turned toward home,
did the image dissipate,
leaving delicate feathers
to float above the horizon
One enduring message-
Though no longer visible,
my spirit remains nearby-
Only close your eyes
and open your heart
“…but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.”
Isaiah 40:31 NIV
Dispersed
A battle between
light and dark
waged across the
morning sky.
Clouds shifted in
the swirling wind,
tilting the earth,
causing me to wobble.
I felt confused.
For a moment, darkness
appeared victorious,
blocking the light,
lessening its powerful pull.
But light remained,
rays now dispersed.
An influence
so far-reaching, the
horizon glowed a
reassuring golden hue.
Just then, I remembered
yesterday’s rainbow, and
how the sky glowed
following its fading.
Fingerprints
From our very first reach,
we leave lasting imprints
Tiny fingers, tiny toes
unaware of the enduring
impact engraved on
all who hold us close
Choice eventually becomes
part of the equation-
Deciding if what we leave behind
is positive, helpful, encouraging,
or cynical, hurtful, disheartening
Each imprint is personal
an identifying set of
lines and ridges
creating a pattern-
Sacred responsibility
held in every touch
I saw such a fingerprint
in the afternoon clouds-
Lines and ridges
creating a pattern
belonging to the one
who holds the sky
Unfolding
Logic would say today is gray
Tell me to move on
I take a second look, then a third
Subtle color variations appear
Lines of demarcation between
Heaven and Earth seem to ripple
within the rhythm of the wind
I keep looking until a tiny
semblance of light appears
from behind wispy layers
It doesn’t last long
Only a few seconds and a smile
Darkness covers the faded colors
Now, the sky is gray
Rain begins to fall
I smile again, grateful for those
subtle variations gracing
the morning sky-Preparing me
for the slow unfolding of today
Simply Sunday
A Lesson in Comparison
I have never seen
a blue so pale, barely blue.
Blurring the lines
between sky and cloud.
Still blue, only subdued.
The mood emanating from
those muted hues
is quite opposite from
this morning’s bird songs.
Playful conversations
I could only observe,
no matter how closely
I listened. Smile-inducing,
even without understanding.
Perhaps there’s a lesson
in the comparison.
Pale blue-an accurate description
of my current mood.
Playful conversations-an indication
of future possibilities.
An intriguing coexistence.
Past the Haze
The air is thick
Like molasses
So heavy, I
Can barely breathe
Wishing the gray sky
Would release its weight
And ease the tension
If only for a moment
But relief remains
Quietly hidden
Providing no clue
As to its arrival-
Perhaps it waits
For me, for you
To push through
And greet the day
Take my hand
Together, we’ll walk
In and out of the haze
Into light on the other side
Simply Sunday
Faith
The proof is often hazy
Evidence sometimes vague
Requiring intense searching –
You know the sun is there
Its warmth permeates your skin-
Your eyes see the light- But lines
Painted across the clouds
Are so faint
That they are visible
Only through squinted eyes –
And even then a sliver of doubt
As to your squinty-eyed realization
Creeps its way into your thoughts –
Close your eyes
Feel the warmth on your face-
Open your eyes
Believing the source remains
Even when temporarily out of view
Before Sunset
We took a walk
That time of the afternoon
When it feels like
The minutes pass by
A bit slower
A time when weeds
Serve as flowers
For little hands
To pick and share-
Your tiny feet
Moved ahead of mine
Far enough to bring
A tinge of nervousness-Until
I recognized the feathery
Wings of an angel
In the wispy clouds
Gracefully floating across the Blue-
A protector of our path
A guardian for my heart
As we turned around
And walked side by side
The path leading back home
Simply Sunday
I find myself more
And more often
Marvelling at the tiny things-
A singular whispy cloud
The feet of a bird
The way the wind echoes
While making its way
Through the row of pines
Across the street-
Even now, the gentle tap
Of raindrops on the roof-
Sometimes I feel silly
Talking about such things
Especially during times of heartache and confusion-
But I cannot ignore them-
I think maybe it’s these tiny things
That are holding me up
Pulling me through
Reminding me to see the hope
In my granddaughter’s eyes
Happy Easter! ✝️🕊️💜
“The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of deep darkness a light has dawned.”
Isaiah 9:2
Piano Girl 