Somehow, I feel I connect with God at a level of heart feelings. I wish for God to feel my heart. A poet tries to express this on paper to stir these feelings in others. Fragrant blossoms stirring in a springtime breeze, golden leaves floating in an autumn gust, a kitten following an ant through the grass, all things that pull at our heartstrings as we build pictures around the words.  Words make us happy, angry, sad, and sometimes, even indifferent, according to the experiences we bring with us to analyze what we read.

Trail to Jabez

A lonesome, uphill trail
Leads to the mountain of despair,
Through a forest sodden with
The moisture of broken dreams,
Laden with loose rocks of discouragement.

Thorns of temptation tear at the heart
Creeping vines of entanglement
Wrestle with weeds of regret.

Distress surrounds like cold mist
From a waterfall
Pressing in on dark fears and calamity.

Tiny flowers of tears and loneliness spring up,
Pushing through the foliage of wrong choices,
Until suddenly---
The trail falls into a great ravine.

Beyond the chasm,
Sun shines on a garden called Eden.

With arms lifted up in prayerful attitude
And lips of praise---
I whisper...

"Jesus, take my hand."

Ashes In The Wind

My song becomes silent
Passing as a cloud.
I look and I see
My heart follows my eyes.

My words fall as ashes,
Drawn away by the wind,
such a small thing
Making no shadow.

My tears melt into mist
As a wispy vapor
Rising in despair,
To be no more.

Simply You

When I think of you
As I often do,
I feel warm and bubbly inside
And I . . .
I want to smile.

When I see you walking toward me
The bubbles begin to spill over,
And I know that I'm . . .
I'm going to smile.

when I hear your voice
Warm like wine,
Mountain brooks and high meadow flowers
Tickle right here and I . . .
I smile.

And I look and I see,
You're smiling too.

The Rose

A tiny rosebud beside the garden fountain,
Sun-ripening and dancing with life
Her petals open, reaching for warmth
Bursting with growth.

Moist earth, summer fragrance,
And the sound of the fountain
Caress her delicate petals
Now shimmering from the morning dew.

Oh! A fall frost lurks nearby
That reaches to touch the fragile flower,
To steal her fragrance by the fountain,
That now runs cold with falling leaves floating.

She has pushed her way through thorns,
Fought off pestilence and storm,
Now her Protector reaches...
A gentle hand to offer His own Eternal Water.

Every time I spend time in my garden,
(I call the whole backyard my garden) it's a
spiritual experience. The birds sing, the frogs
croak, the bees buzz and the whole area is alive
especially this time of year. There are so many
places I've wanted to see for ever so long but
when I'm in my garden everything's different. It's
peaceful and God speaks through the miracle of
growth so clearly. It's like... suddenly I have the
whole world at my fingertips and don't need
anything more. I guess I don't try to analyze things.

I learned a long time ago to take one day at a
time, He will do the rest. My prayers center
around those I care about, past, present, and
perhaps, future. I ask Him to allow me peace and

freedom, love, and the quality of life to enjoy all
He has for me. I thank Him every day for the
clarity of mind to see Him in all things. Where
He leads, I will follow. I go to church on Sunday
for the fellowship. I worship every day of the
week for that is where my freedom is. I have
reverence for nature, life, and friendship. Beyond
this I remain silent until He leads.