Lighthouse-a Poem/Prayer

P_20190323_074539.jpg

I wish I could collect
the light, landing its shadows
on this page as it creeps
ever brighter through the gray.

Pour it out to wash my heart,
salve the wound of this
present heaviness, the sighs
that never end.

Hold it lightly aloft, praying
no sharp wind or
quiet, steady breeze
snuff it out, for we
need it so

Father, carry us,
ferry us through storms,
silent and proud as we
shine hope in the right
direction–people-ward
up ward.

Send us, spread us
like the daily sure rising
of your sun, that moves ever
on into the distant dark.

Similar Posts

  • Eden DNA

    We were made for Edendwellers with Godin his greengloryand goodnessamong the viningwonder and fragrant trees.We came from dirtcreation,witness to his fillingof this face of the earthwith his endlessimaginationnamed“witch hazel”“flowering quince”“red currant”“sweetbox.”He charged us ascaretakers of His Garden,resident keepers inhabiting the Heaven here on Earth (truly)made for eternity (Ecclesiastes 3)but shorting out our livesby seeking solace elsewhere.We sit…

  • Hearts on Pilgrimage-Poems & Prayers-My Upcoming Book

    Tell someone you’ve written a book and they’ll ask, “What’s it about?” Well, here’s my non-elevator pitch, from the Preface of Hearts on Pilgrimage-Poems & Prayers, January 2021.   The Path When I said my initial yes to Jesus over 40 years ago, I found poet Luci Shaw’s first book, Listen to the Green and was…

  • Goldfinches

    The feeder hangs swaying, no avian fellows alighting. (males are the brightest; why?) I wait and watch–they’ve flown I wonder where–for food? Will their shimmering yellow return, a harbinger of the lightening days ahead? Indeed, one by one, I know they’ll come hungry again (still) as they’ve done year after year finding food, flying beauty, feeding me with their…

  • The Ministry of Trees {a #poem}

    Autumn morning, my eyes are trainedthrough windows to the shadowshow on tree trunks, crayon box of colors falling through space from newly-revealed branches.Creator comes to mind, how Hecarries us, colors us, covers uswith His power, tree-like arms ourstrength, raising us Heavenward. Aware that sap is invisible, a pulsing, stickyriver, carrying nourishment in its wake while…

  • Up {a #Poem}

    “In the beginning” begs the existence of a dot, the endpoint of a line referencing time and movement, like an ant on the Golden Gate Bridge. If there is time (now) and movement (how?) why do we shun this guess the size of a galaxy, turn from the possibility of a God placing us just…

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *