Prepositions-A Poem of Praise
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Lovely Lydia dipped cloth in indigo dye, dressing royalty in the Kingly color of the day. I am wrapped today in color of another hue~ scarlet red~ covering me in impossibly laundered linens purchased by the Savior King who died descending into darkness, bursting forth in a blaze of Color That is Not– Purest White.
Texas Sky April 2011 Thunderclouds are roiling on the horizon, stacking up East-wise, threatening to move in– move in and dump. But they’re whiter than white can be and only so much vapor. I imagine their rumbling high over distant mountains, molecules leaving mess and mayhem, headed this way. But there’s no running for cover….
I’ve just finished reading Jennifer Dukes Lee’s new book “Love Idol”** and am becoming more aware each day of how I fashion my own not-gods out of man made materials. Last week I wrote and published (for less than 24 hours) a post about World Vision’s decision regarding same sex hiring practices. I wanted to add…
The noisy birds squawk and squeal, an out of sync chorus bent on harmony as discordant as a traffic jam. In between the garbled avian speech I hear a finch and a robin announce, “It’s morning!” In my very vague 4:30 a.m. brain I succumb to the sounds of Creation’s alarm clock and I am…
Hanan Samuel Collins, Age 8 Multnomah Falls, OR I wrote this poem on the January day in 2003 when my first grandson, Hanan Samuel, was born. Your birth today unequivocally proved that science still can do nothing at explaining the miraculous. The day you came into the world the…
Across the pencils pointed skyward like so many word-wielding swords past the gray and steel of overflowing desks filled with orphaned papers stashed, crumpled askew over the carpet-bland, sturdy, useable home to small and hopeful feet to the doorway–closed. Through it comes life and noise and limbs, any moment now– eager hearts, chattering faces, souls…