Poetry: Literature that evokes a concentrated imaginative awareness of experience or a specific emotional response through language chosen and arranged for its meaning, sound, and rhythm.
Your life is a story like the wind, Like the sky, Like a river, Or a ship on the sea. Harder still to understand; Let if flow this story, let if flow. Search the sea’s, search the skies; Search for the Spirit of the great heart, The Spirit of the great heart to … More Your life is a story like the wind!
I am that I am, said He. I was, I am, I will be-There! He was there, at the mountain. He will be there as promised. If you doubt, go and see. It is there as He will be, until the end of time, and Beyond!
The mountain is simply there. The mountain of God is where the word say’s it is-in Midian. Was it a matchstick formed at the creation to be sparked by the Presence in its time? Is it an idea formed in a religious time? Is it a symbol formed through the sands of minds? Whatever it … More Reflections of Sinai II
I live now under the shadow of Mount Shasta. I moved here from the shadow of Mount Sonoma. It was a long hard shadow for me, hard but good. It is fading. For I have been to Mount Sinai and camped before it’s shadow. It’s shadow is across all lands, all minds and all hearts. … More From the Shadows of Sinai
Peace of mind, comes with time out of mind. Time out of troubles, time beyond time. Time spent walking in the realms of wonder, time spent beyond,leads to peace of mind. Peace of mind comes with time out of mind.
Who cares for truth in a lawless age, when Pope and potentate rage? Who cares for truth in this lawless age where relativity contends against the sage? The scales shift to suit the headlines or the editors view, will this really do? Finding truth will save our time, if quick we look to … More Who cares for truth in a lawless age?
These vast vistas, the wide empty; Many pass through, pass over, pass by; Missing the simple magnificence. The simple can see, the pretentious and conceited are blind, blind to the beauty of solitude. They preferring the clap trap noise, the clutter that is able to silence, silence their inability to perceive the simple magnificence. … More The wide empty
She a wise old woman, I a forlorn and wondering youth. Wisdom was her tutor, wisdom found in the deep abiding waters of true life. Wisdom spoke. She listened and shared. I youth then, older now, yet younger than when we spoke. I was older then, I’m younger than that now. For I listened to … More Go back to where you last heard…
In the quiet, the empty, wisdom speaks. Wisdom flows to the receptive. The vast quite is loud with life, life of a different sort than on the boisterous boarders of humanity. Places of our craftiness are not quiet. Seldom is it so. Here in the big empty on can hear silence and the thoughts of … More Quiet
God’s word is the way, His spirit the light. How can you see your way without the light? With light but no way, how can you know where to walk? God’s word is the way, His spirit is the light.
works of words 