Those Words

All words dress their tiny lines and curves in black, looking much the same. They blur together— grey streets across a page, taking us to bigger places. So why do some words— made of letters like the rest— stop my eyes, catch my heart, and drain me as if they bear the beauty of a … Continue reading Those Words

My Poet

Most people come in prose— masterpieces that the world could not do without. But when You wrote me, you wrote poetry— imaginative, concise, and rhyming You. And when I look around, I see glory where others see cliche— bits of poetry sprouting in the grass, jumping trees with squirrels, resting moon-like in the clouds. I … Continue reading My Poet

Winters

How dreary! Winters in the South— grey trees against the mournful sky— weeping, sulking, drudging in the cold. ••• Make my heart like winters of the West— unending sky that gives and gives the snow— swirling, glittering, hopeful in the cold.

Puzzles

Who can solve the puzzle of life? All the tiny pieces— the incomprehensible piles strewn across the table— plague the mind. We know there’s a picture there— somewhere, but how and where and when do the pieces fit? ... God knows. ... Take the piece He gives you, and lay it at his feet. One … Continue reading Puzzles

Puddles

Puddles, unlikely windows to the sky, small, impure, vanishing with passing day, trace a gaze-inviting glimpse of the grandeur of the heavens. May the Grandeur of Heaven trace Himself on me, making me, though small, impure, vanishing with passing day, an unlikely window to the Sky.