On REST and RISING

Sleep Remedies

Sleep is imperative,
and we are aware of it;
but when we think, there it is
. . . it leaves us right where it is.

I think, thinking is not of it
(though dreaming is part of it);
so, try listening to other things
and think nothing of the narrative . . .

Soon slumber comes, settling.
Or, begin a poem like this one is,
at four a.m.—too hard to think.
Now, here is a remedy! . . . riddling.

Or, this is comparative:
Sense fingers, toes and eyelashes—
one at a time . . . and think of it.
. . . When you cannot, you’ll sleep instead.

But, best of all is when He sings
within your heart a precious hymn
or gives a verse on which to think
and folds His peace beneath your chin.

Morning Dove

Might I hear a bird in the morning,
listening for a bird.
Might I rest another hour longer,
pressed in upon His Word.

. . . Jesus Himself would often slip away
to the wilderness and pray.
Luke 5:16 NASB

Little Gifts

Early in the morning
do, now, the loving things . . .
Send this one and that friend
what lights your soul as gifts.
Little gifts of poems and writings
and reminiscing thoughts
will send a smile to their hearts
as from your heart is brought.

Other things already press
to steal what has been given . . .
Waiting until evening time
will dull these things like prisms.
Illumination is most claimed
when the heart is waking, strong
to convey the tenderest of words
eternally as a song.
-
Inspired by the life of SaraBeth:
Like a spring day to a robin in need,
she invited me to notice and receive
His daily-presented little gifts.

In The Simplicity of Christ
A TRIBUTE

Giving thanks for SaraBeth,
a loving heart who showed the Way—
The sunshine gathered with each breath
she just as quickly gave away.

To think of her I am most blessed!
To hold her dear in heart, I pray
to show the Grace that loves with strength
and gathers sunshine
to give away.

On Canvas of Sky

O magnificent morning, I see you on the pale blue sky
as vivid orange dances quickly through your pearly clouds—
Some ecstatic moments to remind me of the reason why
I sometimes suffer silently,
no longer clothed in darkest shroud . . .

. . . to display today Your sacrifice of many years ago . . .
though Your subtle present pain is often left unseen
. . . to the yearning eyes of some parched soul
I am as those pearly clouds
when in magnificent vivid moments
You display Your life in me.

Even me.

MOUNTAINS TO PRAIRIES BED AND BREAKFAST