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Literature
bright orange pieces
The darkness of evening
kindles a half-light in me.
A sense of calm and sadness
and utter change.
I will see it later
in my dreams
as a burnt log breaking
into bright
orange pieces over
dying embers.
By morning
I will not remember
it the same way,
but might suddenly recall
how it felt
to be in love.
I would be glad
to know what my heart
can still do
after all this
time.
Literature
Leaping Spring
Spring leaps out
of winter's ridged frame.
Nimble, lithe and energetic.
Welcoming children to play their games.
The framed stillness
of a winter day.
Brightness glinting off the snow
like someone plucked the stars from their stay
But, spring soars
like a dove.
As rain falls on our shoulders.
A cleansing from above
Literature
I don't know how to write about God
I spent twenty minutes
arranging the wine, bread, and tablecloth,
and another hour in the garden
picking flowers, all for Jesus.
I felt the room breathing with its
own life before I ever even sat
down on the couch.
Last year I spilled the wine,
this time the bread falls off the plate,
cracking on the floor, Christ's broken body -
I'm so imperfect, small, a wailing babe.
I want to promise I'll be good
for the rest of my life, but that is impractical.
You and I know better.
You know there's too much
settled dust on this body,
just as there was
on the fine porcelain dishes
mother pulled from the china cabinet.
My footprints are muddy,
On writing.
© 2012 - 2024 MozartsNemesis
Comments13
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thank you so much for the fave, the kind words, and the llama. I really appreciate it.