Wednesday, January 30, 2013

Dripping Days

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Gentle dripping days,
a soft soak on a sucking parched sand,
makes me smile,
umbrella in hand,
camera in hand–a balancing act fed by passion and sighs.
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Bits and pieces,
simple strokes here and there
with power to slice to the heart, to dismember and wound,
power to elevate to the skies, to swell dashed hope,
locks to bind,
deceits to blind,
keys to free and give life,
simple strokes that change the world.

Monday, January 28, 2013

Desert Rain

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. . . and I was, of course, out walking in it! Happiness!
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My Winter Companions

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Where do you go in the bristly night
so as not to freeze–to save your life?
What strong will keeps you coming back
to a feeder’s ice and water stack?
Stretching wing, defending still
my yard, my deck, my windowsill,
its nectar rich but biting cold,
you feed my joy with darting bold–
my winter companions.
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We have lift off!
We have lift off!

Wednesday, January 23, 2013

Faith in the Wood

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The wild risk calls me in, but
fear weights my ankles.
It’s that fear that has hobbled my whole life.
The fear of the unknown,
the fear of betrayal,
the fear that call will not be greater than calamity.
If I could just see to the other side and know,
and not be blocked by wood upon wood upon wood.
But I’m heading in and up,
fear in my pocket, resolve in my heart
because the wild faith risk calls me on.
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Saturday, January 19, 2013

Let Us Prey

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For this which I am about to receive,
make me truly thankful!
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I love my hawks; though, I prefer not to watch them eat. They need to live, too!
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Mail Bonding

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About apronheadlilly

wife and mother, musician, composer / poet, teacher, and observer of the world, flawed Christ-follower
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The Dark Press

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Even when I’m laughing, I’m crying in some small part of me–
the part that sees the light, but feels the dark press over my shoulder.Close.
Sure steps are only as sure as this fragile moment,
for life is fractured, tenuous, and
those who forget are lost.
Even when I’m laughing, I’m crying
for redemption.

Wednesday, January 2, 2013

This One Moment

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The past clings to me–wraps itself around my ankles;
footfalls of memory drag my faith down.
The future looms big yet empty,
filled with possibility–often empty of direction.
But I have this moment.
I have this moment to seek,
to surrender,
to die to self.
I have this moment to be kind,
to be devout,
to love.
And I will leave the past and the future to God
for I have this one moment
to live.