Within the warmth of home, I sit amazed
at the gentle fall of snow through window pane.
Cup of tea in hand, my layered thoughts unchain,
and tumble from the tip of tongue unfazed
to land upon a pristine page appraised,
aided by the silent fall through snowy pane.
Oh, the soft white wintry glow 'pon the lane
leaves a graceful drape, Lord be praised.
Within the warmth of home, I muse on themes
of days to come and those gone bye and so,
I thank the Lord for all of nature's schemes,
for the gift of time, for peace, and for the snow.
Oh, make the blanket deep, I wish to dream,
may all my days and 'morrows have this glow.
What if Mother Nature
and I applied for her position?
How would I dare
her un-ending cycles;
her secret duties?
Could I invoke such power,
or must I simply become her?
into a cocoon of natural faith.
Let the atoms of the cosmos
transform my light into spirit.
Would I then emerge,
complete with every force of mystery?
Awaken each day with pink mist,
and burn each evening sky
Command each leaf, each breath
and every symphony
Would I wear her gowns
of argent, lavender and aqua;
step lightly on mossy stones,
and dance upon silver meadows?
Grace the heavens
in cloud-white glinting wings
the depths of darkest night
bear stars, filled
with the promise
of every beginning?
As I stand on the shore of lake Huron in Ontario, Canada
Marvelling at all the beauty with autumn at her peek
I see what I assume a flying leaf upon a cool breeze
Until it lands upon my hand and folds its wings
Velvet orange, striped with black, edged with dots of white
I watch in awe as that monarch butterfly once again takes flight
Four times it had to shed its skin to pick itself up off the ground
A caterpillar that stole away in a chrysalis until its truth was found
Four generations would come and go before its final stage
A journey over land and sea, two thousand miles of flight
To a mountain range in Mexico ... its final destiny where it would
Join …millions and millions of other monarch butterflies
that somehow against all odds survived…
A miracle is what I see each time the butterfly, flutters by.
For the Contest
Miracles are as real as bone and flesh,
Our small world is full of the unexplained,
In waters cold and with each hopeful breath,
I prayed for a child with words unrestrained,
Kneeling to waves till their tows were ingrained.
The sky sympathized with burdened, dark clouds,
My longings were told to rough winds, out loud,
Your will be done, God, but I’ve love to give,
This servant bows low, no longer too proud,
To humbly ask that my dream at last live.
ABOUT THIS POEM
This is completely true. After sixteen years of infertility, I ‘heard’ a voice deep inside say, “It is time.” I immediately booked a vacation for myself and my husband to Port Elgin, Ontario. It was September, and Lake Huron was cold. People no longer swam. It was a week of rain and storms. Each day I would get up, walk to the beach and swim, as locals wearing raingear would walk their dogs on the boardwalk and shake their heads at me. Each morning, I’d swim and talk to God. I’d pray to Him, tell Him I had heard Him, and that I was ready to be a mom and that if it was His will, I would be the best mother I could be. I returned home and when I took my pregnancy test two weeks later, it said positive. The picture above is NOT mine, but mirrors what greeted me each day and where I rolled with the waves and felt God’s presence. I told my husband, even before we got there, we would be making a baby. I was that certain. After sixteen years, I still believed. This truth I must speak. I am beholden to my Maker who gifted me with a precious girl. AMEN!
The world that once was slumbering
Beneath the quilt of Winter's snow
Is now set free to gladly see
The rays of golden sunlight
He peeks at first so shyly through
The drifting clouds of leaden grey
And then, behold his beams of gold!
A kiss of gentle sunshine
The trees are budding, flowers bloom
And shades of gentle green abound
The birds of spring so sweetly sing
While kissed by rays of sunlight
How father-like the sun looks down
In glorious warmth and light
To see the things his fire brings --
The miracle of sunshine
From east to west he travells on
In grandly royal golden robes
A pilgrim man, that once began
Benignly sending raylets
As here I watch th'unfolding spring
And bask in beams of heaven's king
I think of monarchs, once divine
Whose wond'rous kingdoms once did shine
This sun hath missed not one poor soul
But fondly with a tender touch
Hath kissed the maids that dwelt in glades
Of distant lands now vanished
Now all, I think, once gently kissed
Have sung the praise of heaven's rays
And all, it seems, that Sun hath wist
Have tracked his run throughout their days
His rhythmic climb and equal fall
While heeding Nature's firmest call
His constant change, yet still the same
When once returned from whence he came
A mystery, a miracle
At times a friend, at times severe
But each new day at Dawn's approach
Reveals the kiss of sunshine
Their petals are falling as their colors change
It wasn’t this way before but is it strange?
These roses are dying in delicate sweet sorrow
Will their love shed too? Or will it see tomorrow?
Petals and love falling slow like soft snowflakes
A little change in season is all it takes,
But will these roses bloom again in a new morn?
Will their love come back to greatly adorn?
Will their beauty be gone forever once it fades away?
Or will it come back to make everything okay?
For what will the roses be worth if their beauty dies forever?
Will the image and value from them permanently sever?
Will the light in their eyes suddenly become dark?
As their splendor and significance steadily grow stark?
Or will they rise like light at the beginning of dawn?
And be reborn more beautiful than a swan?
The summer passed so fast
I thought you and I would never last
You told me our memories won’t be just a blast
Ever was I the one to doubt our past.
Clouds were soon hiding the sun
The difficult hadn’t even yet begun
I saw your shadow everywhere I went
I guess that’s just how much you meant.
But even in the darkest hour
The moon was there-a source of power
And each look made you feel so near
A dream to chase the presence of my fear…
And the storm calls to me in ways you'll never understand
A gentle call that urges my soul forth
The lighting guiding a path for my feet to walk
Between the stones and ash of all that once was
I stand in the echoing silence of the rain
It drops down upon my skin like the blessing waters of heaven
Soothing me, lifting the weight from my body
I feel at once as if I am home
Standing amid two dimensions
Caught between two skies - here and there
The night wraping around me in warmth
The gentle wind lifting me off my feet
Drops from the clouded moon washing away my body
and I am left just a soul, an essence
The storm calls me forth from beneath my roof
Beckoning me into its depth
I stand among the reeds in the basin
They dance and sway as if welcoming me
And I sway with them back
Caught up in the power that charges the air
That threatens to sweep me away
If the ground will just loosen its hold
The thunder rumbles a low welcoming growl
And I get pleasently lost within it
I am so small compared to its vastness
I close my eyes and succumb to the skies wishes
Rising higher until my feet no longer touch the ground
My fingertips touch the liquid color of the stars
A sigh drifts from my lips
There is no need of thought to stay afloat
There is no demand to breathe in air
No crushing weight upon my chest
As my lungs struggle to survive
There are no struggles here
I make my bed on blackened clouds
And give in to the call
The storm has claimed me as its own
It was such a struggle to stay upon the ground
When the storm would call me home
searching the northern sky
the setting sun
painting the evening sky
in colours of the rainbow
the glory of the cosmos
unending in space and time
Alas there is no more confusion,
finally found my last conclusion.
Expect me as if Jesus will return,
from a ghost to a realm of concern.
Your dreams are portals like doors,
welcoming spirits into hasten wars.
Leaving the thoughts without trust,
keeping your fears in much disgust.
And though you sought no consequence,
deeds that confirm a wicked malevolence.
Awaiting in your nightmare of screams,
enjoy what is left amongst your dreams.