‘tis Sunday! Time for a revival.
It’s a celebration. Several days of praise
and charismatic speakers.
It is time for the bells
to be heard.
If we still walked the dusty streets
would excitement be at its peak?
Are the cars a yawn
that pull into the parking lot?
Will televisions be turned on,
instead of making a beeline
to be part of the angelic choir?
Who will dare to be unmasked?
Who are the holdouts?
Shout! Shout for joy
as we can still celebrate
and employ our lungs
to exaltation,
to raise the roof,
to blow the socks off,
to honor the King of kings,
the Lord of lords,
Father, Son and Spirit -
three in one
with the centrifugal gathering
that one day,
with trumpet force,
will find ourselves
amidst the angel armies
and all saved humanity.
‘tis Sunday!
Celebrate the upcoming days -
come one, come all
and give praise;
praise the Lord!
2/5/2023
It rained last night,
or rather it stormed
with thunder, lightning, downpours
too late for the garden
but welcomed by the earth
and the holdouts from summer.
The pond fish
love new water
it refreshes them and stirs
to encircled dancing swims and schooling.
The waterfall flows freely, unhampered by the algae
flushing the stones with bouncy drops
and the surface draws birds and yard creatures
to drink and stand in awe.
Rain cleanses
renews the spirit
binds us to the earth and existence
inspiring our contemplation.
Life thrives
and it is never too late
to recognize where we come from
accept our frailty in who we are.
Let the rain come
wash away all tears
make us whole again.
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