Step forward now in a brand-new way,
Encourage yourself as David did say.
The balancing acts, the burdens we bear,
With weights in our hands, will soon vanish in air.
As we worship Him, He steadies our path,
Guiding us gently, withholding His wrath.
Jehovah Jeriah, Rapha, Nissi -
In His Grace and Blood, we walk freely.
We are pressing through, we are coming strong,
We are overcomers, that’s where we belong.
With divine wisdom, re-arrange the ruins,
Transforming lives and cities, breaking chains.
Build a new, for miracles draw near,
On our path, manifestations, will soon appear.
Listen closely to your heartbeat’s sound,
Let your uniqueness be truly unbound.
We are stepping forward, no longer delayed,
In purpose and power, divinely arrayed.
If you believe, as I do, in fairy tales….
then believe this message from Little Jack Horner….
who with only his thumb discovered
miracles can be found in the most unlikely of corners
If Miracles,
Numerical,
Fun's Light!
To Raise The Field's Of Sunday's
Service, .... Wide!
Today I’m grateful for butterflies and luna moths…
how they easily deceive the naked eye….
How when we see them for a moment we believe…
there are flowers that can fly.
When the light of Self is fully ingrained,
moment by moment in our waking state,
we are from all limitations unchained,
conjuring as we like, our preferred fate,
yet with no agenda we wish to state.
Our wish is God’s command as requested,
with intent instantly manifested,
there being absolutely no delay
as we look on, in cave of heart nested,
making magic we weave seem like mere play.
There was once
a pink plaid elephant
whose trunk I kissed to sleep.
I won her fair and square—
a coloring contest,
Top Value Stamps.
She slept beside me
every night.
Her trunk, softened by chewing.
One ear, forever folding
from a bent wire frame.
And a stab wound—
just below her left flank—
a potato peeler,
courtesy of my sister.
Then one day,
she vanished.
We moved.
Boxes swallowed childhood things.
Grown-ups said nothing.
I missed her for fifty years
until one day
I typed her name into eBay—
a whisper
into a well
not expecting an answer.
And there she was—
chewed trunk,
crumpled ear,
scar stitched
in the same exact place.
Time is a circle.
And miracles wear plaid.
I held her in both hands,
afraid to blink.
She’d come back.
She had always
been coming back.
Wonders leave everyone with something
to wonder and ponder,
While diving under the sea,
Walking down the street,
Or climbing over yonder.
Miracles are never indefinite
but definitely definitively-forever defined
Leaving everyone with nothing
to ever wonder or ponder
here there or over yonder.”
Sun slowly peeps its head in the east, Bird barbet flies towards its nest, Labourer follows the landlord with the beast, Blue heron sits on the tree for rest, The big temple bell is rung by the priest, Children run towards the river with vest, Village maiden prepares the harvest feast, Babies feed milk from the blouse less breast, All the events have taken place at least, When the dawn sunshine appears very best, God has done all natural phenomena like Trieste, By that the children of the earth are blessed, We thank the creator for the peaced.
I feel the grace of God now
I feel the Spirit move in me
Move inside of me somehow
And now I feel so free
You are a God of miracles
You're a God of quiet peace
Bless You Lord, bless Your name
I can't wait to see Your face
miracles move mysteriously
midst faith's momentum...
my life of mirth against misery
molded by God* so mighty
marked with His wondrous mercy
magnifies such marvel
*Psalm 77:14 - Thou art the God that doest wonders: thou hast declared thy strength among the people.
February 17, 2025
8th place, "YOUR CHOICE O" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand; judged on 4/15/2025
Lift your voice, and sing spiritual hymns.
Raise your hands, and give God the praise, and glory.
Hear God, and preach the gospel.
Thank God for creating you, and giving you eternal life, and not death.
Everyday is a blessing from God.
Be a witness, and a living testimony of God's word, and truth.
No conviction of sin will harm you.
Speak God's name, and confess with your mind, and body forgiveness from sin, and have a willing heart to do his will.
There is salvation in heaven.
Divine revelation, and a gift of God's unconditional love will save you.
See, and hear God reign over the world, heaven, and hell.
They’d fallen in love
as some young people do—
so that lust might rationally increase.
Their bright, valentine-red-blood fairly beat for love.
It’s good that we can name a thing—
describe it and classify it, so it’s out there,
fact-like, in the flimsy, indefinite poetry-verse
It was a day for it, as the sun, that most followed star,
was a carnotite paintball-splotch against a sky stitched of turquoise
and the quality of the light was sentimentally beyond reproach.
Their gallant love seemed to cast a radiance too, a bright, collateral light,
which was of greater reassurance than any by-rote, muttered words.
No one denied the ambition of their love, it was both a mess and a revelation. And no one could pretend the moment was ordinary, that the atoms that spun and gripped our world together weren’t woven yet more inseparable by their union.
The greatest, alas, may choose to bless or deny that such a miracle as love, lasts.
.
.
Songs for this:
Under Your Spell by Snow Strippers
You Can Have It All by Yo La Tengo
I have seen what He can do
Admired all that He has done
It was for all the people
That His race was actually won
Behold my child now listen
To the things I have to say
Important things that you should know
To tell them all one day
It's that Christ is a true healer
Some think it's magic but it's not
To everyone He is a healer
Believe me miracles' what He's got
Love is non-mechanical
it doesn’t crank, pinion
or always work dependably.
In cavalier moments, I thought I knew
something of how it all works—
it’s apertures and shafts—
its grinds and reciprocations.
I’d judge it’s motions
work its levers, judge its spins,
and address its slippery angles.
You could call me obsessive
but obsessive people don’t
obsess this much.
You could call me compulsive
but the compulsive aren't
this compulsive.
All I can do is poise, balance
or swipe a little black credit card.
It’s the only magic I have.
I can’t turn bread into wine
or fish into water.
I can’t make the blind walk
the deaf to see or the lame to
taste again.
God reserves some miracles,
keeps them as close to the vest
as cards.
Jugglers work the circus,
mimes thrash to communicate,
and tightrope walkers fall.
.
.
Songs for this:
Viva la vida by Cold Play
When There Is Love by Karen Sokolof Javitch
The Rainbow Connection by Sarah McLachlan
.
.
How about a Christmas playlist! Because Christmas is in 10 days!
www.daweb.us/xmas/Christmas_29.mp3
To winners it’s a miracle,
To losers a sad debacle,
The winners win somehow
And losers know not how,
Both wish they were warned by an oracle.
___________________
Tongue-in-cheek |09.10.2024| political, humour
Poet’s note: Recent elections have shown that all exit polls and predictions have gone wrong. Winners know not how they won, nor the losers know why they lost. Miracle to some, to some debacle, all wish there was an oracle.
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