Be still and know, I am here ~
God speaks to us in many ways
One is through the natural rhythms of nature
By being still and listening
By watching the morning sun rise
By feeling the crisp autumn air
By walking along a forested trail
We can feel the gentle flow of life
Tuning ourselves into God speak
I sit outside on my wooden deck
high in tasseled oak tree tops
overlooking Lake Ann’s sanctuary shores
Life draws me here . . .
like the call of a lone heron or the
delightful
sightings of returning birds
in full
migration
like calm gentle breezes
carrying soft Arkansas rains
rains
streaming over an open hand
then laying softly upon my finger tips
My favorite spot in the whole world
is here . . .
everchanging in every season
in every hour
in every light
in every darkness
in every sunrise
in every sunset
but all still the same
Tree frogs and bull frogs sounding their calls
like music melodies playing
all recognizable frames
from some now remembered childhood song
Beyond this place or time or space
a slightly new dimension evolves
beyond words, sight or sounds
untouchable
except in the now
this exact time
this exact moment
– living –
I’m surrounded by nature here
the trees are all around me
over the cove and mountain ridges
forested woodlands encircle Lake Ann
like a land bowl owned by the very sky
lands made up of a treasure trove in green
From Lancashare Irish green, to new shades unnamed
like a favorite Monet painting
revisited
sight unseen
yet familiar in every way
I can be here . . .
like a hearth’s burning wood fire
sustainable throughout the day
rebuilt again and again
so it lasts the whole night
– warmth –
I can be here . . .
like somewhere
understands
know’s you
get’s you
believes
in you
Where the storms come to die
and flashes right out of existance
suddenly passing
Where you regain your center
your bearings
your strength inside
– renewal –
like the gentle flutter of tender butterfly kisses
a soft call of prayers
a knowing of angels and God
all for being in such a place as this
where the world meets the divine
and your heart sees again
I’m held here by a single moment
Stepping outside
Into the cold winter warmth
A soft morning light bathes my soul
In gentle touches
Sweet as sweet soft cheek kisses
Reflections of both land and sky
Shine upon a stilled Lake Ann
Out-stretching trees linger over its shores
Forever, falling into the depths below
But, soon this Escher painting will vanish too
In the distance
Canadian Geese fly through the cove
Leaving only echoes behind
An Ozark mountain sunrise moves over the ridge
And twilight blues
Turn into day
Leaving the world silenced and still
Oh, how my heart wishes to stay
Pausing in this day
For just one more treasured moment
Held in peace and joy
How thankful I am . . .
Gratitude floods over me
Surrounds me
Wraps its arms around me
I embrace this place
With each breath I breathe
Wishing again for a single morning star-rise
But, I must go
Let my eyes see
In beauty & stillness lay
Fresh & new once again
To know you are with me
The morning is full of vapors
Like an old sunken ship
Lost at sea
Soft summer sun peaks over
The Ozark mountain ridge
And dapples through the mighty oaks
Pouring down into the cove over Lake Ann
Carrying ~ forever shadows
By the arm fulls
As I gather each and every one
I lay them into my lap
With morning smiles and joy
Morning glides into my day
Soft ~ and fully emerging
Changing ~
Changing everything
It touches . . . Even me
world’s largest lamplight
shines on this lonely night
stark skies
held by a February snow moon
sitting side-by-side with Jupiter’s starlight
tracing a lighthouse sky!
*{shared with @dVerse Poetics Open Link}
Once more
These late summer days
Unfold into glorious
September Gold
First Phase — SKY
Sky blues
At an all time high
Blue, blue, blue
So blue ~ I could even fly
Second Phase — EARTH
many harvest colors
scratch the landscape ~
old brown hardwoods
new roadside reds
bright orange edges and
yellow sunshine golds
just simple stubble
on these ancient hills
sticking out —
like an old man growing
a brand new beard
orchards sit
on both sides of the road
plentiful red delicious apples
ready for picking and
offering apple cider makings
Third Phase — WATER
summer droughts
have parched the lands
and stilled rivers
but now
from around the bend
over and across the cove
moving down river
Cyrstal Springs and
Sugar Creek waters
begin to flow again
Fouth Phase — PEOPLE
framed by tree bridges
campfires and paddle boats
new campsites dug in
tents and trailers
fill every nook and cranny
fairy tales
fly out of story books
stories abound —
cane pole fishing and
catching rainbow trout
for iron skillet cooking
grandpa
tapping maple trees
for their sweet sugar sap
stirring up golden brown
home made country syrup
Fifth Phase — SPIRIT
And I . . .
watch each new sunrise
listen to the morning blue heron calls
pray for peace and some measured joy
then
with one step
walk out again
along these Ozark woodland trails
now through overgrown shores
waiting to hear the call to stay!
Once more
These late summer days
Unfold into glorious
September Gold
Once upon a hill
In the fresh Ozark mountain air
A Fall Arkansas rain lingers here
Damp on God’s sweet earth
Bowed bows encircle me
As I travel down Dairy Hollow Road
Transclucent green leaves
Make a large cathedral overhead
Forming arch after arch of perfect tree bridges
I look up to my sky and see
Only slivers of sunlight
Woodland trees and leaf shadows
Spin like stained-glass images
A raven flies solo
High above the hollow
Finding its roost along rock ledges
Clear Spring is mighty clear
No run here
Oh, dear God
You give us our day
Our sacred gifts
A treasured cove of earth and sky
All these wonders to behold
And even in my own meager wanderings
Each road I travel is framed and signed by you!
Journal Writing
Eureka Springs, Writer’s Colony
Saturday Morning, September 6
JOURNAL ENTRY ONE
Making a morning cup of tea
Sitting at my writing desk
It is still dark night
A street lamp light
Moves gold through woodland trees
Casting shadows upon shadows
JOURNAL ENTRY TWO
Outside the Peach Blossom Room
A bottom porch of sorts moves you along stairs or around to the front
A beautiful garden hosting bright orange and purple Zina’ blooms
Standing on a ledge a large pot of basil to grace our meals
JOURNAL ENTRY THREE
A soaking Arkansas rain yesterday
Leaving cool mountain air refreshed and muted damp earth smells
The trees still seem to be sleeping too
I listen for any sound – proof that night is turning into day
I hear nothing at first, no bird song, no wrestling of leaves
Then from far back into the woods
I hear tree frogs, beautiful night sounds
Calling their lonesome songs
As they cradle our heads while we sleep
“Hush, my darling, close your eyes and rest”
We still need time to gently summon life to awake once more!
Sunday morning, September 7
JOURNAL ENTRY FOUR
A nightlight suddenly has been turned off
The black smoke screen of night
Gives way to twilight’s raising eyebrow
Painting the sky a light pale blue grey
Bathing the day in a holy shroud
I rise early before the dawn
Holding on to sacred spaces in the midnight hour
Before the awakening hour of day
Dairy Hollow
Fills these deep woods with stories yet untold
It is so very quiet, you can hear yourself say, “hush”!
JOURNAL ENTRY FIVE
I walk this vibrant path
Stone upon stone
Laid by bare hands upon this sweet earth
Held in a grey misty day
Knowing a moment within my soul
Truth suddenly considered
Connecting mortar
Capturing brightness stolen from the mist
Touched and then worked into something new
JOURNAL ENTRY SIX
I push myself I awake
Before twilight danced upon the sky
Wrapped in a warm blanket from a night’s rest
My cottage door steps right into the hillside
Large grey rain-soaked stones led upstairs and around to front
A second path of grass and earth follows the house around
I need to feel the air . . .
How is the outside?
How is the day?
I have to step out even if it’s just for a while
Listen to sounds & just be part of God’s day!
Sunday afternoon, September 7
JOURNAL ENTRY SEVEN
Walking down the cobblestone sidewalks
In the middle of shops and streets converging
I quickly get lost into the city
Noticing the sights and sounds of Eureka Springs
Corners are everywhere
Edges softened by the rain
Sitting on a public park bench
Watching others talking and walking by
I say, “I’m not in a hurry”
“Don’t mind me, I’m just sitting here”
Monday Night, September 8
JOURNAL ENTRY EIGHT
Full Moon Over Dairy Hollow
There is a super moon rising
The last one for summer
I’m outside sitting with the moon, Neptune and Pluto too
Taking in the soft hugs from the moon above
Framed by hollow tree bridges lining every roadside curve
The sky only opens when you near the top of the hills
Or climb toward one of the springs
Just at the edge of country wildness
I meet two red foxes as they scurry under the hillside
In a Land O’ Nod and sleepy Ms. Nibbles
Tucked into the hillsides
On Spring Street, Main or the Middle Street
Casa Colina and Stone House sleep before midnight
But the main Lady, Crescent Castle and St. Elizabeth from Hungary
Shine their lights to adorn the night
Literature, Liturgy & Love of the Word
A Nature Farm
Book reviews, author interviews, and literary news.
The Church of Christ
of the Pacific Northwest: Interactions with the wild things--Live life outdoors!
