Full Moon In A Hungry Sky

 

Image Source ~here~

"She wasn't doing a thing that I could see,
 except standing there leaning on the balcony rail,
 holding the universe together."
  ~ J. D. Saliner

We cradle the precious things

and place them carefully upon our lap

the miracle of newness is like a sacred prayer

it is hands raised high and heads bowed low

yet always in that moment eyes opened wider

we marvel and bask in the wonder of it all

it is a full moon in a hungry sky

hope’s whisper of a million questions

before the answers will ever reach our lips

a blooming garden at our feet

a child’s hand clutching ours

yet still we walk too fast

as time brushes by.

 

 Linking with the Sunday Muse for Muse #213

Come join us!

A Poem of Both Earth & Sky

 

Linking with the Sunday Muse for Muse #157

“That a pansy is transitive, is its only pang.”  ~Emily Dickinson

Earth can always be broken

stirred and planted

made new

the gardener knows this

and the miracle it holds

 but men still build monuments

cement driveways and parking lots

he only sees what he wants to see

but like the gardener, children see greater things

 spirits and miracles of what can be

an unearthed flower that was once but a buried seed

for the flower is a poem of both earth and of sky

and reaches beyond the doorway of an old man's eyes

it is the true architecture of God.

Note: I wanted to write this in honor of Earth Day and in honor of all the trees that have been cut down.  Where I live there are no codes nor ordinances for building around trees, they just cut them all down and wonder why we are having so many flooding issues.

It is sad on so many levels; the carelessness, the damage,  and the loss!

A Mighty Ocean and a Magnificent God

Image Source

~This is a response to a beautiful poetry prompt book given to me by my dear daughter Amber.~
Each page of the prompt book is a different word subject. This one is:
The Ocean

Let God's promises shine on your problems. ~Corrie Ten Boom

“It is bigger than we are” he said to me,

 speaking of the affliction of addiction

 evading our youngest son.

My heart had long since broken in countless pieces,

like grains of sand along the shore.

You see, the love we have

for our children

is a force that grows with time

and their struggles and heartbreak

are a sorrow we also hold just as tight.

Fears and hopes can be mighty things,

like an ocean across the horizon

becoming all we can see

but like a gentle soul once told me,

“God is bigger and He is with us.”

It is an awe-inspiring truth,

that God the maker of the universe

chooses to dwell within us

yet is gentle enough to ask.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Many miracles and sorrows

have happened since that day.

My son is now whole in Christ,

and so are the pieces of my heart.

Whenever I think of what God can do

 I think of the beautiful and mighty ocean,

and when I stand before the sea

It is our beautiful and mighty God

that I truly see.

©Carrie Van Horn 2019

Giggles and Snowflakes

Photo Credit

"Childhood is the most beautiful of all life's seasons."  ~Author Unknown

Well I guess this week we say farewell to winter and hello to spring....just thought I would post something in celebration of the seasons of life....Happy Spring everyone!

The Loves of My Life

Love comes into our life so many ways, but it is the little ones that we give birth to in this world and hold utterly within our arms that capture our heart completely...

...and then God sends us more through ways we could not have planned or expected and our lives are even more blessed....

....and each one of these wonderful grown children is the love of my life!

...and then there is the Grandchildren.....well they come along and we fall in love all over again....and they rule our heart and world!

 

 

Who is the love of your life?....and why?

All That We Behold

"All that we behold is full of blessings. " ~William Wordsworth

What we see when we look at the world has a way of changing from the time we are youngsters, to adulthood.  The view through that familiar living room window changes light.  We no longer see with a sense of fascination.  The magical goggles somehow get removed from those brilliant eyes.   Then bifocals replace them with a mundane outlook.  The only way to see that glorious vision again is to remove the layers of practical callus upon the soul, and see like a child once more.

I have always believed that you can learn more from a child than you can a text book, when it comes to the matters of the heart.  They wear their heart out on their sleeve, and do not mind sharing how they feel or what they see.  We learn to be patient in their haste, and we learn to be honest from the example and tendernous of a child's presence.  They see the world as an adventure and a wonder.  There is a certain grace in innocense, and a graciousness in the innocense of a child.  They are open to love and acceptance of others.  Something that we could use having a little more of in our adult lives. 

Another Thanksgiving is arriving once again.  The holiday season is always a busy time, making it easy to loose sight of the simple pleasures that matter most.  So I challenge myself and anyone that wants to venture with me to put back on those magical goggles of a child.  To see the world and all it's beauty, knowing that there are so many blessing in every direction we look.  We have so much to be thankful for.  Just take a peek out your living room window, and you will get your first glimpse.

Happy Thanksgiving to everyone in blog land! 


Sharing with Imaginary Gardens With Real Toads

Also linking with Poets United Poetry Pantry # 76

Aunt Matilda's Big Purse

Monday's Child #18

Aunt Matilda had a big purse that appeared to be larger than life.

It was wider than a cavern and taller than a kite.

She carried it on her elbow, or clutched it with her wrist.

And if anyone  tried to take it, they would surely receive a fist.

We joked that if you put your hand in, a rabbit would be pulled out.

For magicly she had everything needed to solve a dillemma without a doubt.

One time she sent me to get her wallet for money for the icecream man,

and when I reached inside, I found a set of pots and pans.

Yes, Aunt Matilda had a big purse that was bigger than us tykes.

It was wider than a cavern, and taller than a kite.

The Empty Room

This poem was written many years ago by my stepdaughter Amber.  She lost her oldest child when he was merely 2 years old, but his smile lives on in our all our hearts, and in Heaven.

What good is a bed where no one will sleep?

And an empty room where one person weeps?

What good is a shirt that no one will wear?

Attached to memories of someone not there.

What good is a toy with no one to play?

Where laughter once was, but did not stay.

What good is a book that sits unread?

Filled with words that are no longer said.

What good is a picture where no one smiles?

As good as a mother without a child.

By Amber Whitworth
Written for Seth 

A Net Full of Butterflies

Think Tank Poetry Promt #4

I can hear it in your voice, the angry words you can't forget.  A heartache's anthem is echoing over and over in your head.  But can you remember when you were just a child, it was easy to hear the magic in the song.  You could dance around all day no matter what went wrong.  Just close your eyes and try,

for a child sets anger free like a net full of butterflies.

I can see it in the tears that you never cry, you are not as strong as the shield you hide behind.  But can you remember when you were just a child, and it was easy for the tears to fall like rain.  When you were upset it was written all over your face.  Just close your eyes and try,

 for a child lets pride go like a net full of butterflies. 

I can feel it in your touch you just can't let it go.  You are holding on to the past lke a trophy of plated gold.  But can you remember when you were just a child, it was easy to forget the troubles of yesterday, leave them all behind and play the day away.  Just close your eyes and try,

for a child tells betterness goodbye like a net full of butterflies.

A great site for poets that blog Poets United 

To Know What Cherish Means,

One Shot Wednesday



I suppose the ocean learns it's longing from the shore that it must meet.
Yet, the soil feels it's constant touch from the roots below the trees.
And perhaps the dawn finds it from the horizon for which it always yearns.
Yet, the flame feels it's close quiver from the embers as they burn.
Maybe the eagle captures it's meaning from the need to reach the mountain and all it's charms.
Yet,for me I truly found it in one child within my arms.

Legacy

If we could live the life we wish our parents did,

maybe our children will!