It was a dark and stormy night . . .

IMG_1962 - Copy

Not much rain here, but we got the cloud show.

IMG_1997 - Copy


IMG_1985 - Copy



Ah, Life is Poetry . . .

A p r o n h e a d -- Lilly

(This picture has absolutely nothing to do with the following verse!  It was zoomed from the parking lot at Costco, proving that Kirkland brands even have control of the weather!)

I love blank verse,

though saying something is probably preferred.

I have a passion for free verse,

but getting paid,

so much the better.

And since we’re talking about poetry:

Diamantés are a girl’s best friend.

(Another totally unrelated photograph below.  Of course, if you do find a connection, you could probably teach college English!)


View original post

Dance in the Dark

A p r o n h e a d -- Lilly

I dance in the dark. 

Inhibitions cast off,

I twirl and twirl, like a graceful ballerina, free in a broad expansive world. 

Walls disappear and the dark of my room rushesto blend with the testimony of the universe—spirit meshed with Spirit.

My arms hug tight and reach wide—

stretch inward and outward to embrace and be embraced. 

Move, Spirit, move.

Simple melodies carry my open-chested praise past the corners of the ceiling

to celestial halls unfettered by   atmosphere     and         stars           and                 space.

 Miraculous union—the soul’s yearnings unbounded—

unloosed in a moment of genuine worship,

fitted one with the other,

created with Creator.

Slow slow, fast fast, step step – mind and body joined in declaration of Your worth.

 My will lays down my right to rule.

 I  b  r  e  a  t  h  e  out surrender as the music plays.

When I sit in church, hands in front, fingers tap…

View original post 44 more words

May the Words


022 - Copy

Where are the days when I sowed into your life and you into mine? It meant so much

in that moment, but

is that harmony  lost to the multitude of noises in the universe—the ever present drone, earth to star. Or is the moment captured and catalogued somewhere in a file called

“Meaning”—memories of things that really mattered and were not lost to time and distance and division.

When you complain that I complain too much or criticize my being critical—

when you accuse me so harshly for not using words that are pure and edifying,

is it not just an ever-turning. never-ending circle, and

what we hate in others,

we hate in ourselves, and

what we judge in others is our own pernicious crime? But how does it stop?

If you stop judging me, and I stop voicing pain and discouragement, does it fade away?

Does it disappear just…

View original post 118 more words

WPC: Serene

IMG_0395 - Copy


Weekly Photo Challenge: Glow

IMG_6988 - Copy


Weekly Photo Challenge: Layered

IMG_6120 - Copy

. . . layered strands of evening.


Weekly Photo Challenge: Elemental

IMG_4276 - Copy


IMG_4307 - Copy


IMG_4443 - Copy


It’s so hot here . . .

IMG_4426 - Copy

. . . that the sky just melted into a big hole at the horizon!

IMG_4462 - Copy


My Book of Uncommon Prayers: There is a line . . .

IMG_2926 - Copy

There is a line in the sand, and I dare not cross—
but funny thing about sand and funny thing about lines,
they wash away with beating waves, leaving a skimming reflection where surety used to be. So maybe instead of lines in the sand, I should head into the surf and just ride out these waves.
But some days I feel more infidel than faithful.
When the press is great and rescue far off, help me not to fail
but to fall
into you.
Without You, I will sink in the undertow and be lost.
Are Your arms bigger than my sorrows, Your view wider than my narrow vision, Your heart tougher than my doctrine, Your compassion deeper than my loss, Your love hotter than my tears?
If there is a way that I must walk, can it be a yes-way, a water-walking way—a path of fullness and yeses.
So often I walk in these in-betweens, chained to an accumulated load that fills my soul with the hollow No.
Piercing doubt, filling, spilling. Knocked sideways. Sinking in the swells.
But I am ready for the Yes, Lord, not a way that seems right,
but is right.
No variance to the right or left, but straight-ahead trust
to joy, unspeakable peace, unbreatheable, that just is.
When the press is great and rescue far off, help me not to fail
but to fall
into you.