the writers group. a poem.

like the uncertainty of an approaching storm

the staccato tap of fingers on keys

plays a scattered beat. I wonder

if that is the sound of

the soul

revealed like sign language,

the give

and take

battle of life

revelation.

Noise. A poem.

all the world’s

ablaze

tongues outstretched to taste

the vomit of

opinion

false and

rhetorical, voices

screeching with righteousness.

where are the still

small ones, sitting

cross cross applesauce 

not to be heard but

to hear

the only one whose 

Word matters,

calming like a clear smooth stream

saturating souls

waiting on

Him. only

then can we love. 

““Hear, O Israel: The LORD our God, the LORD is one! You shall love the LORD your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your strength. 

“And these words which I command you today shall be in your heart. You shall teach them diligently to your children, and shall talk of them when you sit in your house, when you walk by the way, when you lie down, and when you rise up.”

‭‭Deuteronomy‬ ‭6:4-7‬ ‭NKJV‬‬

summer walk. a poem.

i can breathe under

the green canopy, sweet

leaves releasing air

clean and deep.

hidden in the thick,

blooms peer timid

from their tangled rest.

wearing color on their sleeves

like a heart cry,

“Look and see and do not

pass me by!” The green

envy

shames it back into the shadow’s

embrace, the hope

of the wild ever present

if only to receive its

sting.

“I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world. John 16:33 (ESV)”