Ellipses Eclipse

Three dots aligned

and gave us pause.

A midday Selah

strung our wonder

along a celestial seam.

Intelligent design

bill-boarded,

nearly blinded us,

our naked eyes

clothed.

Once again

the heavens

declared the Glory

of God.

 

Psalm 19

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Day to Day Utters Speach

Into the stillness I spoke,

pushing words through the deck rails

and out into the field

to comb the tall grass.

Psalms twined with poems

were cast like seed

for the wrens and swallows.

 

I wonder what God thought

when His words were sent

like a dove to the formless void.

How did the Voice travel

this far, through the deck rails

to me?

 

Psalm 19

Brow Of Eternity

Raised eye brows
white on pale blue
without a wink.

We, underneath
pray silent
and under stands

of trees welcome
shade as well
as the light.

Hold the swallow
wings in the curve
of today

and sing praise
of the endless sky
to the Thou of I.

“Hallelujah! Praise God in his holy house of worship, praise him under the open skies…” Psalm 150 The Message

Open

It choked me.

 

My mother told me close my mouth.

Dennis’ father used to sit in the corner,

legs crossed, reading the Gazette

with his lower lip dangling and pudgy.

Old people gape at nothing.

Maybe nothing is gape worthy

when white flurries crown them.

 

The snowflake melted down into me.

 

Wish Upon a Stare. Stars and perspective.

Have you ever stared at a star, not for its brilliance or beauty, but because you thought it might not be a star? You get an inkling it might be moving. It is set so far off in the expanse that you can’t tell if it is twinkling or blinking. You star stare not to wish on it but to confirm or deny it.

Does your mind wander off into deep space? Do you imagine each light as if it were strung around an infinite Christmas tree? Do you wait for God to throw shooting stars like tinsel?

Does the thought of a universe with no walls or ceiling scare you like when you were a child looking up and out? How does a ten year old brain contain the idea of never-ending? How do I now? I was scared then.

Do you wonder how many other cooled off orbs circle each gravity rich light? How many planets orbit our puny system? How many more systems are out there circling the lights?

Do you think there are way more than a thousand points of light? If each of your 100 billion brain cells were assigned to a star you wouldn’t have enough. Imagine if each star was a brain cell and we were only synapses in the mind of God.

Your staring stops as you find the bright light blinking as it gains size. The plane is probably heading for Detroit. You turn and walk in the house.

Psalm 139:17,18

Psalm 8:3

 

Salt and Light: Savor the Flavor.

Starry Night by Vincent van Gogh

Who threw the salt into center night?

Deep space thoughts sprinkled

and preserved.

The flavor of infinity dashed

between light years

and a dark night.

The staring, my taste buds,

the stars, raise my blood pressure.

 

 

“When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers,

the moon and the stars, which you have set in place,

what is man that you are mindful of him,

and the son of man that you care for him?”

Psalm 8:3,4

Day Broke Me Open

They passed by.

The waves of storms rolled toward sunrise.

To the west a rainbow was pierced

with a serrated knife of electricity.

To the east tufts of clouds

like pale pink umbrellas hung.

 

Intervals of solid rain tucked me

under the soffit to read.

Ann wrote about the pursuit of beauty

and there I was under it, in it.

 

Praise had come as rain.

Praise left my mouth.

Praise was sent to find the source of beauty.

 

My most significant Other read to me poetry.

I heard His inflections and cadence.

Oh my God, I am undone,

yet what better place to be unraveled

than under an umbrella with You.

 

“Doubt the philosophies, doubt the prophecies, doubt the Pharisees (especially the ones seen in mirrors), but Who can doubt this, Beauty? Beauty requires no justification, no explanation; it simply is and transcends. See beauty and we know it  in the marrow, even if we have no words for it: Someone is behind it, in it. Beauty Himself completes.” Ann Voskamp, One Thousand Gifts