Oh Lord, how great your arms
Surround the pieces
Lying round.
Oh Lord, come gather me
To Your mercy
Where praise breaks free.
Oh Lord, clear my vision
That sight be in line
And Your light
Efface these things
I call my own.
Oh carry me home.
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
Slip off your shoes,
before the dew
distills the
spirit of this day.
Stroll the field
for evidence
between your toes,
wet blades sewing.
Cup your ears,
to hear the sun
paint the top
of the sycamore.
Praise with the white
of your teeth,
head bowed
to the forest floor.
Find breath in your bones,
marrow reaching,
flowing to the sea,
to the sea.
Beauty just is.
and is
and is.
I am thankful for eyes with which to see.
How many have written of a sunrise?
The darkness peeled slowly like an orange.
The thumb of God pushed up the dimmer switch.
The light swept the horizon and overflowed its banks.
Silhouettes shed layer after layer.
Shadows stretched, yawned, and shrunk.
It dawned on me.
This day, I will stand in the light.
I will walk in the light.
No sense in tripping over shadows.
“Jesus once again addressed them: ‘I am the world’s Light. No one who follows me stumbles around in the darkness. I provide plenty of light to live in.'” John 8:12 The Message
Gerald the Writer 