God blesses me with new life
through the gift of each new day;
it is up to me to acknowledge him
by faith and to choose to enjoy each
day with a sprint of thankful and
anticipation in my footsteps
as I travel along life’s
pathway.
Somewhere in this day is an unhurried
moment in which to sit beneath God’s
unwavering gaze;
and be showered by his love with
droplets of his mercy and never-ending
grace.
Somewhere in this day, God sits
patently and waits for me to
draw closer to his gracious throne;
where I can sit in quiet fellowship
with him alone in a restful, silent place.
Somewhere in this day as I
meander and journey along,
I will hear him in the quiet birdsong
underneath the wintry sunshine’s
glowing display.
I then realize he is gently reminding me
that he is much nearer than I think.
And he will reveal himself again
somewhere in this day.
At first, the sun ascended the winter sky.
the day then declared, banishing the dark;
the deep hours of persistent night.
At first, the new snow fallen sparkled
under the light of the shining sun
as if brilliant diamonds were
dispersed in the white frozen surface.
And soon a solitary hare and a squirrel
jumped and ran about on a
creation of ways that interweave
across the ice-crusted pale ground.
At first the oaks, the elm trees,
and the trees of maple,
removed bare of their clothes,
their perfumed autumn garments of resin,
stood resolute to guard this silent scene
where, in the end, there remains
a soft calmness across the ghostly drifts
of twinkled whiteness.
At first a search in the quiet mind:
the trip begins of the thoughtful one
where the heart leads the soul to a
place of relaxing peace.
Sun has risen, day
Quickly descends. Must rise: not
let it slip unseen.
On one cool and cloudy day
The usually vibrant sun refused to brightly shine.
As I journeyed along the way
The silver sky threatened to rain.
The usually vibrant sun refused to brightly shine
Although birds did chirp and sing.
The silver sky threatened to rain
As I walked along a quiet lane.
Although birds did chirp and sing
From lush and leafy treetops in the air
As I walked along a quiet lane
Where the grass reflected emerald flair.
From lush and leafy treetops in the air
To the green carpeted ground
Where the grass reflected emerald flair
Raindrops started to drizzle down.
To the green carpeted ground
As the birds hushed their singing
Raindrops started to drizzled down
I pivoted to return home again.
As the birds hushed their singing
While I journeyed along the way
I pivoted to return home again
On one cool and cloudy day.
I awoke early one dark morn
And waited for the sun to dawn.
I lay in bed a bit forlorn
Yet anxious to see the gloriously rising sun.
Darkness wrapped around me like a knitted shroud
As I rested as quietly as could be.
But lo! Only gray billowing clouds
Through the slatted window I could see.
Yet still a dim light did appear
Ushering the darkness away;
No more murky shadows to fear
As deep night transformed to day.
Therefore, with a lifted heart graced by hope
I began a new day’s journey upon life’s emerging slope.
Days are ever shorter
And gradually cooler;
As a later sun rise
Filters the morning sky.
Clusters of dangling leaves
Still adorned in shades of green
While clinging to their branching vines
Against the tide of passing time.
But then pause, look, and behold:
Vibrant splashes of yellow, orange, and gold.
And a leaf here and there
Silently lets go floating in the air.
The vaulting sky still illuminates radiant sunshine
As if determined to thwart the swiftly encroaching night.
Squirrels and other creatures too scurry to and fro
Gathering acorns and food before that first winter snow.
Days become ever cooler still
Until there is a blowing wintry chill
And all too soon all the once vivid leaves
Loosen their grasp in a blustery breeze
Fluttering downward, carpeting the ground;
Naturally accepting their time had come.
So quietly Autumn exits allowing Winter
To have its season amid this transitioning weather.
But even so with each new passing day,
I will choose to cherish this time that the Lord has made.
While studying about poetry, I learned about a new form of poem known as a pantoum. Such a poem can contain a number of stanzas with each stanza making up 4 lines. The rule is to repeat the lines and in doing so link the stanzas together into a continuing story. Repetitive phrases begin in the 2nd stanza as the second and fourth lines of the first stanza become the first and third lines of the next stanza. Follow that pattern with each new stanza until the last. In the last stanza the 2nd and 4th line of the previous refrain still become the 1st and 3rd lines in the final stanza and then also the 1st and 3rd lines of the very first stanza become the 4th and 2nd lines of the last stanza respectively. The poem is linked together in one narrative, or story, with the very first phrase of the poem becoming also the conclusion.
On a warm summer day
The lemon orbed sun had dawned
Stretching its transparent rays
To softly caress the ground.
The lemon orbed sun dawned
Waking the robins and chickadees to sing;
To softly caress the ground
While a twittering chorus does ring.
Waking the robins and chickadees to sing,
The sun continues to rise;
While a twittering chorus rings
Filling the endless prairie sky.
The sun continues to rise
Stretching its transparent rays;
Filling the endless prairie sky
On a warm summer day.
The Lord always leads
Me even though I don’t see
His hand holding me.
He does forever
Stay in my heart this moment.
This hour and all day.
Teaching and even
Guiding me in his love while
Sitting high above.
In heaven over
The clouds and the rain reaching
With his outstretched hand.
He holds on never
Letting go while I rest or
Walk this road alone.
Raining sunshine to
Brighten my way so I know
This day he has made.
One morning I awoke just before
The dawn’s gleaming light.
Darkness clung like a thorny blackberry
Briar and I thought, “Lo, it’s still night.”
Then eventually as daylight streamed
I glimpsed the grayish, cloud-filled sky;
How I so wished to see more sun
And watch the glowing orb journey and rise.
How I deeply yearned to be caressed by
Its’ stretching rays of warmth;
Like listening once again to the familiar
Sound of my mother’s soft spoken voice.
The gentleness of her laughter and to
Hear glad-laden words from her lips depart
Would undoubtedly uplift my downturned
Spirit and quicken my beating heart.
How long ago memories do so
Gently prick and needle me
As I rest and remember how
My childhood life used to be.
But lo, I realized with a sudden start
As a new thought occurred and
Did quicken my heart.
The Lord has blessed me with
Another sunshine-filled new day
To cherish it thankfully
And grasp joy along the way.
So, as I gaze upon the dawn’s
Early gleaming light.
I’ll arise, embark on a journey
Letting the Lord be my friend and guide.
Finding God's Grace in a Lemon-filled World
Prose | Poetry | Fiction | Editing
Writing - Loving What I Do and Doing What I Love!
Warning: A feminist writes here. Content may contain angry, vulgar, and sometimes funny language.
Colleen M. Chesebro: Prose-Metrist of the West, Novelist, & Word Witch
I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. Gal. 2:20
thoughts from my mind to yours
A little bit of this and that
THE WOMAN WITH WHEELS
Thoughts from the Heartland
the joy of creativity
The details of my Journey.
Inspiration through my thoughts, experiences and travels
All information not in hand belongs on a bookshelf
~ Communicator, WordSmith, Artist, Guide, Mentor, Muse ~
I write because I read. I read because I write.
Christian poetry and prose, quotes, and thoughts - if they glorify God they were worth writing; if they mean something to one other person, they were worth sharing. Comments always welcome!
Reading fiction with a focus on craft
Finding God's Grace in a Lemon-filled World
Prose | Poetry | Fiction | Editing
Writing - Loving What I Do and Doing What I Love!
Warning: A feminist writes here. Content may contain angry, vulgar, and sometimes funny language.
Colleen M. Chesebro: Prose-Metrist of the West, Novelist, & Word Witch
I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. Gal. 2:20
thoughts from my mind to yours
A little bit of this and that
THE WOMAN WITH WHEELS
Thoughts from the Heartland
the joy of creativity
The details of my Journey.
Inspiration through my thoughts, experiences and travels
All information not in hand belongs on a bookshelf
~ Communicator, WordSmith, Artist, Guide, Mentor, Muse ~
I write because I read. I read because I write.
Christian poetry and prose, quotes, and thoughts - if they glorify God they were worth writing; if they mean something to one other person, they were worth sharing. Comments always welcome!
Reading fiction with a focus on craft
