Visiting My Muse in the Country
A collection of poems about nature and the rural life
Copyright © 2024 by Kelvin Bueckert All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination.
Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
Kelvin Bueckert asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
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4 The Nativity and the Modern Man
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44 Growth is Seen in the Blooming
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51 Strength (Through Weakness)
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58 In Search of a Perfect Circle
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1
Iceworld
Winter is a river
streaming over the land
driven by the breeze
of relentless desire
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VISITING MY MUSE IN THE COUNTRY
for summer
yet, the earth is a shiver
cold to even the thought of love
winter is a white sea
stretching out before me
trembling in the throes of January
a frozen promise
waiting to be kept
a lonely soul
waiting to be embraced by the warmth of the sun yes, the world is underwater
trapped under the ice of its fearful imagination but so many are waiting
praying
for a chance to begin again
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Winter Road
Photo by Egor Kamelev on Pexels.com
A cold breath
whispers over a pair of hands
slowly growing blue
clutching a parka of promises
that seem to do nothing to keep them warm
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VISITING MY MUSE IN THE COUNTRY
is grace is still there
in the flurry of snow
spinning around a head overcome
with the season
is warmth just a memory
is love only a wonder forever waiting
to be seen
can beauty can still be found
on the other side of the manic wind
that whips the road
I stumble on
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3
Beauty Falling
Even as the air shivers with cold
there is beauty reflected in the light
of the snow falling
tumbling to the ground
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VISITING MY MUSE IN THE COUNTRY
even as I am remembering the blackness of pain there is a colour sparkling
around the edges of the window
I use to look at the world
even though the past is frozen in time
there is hope in your embrace
the promise of grace
that promise of spring
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The Nativity and the Modern Man
Photo by Burkay Canatar on Pexels.com
It wasn’t because there was peace
that he was promised
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it wasn’t because there was hope
that he was born
it wasn’t because we know how to love
but because we don’t
that he came
…way back then
what does it all mean
do we still need peace on earth
and goodwill to all
have we learned how to love our neighbor
as we love ourselves
what about the rich man
who was told to sell all they had
and give it to the poor
…way back then
has the human race learned anything
in the years since he came
do we still need him
or is everything going fine
is it enough to remember the child
or should we consider what he said
when he grew up to be a bit wild
in what he preached
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Hiking Through January
Photo by Egor Kamelev on Pexels.com
Water falls
dancing in circles
tumbling in the cold
water is maturing
changing form
and a sparkling molecule is slowly born
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a snowflake like a feather
floating on the sea
settling on the shore
a small wisp of wonder
in the Arctic air
flowing around my face
like a river
flooding the frozen land
where I wander
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Safe Inside
Photo by Alissa Nabiullina on Pexels.com
Winter swirls around the window
like a whirlpool sucking me under
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as I lose myself in the reflection
of the glass
and I give thanks for the shelter
that comes from having found a place of peace
winter puckers up
and blows a kiss to my cheek
as a draft worms through a crack
in the frame
and I give thanks for the warmth
that saves me from bitter temptation
winter turns to growls and rages
trying to summon up
the doubts
and fears that linger in the frost
still, I give thanks for the salvation
that offers a blessed rest
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As Seasons Turn
In the season of ice and suspicion
that curse our winter of conflict
it is easy to wonder about the hope
that the prophets used to proclaim
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the gospel of a new life that we could grasp
if only we would turn
away from the storm of cold that we say we love is redemption real
can we invite it in
is it only a figment of our imagination
when the blizzard of bitterness
is replaced by the peace of summer
will we see it
when a life is caressed by the sun
after a January of rage
will we feel it
when the spirit wind blows away the old season to replace it with the songs of salvation
will our lives show any evidence of change
like a park reveals
what was seeded there in spring
what will our lives unveil
as we grow
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8
Forgotten Beauty
Photo by Quang Nguyen Vinh on Pexels.com
In our obsession with the wrong
at least the wrong we find in others
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have we forgotten the beauty only found beyond ourselves in our single-minded focus on the trivial
because we can control the small things (or so we think) have we ignored the majesty of a universe we have never tamed (and never will)
in our obsession with safety
have we forsaken the thrill of adventure
that can only be found by leaving behind our pride the birds of spring fly free
in a world of danger but they still sing
the song of their maker
the flower garden may be covered by manure
but seeds buried in filth still blossom
in the warm light of summer
a cloud of butterflies
flutter between the pods of nectar
that provide the energy they need to live
it seems that there is a flow of life in nature at least in the nature beyond our grasping fingers while I write this
the television still mutters
in the corner
babbling something about meetings
regulations and how more of this is a sure sign of progress but somehow the natural world functions
without all this
the rivers continue to flow with a vision
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of a greater sea
the woods chatter with stories of living in freedom and animals making the most of the limited time they are given
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Insiders/Outsiders
Photo by Jill Wellington on Pexels.com
While the in crowd
congratulated itself
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for the achievement of being in
the same dark room as others who think the same others realized that you can
only smell the flowers
by going outside
into the light of the dawn
while the in-crowd
shut down anyone
who dared to speak of anything other
than the room they don’t want to leave
the outsiders realized that the only thing worse than hearing an idea that you don’t like
is continuing to love a wrong idea
after a glimpse of the garden
just outside the window
tempted them to experience the forbidden
caress of spirit wind
that replaces the stench of winter
with the fresh scent of spring
they decided to move on
from the box
that the in-crowd
boxed themselves in
the outsiders embraced life
and the honest conversations in the sun
that come as seasons turn
away from what they have always known
and perhaps this is why
the in crowd hates them
even though the in crowd could experience the same thing if they were willing to move from indoor
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to outdoor thinking
some people just don’t want to move on
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An Artist in Spring
Photo by Aaron Burden on Pexels.com
Surrender is painful
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but accepting the truth will set us free
and in surrender we see our pain become beautiful lessons of strength that we have learned
as we leave our old ways behind
rediscovering the spring of innocence that we once knew and loved
before the world taught us to fall in love with winter and never to question
the cold
before we started looking beyond what the eye can see to something greater
and we realized that faith is the essence of things unseen that if we surrender the frozen landscape
where the world sends imagination out to die
we haven’t lost anything
yes, these were the truths that set us walking we may be walking slowly
but at least we are walking away
from an ice world
and every step toward summer is progress
every act of creativity is scandalous
to people who prefer the freezing winds of ignorance but when we use our talents in service of the truth we are fulfilling the mandate that God gave us to teach the ways of spring
to everyone who has yet to see the sun
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A Creative Air
Photo by Stijn Dijkstra on Pexels.com
Thinking is easier
in the air of freedom
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flowing freely through
the fresh green grass of spring
creating comes naturally
after leaving the winter
of simplicity
to bathe in the light of wisdom
that washes away the drought
that is the fruit of foolish thought
breathing
is part of growing
struggle
is part of growing stronger
and the birds singing in
a change of season
at the edge of a pond
caressed by the colors of dawn
show us the benefits
of painting something beautiful
onto the canvas of where we live
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Writing
Photo by Dids on Pexels.com
We have all been given
a book and a pen
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and every day we work to fill it
those pages of our life
we have all been given
a talent to use
and every day we decide whether to use it
to try and destroy
or to build the kingdom of heaven
we have all been given something
what are we writing
as the pages are turning
and our years are passing
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Planting
Photo by Flora Westbrook on Pexels.com
Where the soil is barren and loveless
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that is where we must plant
where the dirt is void of color and hope
that is where we need to place our seeds
spring is the season where faith is seen
as we are planting without knowing what will remain in the fall
but we do the work of planting just the same
like words walking into a hopeless situation
lift a head full of depression
we know that seeds sprout when fertilized by the sun and grow with the tender embrace of rain
but before the field bursts into bloom
comes the work of tilling the soil
and caring for the tender sprouts trying to survive without knowing what is come
our assignment is only to do what we are able
really, what else can we do
but trust that God
will summon a great harvest
from our feeble effort
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The Garden of Truth
Photo by Rene Asmussen on Pexels.com
We can fill our heads with knowledge
but our hearts still feel the ache of emptiness 29
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that haunts
where nothing grows
we can say all the words that win the approval of the crowd but in reality, we have no idea how to walk with someone through their pain
and so we find ourselves sitting alone
surrounded by a hedge of dollar-store flowers
we can wear a suit that looks good behind a pulpit but we can’t fit our feet into the humble shoes that Jesus wore and the naked truth is that we aren’t fully dressed exposed in a plastic garden of our creation
entangled with artificial colors that look like they are living but pale in comparison to plants that are growing powered by the Spirit and the sun
and if we were to face the truth about our haven we have created a vineyard with an appearance of life but without the scent of divine breath
or the fruit that can only come from branches
that are attached to the main vine
the rows of grapes
that can only grow from water living within
drawn from roots
drinking from a deeper spring
and if we are honest we know there is something that we can’t create
through our effort
and we are craving something real
something beyond words saying how good we feel even as we wrestle with the consequences of creating our world
where nothing is allowed
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except what we can understand
and what we can control
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Releasing
Photo by Brett Jordan on Pexels.com
We won’t grow
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if what we really love
is the warmth
of the dirt where we are buried
we can’t reach toward the sun
if we won’t let go of the darkness
where we want to hide
those walls that keep us safe inside
we can’t flourish like a well-watered garden
in the garden of the king
if we refuse to drink in the rain
that will end the drought where we are living
we can’t climb higher
like vines on a trellis
if we aren’t rooted
in the source of life
the only truth that can power us
we can’t bear fruit
if we would rather
fit in with the trees that can’t even be bothered to bud the trees that are barren for a summer
and destined for pruning
***
sometimes in the losingin the letting go
some trees will find the courage to grow
sometimes after the pain
that comes with removing
the remaining branches are filled with the brightest apples which is why the gardener didn’t stop cutting
despite all the things we were praying
in our longing to stay the same
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as we always were
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Grace Chases After You
Maybe the world you knew
is burning
with the wisdom of fools
and all that you’ve done
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with that can of gasoline
maybe you wondering what to do
running
from the mistakes that you chose
the flames of emotion that created ashes and ruin where you once had a colorful party scene
and even as you are running
on the beach of the lonely
your lover is calling
the lover of your soul is chasing
pounding on your world-weary heart
even as your feet are racing
flowing
along the barren sand
driven by the guilt of what you’ve done
you can’t help but wonder
what would happen if I would turn
what would happen if I gave in
to the grace, I could have
what if I would embrace the love
my gentle pursuer wants to give
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Beauty Can’t Be Forced
Force can make even good things ugly
pushing love on someone who has no desire to be loved is far from the Holy
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throwing yourself at someone
uncaring
is like throwing a pearl into a pig pen
to be trampled by lust
but love blossoming naturally
under the playful action of the sun
encouraged by healing words like rain
is a thing of beauty
a flower without shame
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A Storm of Dust
Photo by Huebert World on Pexels.com
Dust is billowing up in clouds
darkening the land
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where life used to green
the fields
dust flows
in the currents of the wind
twisting and tangled in hair
attacking
and fighting its way into the skin
of our being
dust is what we are
even if many great things are said
and wars are fought in their honor
even if the wisest teachers in the world
say that dirt will never pollute their perfection after the storm of words
passes
and it always
passes more quickly
then an expert thought
and the dust that remains
settles to a tiny piece of ground
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Diary Photos
My mind is turning pages
sifting through the fragments
that remain
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of what was done
my fingers are caressing memories
my collection of moments
written into the book of time
my attention turns to all the pages that remain how can I build on the foundation that was laid how can I build something worth looking back on how can I live a story worth writing down
somewhere in the room, a clock is clicking
these questions echo in sync with the sound
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To an Old Friend
Photo by Dziana Hasanbekava on Pexels.com
We had our share of laughs
and frustration back then
even as we discussed the way of life
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you were wavering between hell and heaven
we lost touch for a while
but we found each other later
and you told me of how your father beat you
and your wife had fallen to the scythe of cancer how were we to know it would soon be your turn for dangerous weather
as the pain came hunting
you wanted to surrender
screaming at the sky raining tears
for you there seemed to be only one answer
how could you have forgotten our discussion
about the life we could have now
and forever after
you made a decision then
driven by the whispers of depression
and today those of us who remain are left to wonder where are you
in hell or heaven
if only you had stayed with us
if only we could have had one more conversation would you still have done what you did
and done what you have done
*In Memory of D…
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Drought
The dirt is parched
dust blowing with the wind
to cloud a darkening sky
already filled with the smoke of tragedy
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my lips are chapped
fragile flesh craving the touch of living water longing to drink in a truth to make life worth living a higher purpose to give life meaning
can I be refreshed
will my desert bloom again
creating a garden to pray
words of thanksgiving for the salvation I have yet to see as my skin continues to be whipped
as my tongue tingles with desire
I am standing alone in a desert blowing
I am waiting
scanning the dirty sky for a sign of rain
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A Life of Stages
Photo by Jeswin Thomas on Pexels.com
First comes rehearsal
learning how to talk
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and walk on the stage we are given
then we come to the performance
finding problems
conflict and ultimate resolution
finally, we retire to the after-party
where we reflect on what we’ve done
all the things we’ve grown through
as time moves on
conversation winds down
and the cast begins to leave
for a moment
one or another may look back
on the stage that carried the weight of their feet but in the end, everyone will the room
and the next production will come in
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Question Marks
Photo by Julia Filirovska on Pexels.com
Where did we come from
did we exist
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before the world was born
and the dirt
felt the first kiss of the sun
these are the question marks
that we scratch
onto the walls of our lives
who are we
do we have any more value
than the earth we are standing on
are we, fatherless souls
looking for someone to call us son
these are the question marks
that we scribble onto scrap paper
and then toss the trash into the corners of our minds where we hope that no one will see what we’ve written even though everyone is asking themselves the same things what is the purpose of our lives
where are we going when the sand
in our hourglass reaches an end
are questions the only thing we will leave behind or do we believe that the truth is out there
for us to find
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Small Town Diary 1
Gladstone…Happy Rock…get it?
I was thinking about what to write about and I thought, why not try writing about my home town?
Gladstone is a small town of about 1,000 people in Manitoba, 51
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Canada. Agriculture, the school system, and a nearby hog processing plant are the major employers in the area. Once the town was very “white” in culture but in recent years the nearby hog plant has been importing many workers from Asia, which has been changing the racial mix of the community.
Some residents welcome this immigration…some don’t. Still, despite the doubts of some, immigration continues which means the town will likely look a lot different in a few years.
Some have said that the town is dying and others have said the town is past hope. However, the new immigrants see new opportunities here.
Which opinion will be proven right remains to be seen.
Gladstone’s main claim to fame is the giant Happy Rock outside of town, waving to travelers as they pass by on the
#16 highway. This landmark has gained a surprising amount of attention. There have been features in various publications about landmarks, a happy rock postage stamp, and even a song has been written about it.
However, all is not well with the Happy Rock. Engineering reports have come back outlining extensive damage inside the structure of the statue. Even though “Happy” still appears cheerful on the outside, all is not well inside.
Oddly, this also seems to be reflected in the culture. At the moment, there is a drought in the area and the crops in the area are not looking good. Some of our public places have been shut down for months due to government COVID regulations and are struggling to stay afloat. Recently, the husband of a high-profile resident committed suicide, an act which sent shock waves through the community at large and he was not the first.
Many people are unhappy, under stress, and somewhat skep-tical of the future.
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Still, there is a devoted segment of the population who are working to try to build morale and community. The families affected by suicide have been receiving an inspiring amount of support. Some things are finally being allowed to open up by our provincial government, small events are being discussed, a plan to fix the happy rock is in the works…and we are all hoping and praying for rain.
I guess we’ll see what happens next.
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Staring at the Ground
A mirror lies on the earth
shattered by the baseball bat
and all the blows of the past
and this
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all this changes how you see yourself
in the glass
that only shows ruins
and wasted opportunities
that passed before this
this very moment
could the next one be different
could the tender blossom that fell
among the mess of jagged shards
be a sign of what you could become
after this moment of decision
the weight of this trembling second
on your mind of depression
while you decide whether to cling to all that is broken or to reach for the beauty that could be
the wind ruffles your hair
as you stand in a field alone
wavering
there are only two ways
to choose between
and the summer sun is far overhead…waiting
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Under a Blue Sky
Photo by Fillipe Gomes on Pexels.com
If my eyes are focused on the darkness
will I ever see the light
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above me
if my head is swimming in the trivial
will I ever find room for truth
inside me
if my heart is full of fear
will I ever find the courage to love
those around me
is there any value in the hope
that turns my eyes toward heaven
is there any silver in the truth
that can change my life
is there any gold in the love
that gives me the faith to live
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Look Up (Redemption)
Photo by Shafi_fotumcatcher on Pexels.com
The world still has beauty for those with the eyes to see the darkness is only a canvas for the light to paint its power 58
we still have the opportunity
every moment we are given can still be invested for eternity we may feel like a failure for what we’ve done but it is amazing how the broken can be mended in the hands of a potter
the change that can come when the created embraces the love of the creator
in the eyes of God
even a sparrow has a special place in nature
if you feel worthless
surrounded and hopeless
take heart
maybe when you open your eyes
and look higher than yourself
you will see things far greater
then you have so far
maybe what was taken from your hands
was only to give you the freedom to grasp something better maybe the opportunity to receive grace
is a reason to have hope for tomorrow
and forever
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Freedomsong
Photo by Tara Winstead on Pexels.com
When the world
weighs upon the mind
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it is hard to dream of anything higher
When claws
grip the bitter grubs of earth
it is hard for a bird to claw toward the sky
When eyes are raised toward heaven
it is easier for wings to catch the spirit wind and flap away from the sin-cursed ground
In times of soaring
it is hard to be nostalgic for the safety of dirt that prevented the possibility of pain
but also prevented the miracle of flight
and the song of freedom
that is only released in flying
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A Change in Perspective
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com
Maybe that closed door was what you needed to prompt you to walk down the hall
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maybe their rejection was what set you free to be the person you need to be
maybe leaving was what had to be done for you to start living maybe the pain is how you will learn to grow
maybe your weakness is exactly where God will do his greatest work
maybe in the ashes of your shame is where you will build again maybe out of the fertile ground of trouble will spring a garden beautiful
maybe out of the darkest black will rise the most welcome dawn
when everything is clouded with uncertainty
realize that faith is trusting even when you can’t see in your time of questions
don’t stop listening for the answer
how do you know that the sky isn’t about to start breaking open
a day of revelation for the broken
***
is the problem your main problem or are part of your problems the way you are looking at them?63
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The Bird in Flight
Photo by Flo Maderebner on Pexels.com
Faith is seen in the bird in flight
trusting in the air it cannot see
carried on currents it does not understand
soaring as if lifted by an unseen hand
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diving
and then turning
falling
and then rising
against a blue canvas of heaven
the bird demonstrates freedom
from the futility of earthbound thinking
in that carefree way it is living
in the courage to fly
from the comfort of safety
the gravity that destroys the will
the hunger for something more
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And Out of Truth
Photo by Akil Mazumder on Pexels.com
In the barren soil of deception
love struggles to grow
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into more than a wilting
ragweed under the gaze of the sun
but where true love flowers
there is a free-flowing river of truth
that fuels the blossoms
of real life
the fruit that comes from realizing
that honesty in conversation
is better than a garden of plants
that are dying without water
the reward of honesty
is the pain of growing
but the pain of growing
is still better than the pain
of staying the same
in the immature dreams
of constant thirsting…
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Bold Yellows
Photo by Darcy Lawrey on Pexels.com
There is safety in being imprisoned
under the soil
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but there is freedom
in growing toward the sun
the dirt is a blanket of warmth
but the cold rain
will fertilize the leaves willing to receive
a blessing of Truth
some say it is better if we are all the same
bland and buried under black
but every soul is unique
and the colors of life
in our tangled garden of earth
are easier on the eyes
then the emptiness of a field
devoted to death
all those seeds that refuse to grow
all those flowers that can’t be bothered to bloom in the world, they were created to bless
all the things forgotten in the shade of yellow petals of a plant unafraid to show the world what they were created to be
a plant bold enough to stand out
in a bed of dirt where others are content to sleep 69
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The Freedom of Maturity
Photo by Jackson David on Pexels.com
After the years have taken their toll
the realization comes
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that freedom is there
in everything, I let go
my eyes are filled with the sight of trees swaying the resentment
the bitterness
the little sins that can destroy a soul
the wind sends shivers over the water
at my feet
there is no more need to censor
or to control those I don’t agree with
with maturity comes a certain security
if I rest in the truth
should I live in fear of a lie
if the truth is reality
it won’t be changed
or stopped by pretending
that reality is only what someone imagines it to be some people will never change
it is said that some people didn’t even listen to Jesus we can say what we say
and we should
but freedom comes
with letting go
of people who would rather not stay
the wind continues to run
through the trees of our years
and what is the point of wasting
our lives fighting
over things that are crumbling
into dust
in a forgotten forest
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The Bird on a High Wire
Photo by Billel Moula on Pexels.com
As a mountain towers over a drought-cursed plain so is peace of mind greater than a life of constant fear as an ocean dwarfs a backyard puddle after a violent rain so is quiet wisdom greater than the loud bellows of folly 72
as a sky stretches into the vast unknown
is greater than any grand scheme of humans
so is humility greater than the empty boasts of arrogance as a miser with a house full of everything
still searches for something more
to tame the turmoil that comes with a life of emptiness a common sparrow sits
confident in the love of the Creator
and what is better than this
simple faith to rest
on a high-wire
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Chasing the Wind
Photo by Mayu on Pexels.com
Once my sky was a chaos of clouds
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those wisps of dreams I was chasing
always reaching
trying to go higher
trying to reach the sun
even as I was being beaten
and tossed with doubts
and the relentless wind
the unforgiving storm
those gusts of time
I was trying to hold
even as they were running through my hand
until I learned the art of releasing
the song of letting go
and there came a certain lull
a blessed calm
that comes with standing on solid ground
a wise man once said that the only thing better than being lost is being found
and there is a rest that comes with knowing that where you are
isn’t where you’ve been
to be honest, I don’t miss the chasing
I don’t miss swimming through that turmoil of clouds flapping my way toward a horizon of wind
that I can never hold
those false promises
that should’ve never been said
and I should’ve never pursued
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36
What Will Last?
Photo by David Bartus on Pexels.com
Every moment is like a golden coin
76
pulled from a bag dangling around the waist
of the rich
and every talent is like a piece of silver
piled in the vault
of the wealthy
some say that it is safer to do nothing
and hold on to what we already have
but nothing is all that comes from nothing in the end some say to bet it all on a feeling
and those who listen to them
are left with what they threw up in the alley behind a club other experts say that it is better to invest in conflict and those who charge into battle
surrender everything to those who told them to fight a closer look at the contract
that everyone is given
with the miracle of birth
reveals the truth
that the treasure of earth can only be used on earth but the treasure of earth can earn dividends in heaven this raises the questions
what has all that gold and silver been invested in has it been tied up in things that will rust
and fade with the corrosion of time
will anything remain in the world to come
77
37
At Rest
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com
So what about the wandering
78
they said as they asked for the full story
but is there anything more comforting
than just knowing that I am at home
in a grassy bed
serenaded by a summer song
as a cloud plays tag
with a hummingbird
tell us about the false prophet
they said, looking for a lurid sensation
but who wants to remember him
if Jesus is real who wants to talk about a cheap imitation tell us about all the rich and powerful you used to know they said, looking for an exclusive in
but who is richer, the poor man content with what he has or the rich man who still wants more
when you find yourself where you are supposed to be why would anyone want to look back on a life spent running from the love
that has formed this little piece of creation
where I am lying
resting in faith on the promises
I have been given
a bee is buzzing over my eyes
humming toward the forest
a bird is flapping
circling down toward a nest
and this is the sound of peace
there is nothing about the city of self-destruction that I miss
or would like to discuss
79
38
Small Town Diary 2
Photo by Sourav Mishra on Pexels.com
80
It is true. The town has faced problems and is facing problems.
Serious problems. Drought, political conflict, community division, and so on. However, despite the devastation to morale that the COVID restrictions have brought, some people summoned the will to put on a fair.
It wasn’t a big fair. It was two parades, food, and an evening of socially distanced country music in the park.
I did something new and drove a barrel train in the parade for the local museum. I don’t know if I was appreciated but the sight of my nieces and nephew waving from the train cars certainly was enjoyed by the people who came out to watch.
After all the stress of the past months, it seemed that there was a good atmosphere in the air at last. People were smiling, milling about, enjoying the outdoors and each other’s company.
It would have been easy to get the impression that things were normal.
A few days later we even had an all-day rain. The sound of gentle drumming on the roof was something we hadn’t heard for some time.
The river was refilled and the grass is starting to grow again.
My acting group is regrouping and planning a show for the first time in a long time.
Is this a sign of better days to come?
We all hope so but I suppose we shall see what the future brings.
81
39
A Strange Sort of Love
Photo by Tara Winstead on Pexels.com
It was said that blood was the price to pay for what I’ve done living at the bottom
82
and blood was there in the life you gave
so that I could crawl from the desolation
at the foot of your cross
and the punishment you took
so that I could be free
it is said that the road to heaven
runs through the valley of suffering
and it is there that we find ourselves
reaching
as one hand toward the other
as the sky stretches toward the earth
you were broken
and yet forgiving
I was the one with the blood-stained hammer
who needed your grace
and how strange it is
that what should have ended in judgment
you thought was the perfect opportunity to show me love and how strange it is
that this radical grace
was a stick in the spokes of karma
and what should have been the end
is where you said we could begin again
if I wanted
83
40
Reality is a Harbor
Photo by Kittichai Chumanee on Pexels.com
On the edge of the trembling horizon
waiting for something
84
in the gathering black
feeling the growling hollow
inside
that fuels the hurricane of rage
the posturing of good
we used to hide from the pain
that lurks behind our perfect profile picture
but deception can’t help us find the peaceful waters of truth bitterness can’t exorcise the demons from our mind and the pleasure found in the pornography of abusing women can never teach us how to have a relationship of mutual respect
let it all go
the false image of perfection
that binds us to the mast
pull it all in
the truth that brings us pain
but sets us free from the hopeless teachings we’ve been tied to
that releases us to search for meaning
the eternal purpose we’ve been longing for
that our futile imagination has been distracting us from life is shorter than we think
don’t give it to someone who doesn’t care
about anything more than what you can give them (love is given, not taken by force)
look higher
beyond the sea-sick world
85
VISITING MY MUSE IN THE COUNTRY
pray for reality
to manifest in the waves of delusion
grasp the lover of your soul
and tame the wild sea within
a ship that has found harbor
is better than a vessel slowly sinking
86
41
Untied
Photo by eberhard grossgasteiger on Pexels.com
Fingers are wriggling
working against the strings
87
VISITING MY MUSE IN THE COUNTRY
that hold our hands from doing good
hands are ripping
tearing away the red tape
that hinder our breathing
our speaking
thumbs are unraveling
the strings that bind our feet
and the blindfold of lies that prevent us from seeing where we are
ropes are falling as we are rising
and walking on our own
without the protection of our jailers
doors are opening
as we leave behind the safety
we had as prisoners
and begin thinking of greater things
than walls
in God’s country
we see the endless prairie
whispering of all that could be
the beauty they said would oppress us
has only made our lives worth living
we can even find flashes of grace
in a storm-tossed sky
that we were told was dangerous
but whose clouds release the very waters of heaven that now wash over us
and away the stench of our former life
that we will never miss
88
42
In Front of the Camera
Back in the spotlight
forgotten in the darkness of restrictions
theater is familiar
89
VISITING MY MUSE IN THE COUNTRY
like an old friend
we get tired of
but who knows us too well for us to let go
and when the camera is there
the lines we’ve learned
or haven’t
are obvious to all
and when casual fans turn off the TV
we are only left with the friends
who see us as we are
not the character we were pretending to be
reality is a mess of failure and mistakes
and the occasional good idea
that is more of a happy accident
than a work of genius
the poster can be airbrushed
and makeup can hide the scars
and management can sell the show
but is God more interested in who we are
than who we are pretending to be
we can have a good act going
but who are we really
90
43
Sailing Over Night
Photo by Marek Piwnicki on Pexels.com
Faith is drowning in distraction
your doubtful eyes
focus only on what they can see
and overlook the hints of light
91
VISITING MY MUSE IN THE COUNTRY
that give away the secret
of a morning about to rise
as the wild horses of wind are dragging us over the water and the night
hope is sinking in a sea of despondency
my broken heart beats
out the rhythm of memories
trying to overpower the melody of a future
about to come
even as we pass that old lighthouse
pointing to a place long forgotten
love
the harbor we used to dock in
is that where you are sailing
is that really where my boat is turning
I believe
yes
I believe
the clouds are changing
into the clothes of dawn
92
44
Growth is Seen in the Blooming
Rain is a gift
that could be used to grow
or as a reason to hide
pain is driven to us
93
VISITING MY MUSE IN THE COUNTRY
on the river of time
and we could use it for bitterness
or as an opportunity to learn
a flood can rise from the Nile
and we have the option to curse the destruction or bloom in the fields the waters made fertile 94
45
Secured (Port)
Photo by Leigh Patrick on Pexels.com
Reality is there
in the rope-winding
95
VISITING MY MUSE IN THE COUNTRY
around the truth
unchanging
and I am secured
in this port
of your promises
even as the waters of the bay
shiver with the bitterness of the season
I am kept warm
in the yellow light of your cabin
even as the wind whistles on
96
46
Going Through It
Photo by Magda Ehlers on Pexels.com
The weights press us
to the bench
97
VISITING MY MUSE IN THE COUNTRY
but the weights we lift
only make us stronger
and after
as the lighting flashes
our house goes black
but the black
only makes the light easier to see
and later
as the rain drums against the safety of our home and the storm threatens our sleep
we find that we need the time to wake
to pray for the revival of our souls
and in the damp of morning
the wind still argues against the windows
tossing our boat back and forth
but a spirit wind freshens
moving us forward on the surface of the sea
despite the weather
98
47
Classical Harmony
Photo by Kai Pilger on Pexels.com
One hand
caresses a progression
of chords into existence
another hand
tickles a melody into being
and then
as fingers learn to dance together
99
VISITING MY MUSE IN THE COUNTRY
a symphony is written
to a crescendo
and the satisfaction
that follows
a performance
rehearsed to perfection
the sort of sheet music
that will echo
through the years
and memories
still to come
100
48
Washed
Photo by Vlad Kovriga on Pexels.com
Moisture clings to the surface of our skin
tiny ovals glistening in the yellow of noon
are all that remains of the rain
that washed away the dirt
101
VISITING MY MUSE IN THE COUNTRY
that polluted the purity of our love
the sin that clouded the future before our eyes all the colors of a covenant
that arch is like a sign for the world to see
are the golden circles
we have wrapped around our fingers
those rings that hold us together
are reflected in the droplets
of holy water
102
49
Falling Deeper
Photo by Anthony on Pexels.com
Faith is more than
a nice sounding idea that we tell each other
103
VISITING MY MUSE IN THE COUNTRY
to find comfort
as our world goes dark
Faith is only as good
as what it is placed in
a torn parachute will let us down
even if we honestly believe that it will help us fly above the lake of fire
lapping up at our feet
faith becomes visible
when we let go of our efforts to save ourselves and fall
knowing that we will be caught by love
can we have a relationship
without support
without this sort of trust
can we have hope without knowing
that we can be redeemed
even when we fail
104
50
ALoveStory
Photo by Alejandro Avila on Pexels.com
He said a thousand words
and she wanted to believe them
105
VISITING MY MUSE IN THE COUNTRY
she wrote him ten thousand letters
and they only left him wondering
and the alphabet swirled around them
like a storm of technicolor dust
that leaves behind a scent of longing
but despite all these
it was his small selfless actions
that drew her to himself
but despite all these
it was her quiet acts of thoughtfulness
that pulled him to her side
but despite all these words
it was the deeds done in silence
that wrote the story of their love
106
51
Strength (Through Weakness)
Photo by Vanessa Garcia on Pexels.com
Love wasn’t there in the broken shards
of emptied bottles
107
VISITING MY MUSE IN THE COUNTRY
it didn’t grow through comfort
or the hazy days of liquid laughter
it crept in through the backdoor
after midnight
after the glorious letdown
where we had to learn the ways of grace
that comes when we face the people that we have become in our honesty
about the weakness we had tried to hide
even though everybody knew
we became strong
we became one
108
52
A Study in Harmony
Photo by Taryn Elliott on Pexels.com
Backstage.
Harmony
109
VISITING MY MUSE IN THE COUNTRY
is a blend of voices
bound by trust
and notes of pitch-perfect truth
you can’t get it by blowing your own horn
in what is supposed to be a vocal duet
I can’t get it by shutting down every voice except my own we could achieve a moment
greater than any off-key solo
if I were to grant you the freedom to sing your part if you were to release me to mine
if we were to stick to the melody of love
instead of banging out the raging chords of hate if we were to set each other free
we could be freed from the endless toil to achieve control if we could just lay ourselves down and let the song be sung like the writer said it should be
The Show.
the performance will only soar
when we flow together
like a river into the sea
like the climax of a symphony
before the peace
that comes with a tide subsiding
Afterglow.
we see
the sky clothed in the orange robe of evening
we see
the glorious stars of heaven
that mock the useless ones of the earth
110
we see
when we die to ourselves
we can start living
111
53
A Merry Go Round of Words
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com
In speaking
colorful images began spinning
112
out a glorious vision of life
but what happened under stress
when cracks began crawling the surface
revealing the truth of what had been hiding under the glass was there any love
was there any Spirit
or was it all just a kaleidoscope
of spiraling words
and a wild imagination
talking
113
54
Under the Cover
Photo by Wallace Chuck on Pexels.com
The cover was colourful
and glossy
114
the picture on the cover was as perfect
as Photoshop could make it
hands were twisted
fingers flexed
pages turned
and the title page passed by
into a puzzle of words
that pieced together a picture
revealing what was hidden within
and under the technicolor cover
did the story live up to what was promised
by the beautiful exterior
was there anything in the conversation
that would lead us to the next chapter
despite the chaotic noise of life
could we find ourselves entangled in another private moment together
115
55
Found Among Letters
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com
Serenaded by bird calls
and the song of letters
116
we linger
in the jungle of adventure
tangled in the words
twisting like the vines
silhouetted in the sunrise
exploding before our eyes
***
we are hopelessly lostaccording to the world
living without hope
we went missing
according to the world of war
we have yet to miss
but what if we have finally found
what we needed all along
when we went wrong
(according to people who don’t know what’s right)
***
the sound of an oasisbubbles as water from a fountain
washes over our bare feet
at rest
blessed
117
56
A Picture of Life
Photo by Git Stephen Gitau on Pexels.com
We could pretend that we believe in love
we could say all the right words
118
and take all the right pictures
to create an image of life
but without honesty
what are we really
without actions
that align with our words
what are we really
if what we believe
is so far from the truth
because the truth is simply reality
what really is
not what we really wish it was
what we say shows what we want people to think of us but what we do reveals what we are
and one honest gift of love
is worth more than one thousand words of lust
and self-serving proclamation
one moment of truthful conversation
leads to a deeper connection
then hours of dancing around the issues
and better is the tattered picture
of us rumpled but happy
then the gold-framed portrait of us
perfect in our misery
119
57
You Felt it Too
Photo by cottonbro on Pexels.com
In the hard days
the hardest days of my journey
120
through the garden
of weeds that plagued my mind
the trip became easier
just to know
that you felt it too
the waves of my pain
blended with sunlight
the distant grumbling of coming lightning
mixed with the colors of spring
the bouquet that you bring
into my tangled thoughts of thistles
to show me that you felt it too
the aching of someone in need of redemption
as I faced a horizon
polluted by the thorns of depression
telling me that there was nowhere for us to go that I would be better off alone
it was your arms that carried the weight of my bad ideas it was your love that carried me through
to the flowering field of a healthy life
121
58
In Search of a Perfect Circle
Photo by Rostislav Uzunov on Pexels.com
After editing
out the boring
and the stupid parts
was the story was stronger
122
after burning
away the stubble
and weeds
did the field become fertile
after leaving
all the feelings
and superficial talk the world calls love
did we arrive at something real
the diamond that sparkles
because of the years under pressure
the golden band that glistens
because of its time in the furnace
that most beautiful ring
crafted to spite the ugly circumstances
is it worth the effort to continue the search
or are we content to wish
…and live with less
123
59
The Forest Path
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com
I look at the flowers
full of beauty
124
yet they do not toil or spin
their clothing
I listen to the forest
full of song
as the birds frolic
in the hands of the Creator
I smell the renewal in the stream
dancing by two bare feet
the perfume of spring
is far more refreshing than the headlines of death which is the best that the experts have to bless us with is this a small taste of heaven
that we get when leave the bondage of sickness is heaven what comes after
embracing the pain of healing
is heaven a meadow of rest
prepared by a personal Jesus
is heaven a little better
than the self-centered boasting
we used to love
is a soul at peace worth giving up a life of violence as I review these questions
at the tip of my pen
the forest continues to chatter
and the wind continues to run
over the surface of the earth
125
60
Finding Fruit
Photo by Eren Li on Pexels.com
When my eyes
are weary after searching a horizon
126
of all the world’s fantasies
it is easy to spot the green of an orchard
when it stumbles into my line of vision
and I know that the truth is worth running to
when my hands
are torn and scarred
after sorting through the thistles of violence and war it is easy to recognize the fruit of the Spirit when it is dangling before my face
and I know that this is what I’ve been looking for when I’ve spent far too many days eating from the tins I’ve scrounged in the dollar store
it is easy to taste the flavor
of a freshly picked apple
bursting on my tongue
127
61
Natural Paradoxes
Photo by Ray Bilcliff on Pexels.com
Tree branches can only reach higher
if there are roots
that have dug themselves into the ground
love cannot be gained through force
128
but only through giving
of yourself
a flower can only burst into the sun
after a seed dies
in the belly of the earth
truth suffocates in the arms of overprotection but blossoms
in the untamed winds of freedom
fields of wheat can only turn golden
if they have been watered by the storms
of the summer
a child can only gain strength
by lifting the weight
of the world where they are born
birds can only experience the joy of migration if they are willing to leave where they’ve always been and paddle a sky of paths they have yet to learn 129
62
Lifelights
Photo by Kristina Paukshtite on Pexels.com
A glimmer of life
is kindled in the eyes of a child
130
and fanned into flame through the embrace of his father and the love of his mother
after the child has grown into a man
he will take from his fire to kindle another
candle bearing his name
and the cycle will continue
for as long as the world still stands
one generation
passing their light to the next
tender
flickering wicks
guarded from the wind
by a woman somewhere
unknown
and forgotten
but the one willing to give up everything
for the life-continuing
for the lights passing on
and on
131
63
What is Our Motivation?
Many times we want to be known by our words
words that are blown away by the wind
as time flows forward
as time is flying away faster than we realize
the dust storm reveals our foundation
what is the foundation we’ve been standing on
132
all our deeds will be revealed in the end
even the deeds we tried to keep hidden
and what we’ve done will show what we believed in not that we need to work for salvation
but wisdom is revealed by her children
and a tree shows us what it is
by the fruit it bears
in the same way, truth is seen
in the life it saves
a lie is seen
in the future, it steals
we must look deeper into the well
to see the condition of the soul
living water springs up from within
and changes a world without
while a barren stream
grows nothing but the pain
that comes from the pursuit of selfish gain
133
64
After Stepping Forward
Photo by Min An on Pexels.com
It all started
with a question
and the answer
that came soon after
134
where will I end up
if I stay where I am now
(outside the rain beats out a rhythm
like my heart beating)
the situation escalated
when I decided to stand
despite the pull of gravity toward the lazy chair that beckoned like a warm bath
where I could sleep forever
if I wanted to
and believe me, there is a side of me that wanted to stay (outside the electricity of thunder
crackles over a living forest)
but I took that first step
and the next one came easier
soon I had traveled farther than I ever thought I could (outside I hear a bird start to sing
as a rainbow pushes through the curtain of rain) when a person comes home to real love
there isn’t much satisfaction in looking back on the lie that was lived
that left a body used and alone
when a person is filled with the Holy Spirit
it is hard to miss the spirits that were sold for cheap every Saturday night
when we find heaven
we aren’t homesick for the city of destruction where we came from
(outside the sky is clearing
glowing after being washed clean)
135
65
Wild (Life)
Photo by Simon Berger on Pexels.com
Even if everything else is taken
we are free if we hold onto our imagination
it is rewarding
136
to walk on mountains
if only for another view
than what we’ve been told is safe
there is a certain thrill
in white water
there is a growing
confidence that can only come with leaving
comfort
there is a fire that can only be lit
with friction
maybe our best friends
don’t take us dancing
around the truth
maybe our best friends
drive us into the wilderness
in their old station wagon
and challenge everything we ever knew
with the things we could never say
inside a club flashing empty
with the kind of slow dancing that is done with words around a campfire
burning higher
as we are consumed by a hunger
to learn
137
66
Chasing Adventure
A relationship
means the loss of freedom
the freedom of doing whatever you want
without considering anyone else
138
a policy of truth
means the loss of opportunity
the sort of opportunity that comes from saying what people want to hear
a life of adventure in the great unknown
means the loss of safety
the sort of safety that comes with the familiar and the known
but even though all these things are lost
will they be missed
139
67
The Rewards of Risk
Photo by Martin on Pexels.com
Hand over hand
as bare skin meets stone
140
and the know it alls
laugh
from their places of safety
pebbles fall
as the rock face whispers
a threat of danger
but the only ones who will ever see the sun
from the top of the mountain
are those who dare to climb
hand over hand
as pain is slashed wide open
and the experts
expound on all the things they would never do
and have never done
***
It is easy to do nothing. To spend hours wallowing in the coffee shops of idle gossip and blame. But when we take responsibility. when we push out beyond our comfort zone…through the jungle of setbacks and criticism…we discover a strength that can only be gained through perseverance. We gain a character that can only be formed through struggle. Even though we have given up the warm comfort of excuses, we are rewarded with the royal robe of integrity. The sort of integrity that can only come by living out what we say we believe…and after we have gained so much, it is difficult to miss the cheap entertainment of the past…141
68
Swimming into Deeper Water
Photo by Sebastian Voortman on Pexels.com
The sand is caressing
my bare feet walking
142
and I can’t help but think
of where I went wrong
when self is put first
serving becomes self-serving
and righteousness
becomes self-righteousness
the waves are climbing
up and over my toes
and I am remembering
the joy of going deeper
there is a greater beauty in giving
yourself for the benefit of someone else
a love that is a jewel
in a world clouded by the dirty clouds of lust a love that only grows stronger
as it is battered by the struggles
that reveal who we are
a love that is calling
us further out into an ocean of grace
that washes us clean
as we swim away from the shore
under the warm colors
of a summer sun
143
69
In the Tossing, Still
Photo by Ray Bilcliff on Pexels.com
Winds whip their way
around and over
the place we are gasping
for some air without the sea
144
hurled like a beach ball
without the colors of joy
we are carried by the tide
into the Grey of a storm
it is hard to be still as we are thrown
into one wave
and then another
by an ocean of wicked hands grasping
threatening to pull us under
with their grip of murder
it is harder to have faith when we can’t see where we are going but faith is believing even when we can’t see
the power that controls the water
and the wind
subsiding
even as we are breathing
in a new beginning
145
70
There is More Than Earth
Photo by Miriam Espacio on Pexels.com
Despite all the ugly things that they say
146
you are beautiful in the eyes of God
even if spite and division are celebrated by the entire world the sky still proclaims a message of heaven
of a love that doesn’t need to be earned
of a peace that can calm the storm within
a lesson of grace that can be learned
a hope that can free us from hatred’s prison
isn’t this our secret longing
don’t we all want something more
than constant turmoil
in the lives we are living…
147
71
Love Made Visible
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com
So much is said
by a narcissist
to manipulate emotion
and to weave a wonderful blanket of virtue
148
to drape over a rotten body of sin
but our love isn’t a melodrama
with black hats and white hats
facing off at high noon
in the center of town
so much is promised by a narcissist
their many words swirl like a dust cloud
that obscure the sun
but these clouds never bring the rain
we need to grow
our love isn’t this kind of caricature
an exaggeration
or satire
the reality of our love
doesn’t need to be said
because it can be seen in what we do
in the quiet when no one is watching
serving each other
in small moments of giving
without expecting to receive
that is more fulfilling
then an entire lifetime
of living with someone who has a lot of things to say but doesn’t care about who we are
and won’t do anything to help us become the person that God has created us to be
149
72
Will Anyone Be There?
Photo by Valiphotos on Pexels.com
In the leaves changing
some people see
only the winter
150
about to haunt their lives
in the autumn storm
some people hear
only the change
that will soon fill their home with cold
in the rapidly shortening days
some people feel
only the melancholy
of depression
that always comes to visit
at this time of the year
the thoughts
that remain unspoken
the questions
that no one answers
the fingers of pain
that carry on scratching
against a canvas of skin
already full of scars
will anyone be there
to walk with the forgotten through the valley
of temptation
will anyone remember
those suffering
with sicknesses unseen
will anyone reach into the silence
of those tormented by memories
they are afraid to reveal
when the snow begins to swirl
around the torn clothing of those beaten by life will you light a fire
151
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Return to Grace
Photo by Markus Spiske on Pexels.com
As the leaves flutter and fall
covering the ground with signs
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of the changing season
as the nights grow colder
with the regret of all that was done
in the warmth of summer
as winter lurks around the corner
with the loneliness that waits for those who work for love we can still return to the shelter of home
the gathering around the fireplace of grace
the communion of love we cannot earn
we can only accept it as a gift
the embrace that brings us the peace
of the forgiven
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Construction/Destruction
Photo by Arantxa Treva on Pexels.com
Pulling down the walls
to the level of the ground
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is easier than raising them
putting a hammer through the windows
and standing in the rain of broken glass
is easier than giving people what they need to see sleeping beside a pile of lumber
is easier than putting the boards into their proper places but it doesn’t provide any support for the roof and it doesn’t provide any shelter from the storm only the hard work of building
can provide what we need to stay warm
when the winter comes
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Worldviews
Photo by Porapak Apichodilok on Pexels.com
Some people spend their lives grasping
for more things
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to prompt the tossing
the turning
the worrying that somebody
might take from them
all the things they have spent their lives taking other people spend their lives
trying in vain to avoid dying
wrapping themselves in bubble wrap cocoons
only to find in the end that they have never started living the risk of doing nothing with risk or danger
is that it leaves a soul with nothing
worth remembering
in the next life
a few people still learn that the world is bigger than themselves and there is a bigger purpose to life than indulging their own desire
even more fulfilling than complaining about the lack of blessings they are receiving
is giving
from the storehouse of blessings, they have been given opening the hands that were clenched into fists passing on the grace they have been blessed with yes, love is dangerous
to people who don’t want to change
but change is a sign that we are growing
in the knowledge of the love of God
what we say shows off what we think we know
but what we do shows what we have been learning about how to live
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Natural Consequences
In the spring
everything seemed to smell fresh
everything tickled our nostrils with the possibility the opportunity to fulfill our wants and needs 158
in the summer
everything that we planted
everything was revealed in the sun-kissed fields where we had scattered
our bag of seeds
in the fall
everything was harvested
everything presented a bill of consequences
like a storm of falling leaves
in the winter
everything was cold and barren
everything on earth was waiting for redemption groaning for a chance to begin again
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Counter (cultural)
Photo by Alexander Grey on Pexels.com
The trend was to wear funeral shrouds of black but we wore clothing of bold color
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even though everyone laughed at our lack of style the latest fad was to hate each other
but we still indulged in reasonable conversation and horrified the town with our spectacle of naked respect the mob on the street was mindlessly screaming out slogans that they had heard on the television while we dared to speak in a normal tone of voice yes we are the few
and the mad
who tried on the straitjacket
that the world had on sale
and found that it didn’t fit
we are the crazy ones
who just don’t get it
we want to live for more
than the lies
we are constantly sold
we still believe in something
bigger than ourselves
and we treat each other as humans
with value in the sight of God
we are wild
dangerous to the ones who find it easier to succumb to the fumes of the chloroform
we are outcasts
told to leave at every meeting of the wise
(in their own eyes)
but we have no desire for the violence of the world our lives have been changed by love
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Searching Steps
Photo by Ravi Kant on Pexels.com
Eyes
are opening
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taking
in the fog of darkness
where they sit
and they are tired of what they see
fingers
begin groping
feeling
their way forward
from where they slept
even though the outcome is far from certain
feet
are shuffling
stumbling
their way up a staircase
toward the surface
a picture of faith in motion
a body finding freedom
even as the shadows where they lived
are melting in the light
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Dark/Light
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com
The world is a mixture of valleys
and breathtaking views from the mountain
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deserts
and the colors of sunset dancing over a lake
life is a mixture of the mundane day-to-day
punctuated with occasional flashes of joy
and despair
sometimes we are needy
and sometimes we need to fill a need
winter itself is a mixture of the pain of freezing and the wonder of frost on the window
ice that helps us fall
and the ice helps us skate like a bird
across the surface of the sky
in times of struggle
there is the opportunity to lend a hand
in times of great darkness
there is an opportunity to share a little light in times of ugliness
there is the opportunity to share the beauty
(are we people who make the most of every opportunity even if it costs us comfort and safety)
everything around us continues to cycle
through birth
love
death and new life
are we making the most of the time we are given it is easy to complain about what you have done but there is a harder question
what am I doing
in the season that I am in
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The Author
www.kelvinbueckert.com
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VISITING MY MUSE IN THE COUNTRY
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