Holiness is often found where we least expect it...in the whisper of truth as one searches the depth of the stars, in the presence of sound as one drinks in the lyrics of silence, in the innocence that clothes the heart of a child as he or she seeks to understand death, in the gift of repentance and forgiveness from one whose heart has been broken....
And it is in in our search for the holy that we catch a glimpse of Him...the creator of the universe...the lover of our souls. Elusive moments of captured splendor... captured but only fleetingly so....captured by us yet given freely by him. Serendipitous. Unrepeatable.
May the prose and poetry that I post hang a window in the heavens that we might gather holy moments for our mundane journeys.
Silence hovers over still waters
Mirrored on this glossy canvas are barren branches
Winter has harvested the final vestiges of fall.
And, seated in silence, I join this holy requiem of nature.
A windless hush ushers in reverence for simplicity, strength and perseverance.
Noble fruit of harsh temperatures.
Towering skeletons that were once lush, verdant and vibrant with life
Stand naked in humiliation
These holy warriors are my mentors
Reminding me that when life is cold and winds are relentless,
I must stand tall though naked and humiliated
Silent but unyielding to adversity
For spring will come again.
Dana M. Seale
Terracotta, pumpkin, brown, sweeps the wind and noble ground,
Brilliance rides this heightened glory
Leaves like pages
Tell a story
Of verdant lives once fresh and strong,
Now weathered remnants
of a winter song.
Precursors to a certain death,
Yet still they dance in nature’s breath
Undaunted by their winter foes
They waltz on wind in wordless prose.
Dana M. Seale
November 19, 2008