Herald of Spring

Metaphors are written into the wind, the forests, the seasons, the oceans, the sunsets, the rivers, the stars...... What a gift to be able to capture them, contemplate them, and celebrate them!


From my frost covered window
I watch a lonesome bird contemplate
His reflection in an icy puddle.
Thin feathers, hardly a heavy jacket for this biting day,
Shield his naked soul from the death of winter.
Why has he lingered?
Gone are his fellow choir members.
Gone is the summer symphony.
He solos forgotten melodies into the silence of a snowy day
He chants carols from a spindly branch that wheezes as it bows..
I study this solitary bugler in awe.
He is a fighter
Not a comfort lover.
An independent thinker.
Not a follower.
He is one who chooses the path of most resistance,
One made strong by his very choices.
Undaunted by stormy threats and the howling mockery of the wind,
He announces life in the midst of death.
An unrelenting watchman on a wall,
He is the herald of spring time.

Spell Breaker

Some truths are timeless, I find that this is one of them.

SPELL BREAKER

An abyss of eternal span
Is centered in the dark of man.
It haunts his soul and echoes through
The wall-less wall and view-less view.

It taunts the very core of him
Until he fills the pit with sin
And then, it echoes louder still
Appealing to his heart and will.

But nothing of a mortal span
Can fill the dark that lurks in man.
For man can not so break the spell
That’s bound his soul down into hell.

And yet a blade that rips the night
Is wielded by the prince of light
Who knows no fear of mortal chains
Nor cowers from the dark domains.

For he has written life on death
And placed in man eternal breath
And in the hollow of the span
Has spoken truth back into man.

Light to Man

One of the great joys in my life is seeing God. And, I do. Everywhere!


Light to Man

You’ve sketched your name across the sky
In letters that defy the eye.
You’ve carved your love on every tree,
Despite the fact that man can’t see.
For in every flower there’s a clue
Of who you are and what you do.
Through every bird that takes its wing
And every warbler taught to sing,
You show the world how much you care,
That love is penned upon the air.
Yet eyes of man remain so blind,
In all the truth he seeks to find.
Why is it that he does not know
That sunsets don’t just happen so?
That butterflies can’t take their wing
Apart from thought built into Spring.
Every house must have a plan,
Then, how much more the mind of man?
What is this veil that clothes the eyes?
And changes truth to look like lies?
How is it that he looks so hard
To find his worth and earn reward?
Yet, hidden in the depths of sin
Is all that blinds the truth from him.
For selfishness has laid the curse
And made the darkness all the worse.
So, what can change this plight of man
That death and doom hold in their hand?
The artist of the dancing stars?
Can he remove these hidden bars?
The author of the whale’s sweet song
Can he undo this course of wrong?
The one who causes wintry nights
To craft the stage for northern lights?
Yes…he’s the one to tear the veil
And make the dark of dark to pale,
To penetrate the heart of man
With light that so reveals the plan.
And, he’s the one to right the wrong
Then sing back into man the song.
For he’s the only one who can,
Bring man to light and light to man.