More Than A View

I think a lot of people would be better served if they could sit here for a week, or even two.

The isolation, creation so perfect, in thought and silence, would  be better than we usually do.

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Time for the Sky

How could I have been so busy that I didn’t have time for the sky?

The setting I seek, to drift, and ponder each and every why.

It’s Alright to be Impacted by the Game

Sometimes I stay up quite late just so I can let my mind run away from the real, and approach subjects that I would much rather touch, or certainly feel.

Then there are times when I lengthen the day just to wrestle free from the noise, you know, to get out from under the distractions, and that which just annoys.

So, what. So I can prove that, maybe, something good happens after midnight, and I descend to the depths of thought, just to get to the core, then I sit and write.

God Bless the USA, Let’s Pray

I don’t need science to tell me that meditation repairs brain matter

Just bow your head and talk to Him, void of all the societal chatter

 

See, there are places all around you can find a spot filled in silence

Here, at least for now, my walk and talk with Jesus, is my license

 

Go to some quiet place, exhale, bow in reverence, and just pray

List every little thing you are thankful for if you need words to say

 

Ask with respect, Lord please give me direction in these areas of life

Better yet, kneel beside your bed together, praying, husband and wife

 

Then maybe look inside yourself, find the hidden, and set it free

Talk with Him about it, all of it, don’t open your eyes, and you’ll see

 

It’s okay to ask Him for help here, where else would you rather go

There’s always an answer whether we understand or not, God knows

 

Which came first the Power of the Almighty or the power of repentance

I know it changes hearts, much less the obvious, our countenance

 

Pray at length for our leaders instead of complaining about him or her

We all long for the way that it was, so bend a knee, that’s how we were

 

Bring your grievances to the bench of the Supreme Judge in humility

Don’t carry them another day, have faith, it’ll be better for you, and we

 

It’s heard across this great land less and less, God Bless the USA

Maybe we’re the problem, let’s find a place, bow our heads, let’s pray

Pray Pastor

Pray pastor, please continue to pray, so I don’t have to raise my head or open my eyes. I wish not to wipe my eyes, nor do I care to address the shortness of breath accompanied with the quiet sobs rippling through me. For all the pain and suffering that surrounds me, I am okay here, safely seeking refuge in this old, friendly church. If this moment could just last forever, maybe I could return to my youth, playing out on the farm on a warm summer day. I could again, smell the sweet air that was found out there. Inside, my grandmother would be rolling out the materials to create those most wonderful home-made donuts, with our visit in mind. Down the old dirt road, my uncles would once again come. They were larger than life to me, so strong, so smart, so unafraid, and such Godly men who were an example to us all, maybe even more than they knew. My aunts would gather and nourishment was prepared in every shape and form. Hymns being sung could be heard waltzing through the air. Grampy would have kick started my day with the sweet aroma of bacon cooked on a wood stove, and probably shared a couple of tricks to resourceful farm living if I had been paying enough attention to him going about his day. Time would be moving just slowly enough to make sure that I would not lose these memories, nor would I forget the lessons learned among the greatest people I have ever known. Pray longer pastor, for here it’s safe and nothing hurts. Here there is love, all around me, and from above. In this row I sit with the nearest and the dearest from now and from times before me too. On all sides there is hope, there is admiration, and there is selflessness. I am praying with you pastor. Can we just pray a little more? I need prayer, we all do, and I sit here, head bowed, eyes closed, in reverence I pray too. Amen.

The rest of that story.

Stories in every stone

http://wp.me/p2WUYR-5E

Then came a silence, a hush that only solitude knows

The hazy sun, diving to the horizon all aglow

 

Peeked, all other sounds, tho faint, seems to explode

Hidden now, a trail, reverent americans once rode

 

Shadows grow, the bouquet of color dims and greys

Light diminished, familiarity rushes from this place

 

Exhaling breath that finds the exit difficult to behold

A piece not to be touched wishes for the days of old

 

Not to fear, atrocities, adventure, stories not passed on

What of this spot? Man and nature have tread upon

 

There are stories in every stone, in each ancient tree

Who, if any, were along this trail, witness to see?

 

Many running aloof, bestowed in them a respect

Content they were, their future they could not protect

 

Skies open in all directions, they have seen, seen all

The lands the same, mostly, many did rise and fall

 

Progress wandered along this way defined by the ages

Leaving the open, the expanse, in some sort of cages

 

Winds still blow, visions distorted, unreal still appear

Or maybe it’s a trick, played on all whom traverse here

 

Hark! The rustle along the edge draws all away

The breeze that blew then still rushes the same way

 

Truths hide in sight, protected by the wild, and time

Tarry longer, that age is gone, only remnants to find

 

Perhaps, as it should be, to save the stories for those,

The ones unspoiled, passed down by the ones that know 

 

Treading on ground, leaving this place, quivering alone

A sachem long gone could draw the past from a stone

 

So it remains, the places we see, only a trace to then

Lest we forget all, a time, we must remember had been