My innocent gaze...

I laugh and I cry

I sleep the night through.

Thoughts do not haunt me.

I bring joy to all

The crying eyes smile

When they see my innocent gaze.

My deepest fear

Has not yet come

I know it not, it is not real.

I kick and get not one reproach,

I love

And my eyes do not lie.

I'm a prince among men

And loved by all

All but the worst of enemies...

I am special,

and unique.

I am me.

Give me everything...

I heard a whisper
it would not go away
it told me of secrets
and asked for something dear...I hid.

I heard a shout
it would not be quieted
it told me it loved me
and asked for something dear...I ran.

I came upon
a soft, firm hand
it knocked out my breath
and asked for something dear...I cried.

So gently,
so extremely loving and kind
but firm and unwavering
the request was made again...I wept.

Something inside me
seemed to rip, my heart was now in two
and everything I had was gone
I'd relented, surrendered all.

He smiled.
At me.
I stopped.
And I stared.
At Him.
I was free!

Sliding up the Banister

Sliding
up the banister
it's hard
to see
where I'm going.
Not sure
how it works
how I climb
instead
of slipping.
A force
that I see not
is what
urges,
encourages me on.
It never
gives up or falters,
never lets me
fall in dust
at the bottom.
It's amazing,
incredible,
it's beyond
my human
understanding...

As,
you see,
I slide up the banister!

My eyes...

My eyes plead innocence 

My smile claims beauty

My heart still knows its worth

Unspoiled and untouched

I am beautiful

I am unique.

No trauma or pain have touched me

No crisis of identity

Or loss of self esteem

Has taken over

Who I think I am

I'm a princess, and I know it!

Languages...

Languages
We listen to them, hear their sounds
know their roots.

Love and hate
their tones, their rules, their every word
that they say.

Comparing,
lost in a world of difference
we probe them.

But did we
ever stop and think that He has
made them all?

Hear them now,
they reflect their maker, praise Him
show you love.


The harsh notes,
the poetry being sung now,
intricate
sentences, that fill up your ears,
short, swift words,
crazy letters, difficult rules,
they all speak
as they surround and swallow me.
They tell me
of beautiful secrets
and of love.

(photo disclaimer: this image does not belong to me. Belongs to: http://atrocitynews.files.wordpress.com/2007/09/inclusion-hands.jpg)

Near Enough to Touch...

I want the beauty, the glory

to be

so close

close enough to reach out

so near

near enough to touch.

I long for the power, the justice

to be

so clear

clear enough to see them

so strong

strong enough to never fade.

I ask for the mercy, grace and love

to be

within reach

I'm reaching out for them

on the point

the point of everlasting.

Wind Chimes

Wind chimes...I often think of those days. They're like a dream. Not a bad dream, a good one, a peaceful one, one where hardly anything ever seems to go wrong or feel rotten. If I go back far enough, concentrate hard enough, close my eyes and try as I listen to those same wind chimes...then I can smell the dirt, the trees, and the freshly cut grass. I can feel the soft summer wind on my hot skin. I can watch the long summer days fade by slowly. They were happy ones.

Forts, water, acorns and mud pies were the most I usually did. Long hikes over our land, or sitting in a tree writing poetry, or building "forts" out of broken branches, and picnics under the cool shade of a maple tree...they're all good memories. When barbed wire fences, and chokecherries were a fact of life. When chicken plucking was a normal summer activity. Wasps were an inevitable evil...but they announced the arrival of summer. Swings, slip-n-slides, and sprinklers to run through were always available...

Those were good days...it's nice to remember them!