Cold, crisp air, bright lights, fresh holly
Mingle joy and melancholy.
In this season, saints are jolly
And still cold.
Friendly faces full of laughter
Offer hope. But what comes after?
Garnished rooftops hide a rafter
Bare and cold.
All the best of man’s adorning
May well hide a heart in mourning.
Sorrow rarely gives forewarning
Of its cold.
But this chapter of the story
Is, for him, known territory.
This is still the road to glory,
Long and cold.
Christmas came and comes each season,
A reminder of the reason
Hope endures in spite of treason,
Through the cold.
Photo by Simon Matzinger on Unsplash
If you, LORD, withhold no good thing,
I must believe this present sting
Is evidence of providence,
A chance to give an offering.
My hopes and plans I humbly bring,
Releasing all, surrendering
To better sense your immanence
Within the shadow of your wing.
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How do you use social media?
Now light has broken through the shroud of darkness.
The dark shall not prevail,
For he does not and will not ever fail.
His love holds fast in spite of our heart’s hardness.
He heard our hopeless wail
And cured our state with his own cross and nail.
Photo by Jan Huber on Unsplash
God has been so very good to me. I don’t remind myself of that often enough
Sometimes things don’t go as planned.
To lose the world,
To gain one’s soul,
With sail unfurled,
And trust the wind
To bring you to the end.
Photo by Pierre Leverrier on Unsplash
“Do not fear me,” spoke the specter,
And I was afraid.
Death would surely follow from this brush.
But the holy soul collector,
With his wounds displayed,
Welcomed me and did the devil crush.
Photo by Akira Hojo on Unsplash
For the first time in months, I opened my book and read some of the poems included. As I read, I was encouraged, challenged, comforted, and convicted. I’d forgotten some of the lines I wrote years ago, and I was glad to find them again.