In a Day
When my bright moments fall away
When my bursting memories fade to gray
the pages in this book will stay
to faithfully remind me of my day
In what way was this day spent
was it torn, battered or bent?
Maybe it was borrowed, possibly lent.
Either way, it was a day, hopefully well meant.
Tell Your Story
Everybody has a story.
Everybody has a song.
Everybody has a way to take away the pain that longs.
Each person's tale is different.
Each person's tale is strong.
But how can we make a difference,
if we do not sing our song?
High Sky
The guitarman came on stage
He strung a cord
He played a phrase
Out in the audience, they did wonder
His peculiar take on the song
They tilted their heads
and twittled their thumbs
Then thought to themselves, this is just plain wrong!
Their ears did quake
And so did his
As the guitarman started to play again
The squeaks and squaks he knew weren't right
But he still smiled with pure delight
For he knew the time would come
When he'd strut on the stage and gleam
in the sun
And the crowds would cheer or so he assumed
That's why the guitarman is so persistant
while practicing in grandmas's living room.
A Hushed Prayer
His prayer was deep
His prayer left eyes
open wide
He spoke of things most men avoid
The others mumble and fuss and
lower their voice
But this man said what was on
his heart
He said persecution was on the way
And we really wouldn't know the day
that it would try to break our bones
And scratch our throats to hear our
groans.
So we stay inside our cozy homes
Our comfy lives and warm abodes
to push away the outside threats
Try and tell ourselves- it won't happen yet.
But as this young man recalled
Who are we to boast at all
For we all see it's coming soon
It's coming soon.
And are we ready or are we not?
Because this name is no longer sane,
will we run or will we face?
It's not a hide-behind-the-curtain game,
and then he ends with Amen. and we breath
and open our eyes-to see our two hands and feet
are right where we left them
safely on the wooden desk that prepares to write
freedom's tale as a woman or man that can't remember
why they were wishing their hair wouldn't get
wet in the rain outside.
The Free Ladybug
Oh there she is!
Oh there she goes!
Look, she's wand'red up a rose
Instinctively she crawls around
To inspect her dinner, to find her ground
Where she can merely be safe and sound
A wing goes up and then comes down
All in making but a sound
For curiosity prevails
As she jumps and flies from
leaf to pail
What if we were all as curious as she?
Flapping our wings and flying free.
Daring to reach the tops of our trees
To see all the wonder and majesty
Of our great Lord and King.
To explore the heights and seas and plains
The shining sun and soaking rains
To bounce from place to place
embracing each stage
As yes, if we were as curious as she.
To the...
To The ignored
Deflat
ed
and bro ken hearted
People will tell you it's okey.
And you know it is.
But no matter what they tell you
You have to tell you
What you know
to be TRUE
so you can gR0W
and be you.
Remember God made you
unique; beautiful; loving
in His image egami
