The Vigil

come unto me

She swears the color yellow soothes a soul
So you will  find her staring at the garden
Fixed gaze on the yellowest flower there
In the yard
She guards
Her heart
Holding vigil over one who gives her labor pains
Though eighteen years have passed since birth
Holding hope for one
Who birthed her too
Traumatized by screams of pain
She is ripped in two
She finds the field of yellow calms her nerves
Between her shifting gaze she lays it down
And takes it up again, her sinful self desires to stir the pot
She rakes the coals, red hot
Searing
Bloody
Mad when stirred
Hotter when  she pokes the fire
Fear finds fuel in oxygen of snuffed out hope
So she’ll return to yellow on her color wheel
Where quiet and calm soothe her aching soul
Now she knows how He must feel
Father of a million times a million times a million, no more
And lover of as many souls
She will pick a single yellow stem
And give it all to Him
The Perfecter of Her Faith
The One Who Never Sleeps Nor Rests
She lays the flower down
She’ll rest
Reciting: Goldfinch, Monarch, Black-eyed Susans
Over in her dreams
Calmed by yellow memories and hum
It is well with my soul
For He has got her back, cradled in His arms
She wears the title
Mother, Daughter, but
No longer
Tender of a  flame that burns
Her heart consumed by fear.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Joining Jennifer Dukes Lee for #tellhisstory

The Royal We

trio in nature

The Royal We

We held a meeting
Called a quorum
Banged the gavel

Called to order
Read the minutes
Decided that we

Would try to do some
Things a little different
Around here

Thoreau was right
You know
Those words of his

On vanity and writing
Sitting down before you
Stand

Stand up and do some living
And we decided more than that
Life has had its share of fear

And when you meet it, stare it square
Fear  is  lost
A mystery not lost on us

We banged the gavel rung the bell
And called it short
This meeting of the minds

Released us, we dive into life
The three, we conquers now of fear
That while the meek may inherit the earth

Joy comes in the morning
And in the afternoon
Right after you stand up

To fear
Tell  it to take a hike
And took a stand

To do your living standing up
Before you vainly
Sat to write

Of all the weight of glory
We felt bearing down
Upon the three of us

The business of a life well lived
Thoreau
He knows

And now
So do we
The brave and  royal we.

The Cowardly Lioness Finds Courage, The End

u434w215r_177

Joining Lisa Jo Baker and a wonderful community of writers for her five minute friday writing prompt. Today’s word is afraid.

5_minute_friday4The Cowardly Lioness Finds Courage, The End

The beginning and middle are there
But it is the end that matters
The most
It is the end that is a beginning
Really
Starting at the place where the Courage
Was found and the fear fled
Starting over at the point where the spirit of brave
Replaced a spirit of timidity
Beginning anew life of freedom, being born free
Without the bonds of cowardice and fear weighing
Heavy on the backbone and oh the weight and
Oppression in shaking and trembling

But the end is good
And the end is worthy of celebration
And it is as if all the stars shine bright in a celestial celebration
Of new birth
They shimmer and shine
The speak with their twinkling, speaking good news
Of new and brave
Shouting courage for living, courage for flying, courage for soaring
She is born anew

And it is as if the heavens light a candle on the backdrop of ebony velveteen draping
And unveil the new creature

And her name will be

Unafraid

The Lioness who lights up the night sky.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

(And thanks for grace for a bit over the five.)
8116766735_e365df659a

6025924437_0eed108371_m

When The Camellia Bloom

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Brave, they seem
Beauty in the cold
Bold, they bloom
Bringers of hope
Bouquets of art in ash

Brave, they are
Bracing their blooms in the arctic winds
Braving the elements
Bringing merciful glory to a garden
Bunched or singular
Buglers of tomorrow’s new
Bastions of grace amid green foliage
All will be well with my soul,

When the camellia bloom.

Joining Laura at The Wellspring for her Playdates. One of my favorite places.

OneWord2013_ArtBl8050808552_52fbdcf644_mone word buttonow468-look15d037876-16bd-463d-92cd-6b173e7fa589_thumb_BR_3