Beauty, In The End

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Beauty, In The End

Bold proclamations do not come easily to me
A tentativeness attends my tongue

Couched in qualifiers are my words
Shy with if’s and but’s

Strength and power are on the rise
And I can bravely say
Though whispering only, truly, to my God
In prayer

My eyes are set on beauty
Bent in the folds of deep despair and pain
Rising up from ash and cold
Bubbling up like Veuve Clicquot
Dancing in a narrow flute

Beauty, grace-laced beauty
Will find us in the end
Set my eyes on its horizon
Find me always searching there
For

Love, so beautiful through my lense
Lend me Your eyes
So tender, holy and Divine
Rain down your love and shower us
Drench us
With
All that is beautiful

In the end

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One Beautiful Mistake

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One Beautiful Mistake

Perhaps redemption looks a lot like this. Or a little like this. Or something like this. I’d like to hope that there is a splash of brilliant transformation on the mistakes that we have made. Brushstroke by brushstroke. Wet with the tears of remorse and cries for forgiveness and new starts.

Forgiveness and new mercies sent to Earth on the wings of His amazing grace. And I whisper the prayer, give me the eyes to see Your loving arms around each one of my own, Beautiful Mistakes. Made beautiful by Your grace. Washed clean. Changed into holy beauty, by Your unfathomable, unbelievable, unending, and unmerited grace.

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One Beautiful Mistake

Red bleeds pink from the sky
one night
Writing cryptic messages

Heaven’s hieroglyphics
I run to it
I run away

Catch what is lost
My breath

I see the beauty
In one beautiful mistake

Redemption
Written by The
Sky-writer
Lover of my soul

I nod a billion times
Each a nod of gratitude
They number,
Mirror every unseen star

Feel
You dry my leaking eyes
And hear
You whisper
At the start of night

There was a fire in the sky last night
Before the earth
Was wrapped
In skies of frigid cold
Remember long, the beautiful
Remember long, the warmth
Hold loosely to each gift
And wait for the Beautiful’s return

Red bleeds pink from the sky
One night
Writing holy messages

The Concrete Bench (Unseen, Behind The Lens)

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The Concrete Bench

You would have no way to know

For I am showing you only beauty

It is what I frame, in the imaginary crosshairs

Of my lens

Cropping out ugly, should it

Creep into my viewfinder

As I sit alone, in grateful solitude

On a bench I call my own

Made in my imagination

Just for me, grey, stone-cold, sturdy

To

Reflect

And be reflected

Dream and watch the dreams float by

Held

And undergirded, by the sea

The seen and unseen

Pass me by

While I count the joy and toss the pain

Into the sea, a salty grave

For tears

There Is No End In Sight

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Welcome to Day 29. To read all posts published in this series, click the page tab marked at the top of this home page. Thank you for joining me. Always. Grateful. e

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There Is No End In Sight

It is better this way

Not knowing if I will sit with you in your suffering
For hours or days
The clock promises to keep this secret from me
From us
To
Guard time
Hoard it or release it in copious amounts
Along with hope

It is an act of mercy
Unlike my strong grip on you

There is no end in sight
Steadfast in love
I rub you and hold you
Shallow breathes
Breathe hot hope across the
Kitchen floor

You are slipping from me

nose to nose
paw to hand
fur to skin

The only difference is you are close to leaving me

Show me when to let you go
You always knew
Contentment in the midst of suffering
Perhaps you earned the moniker

Best friend
Of man
And woman

Please stay and love us a little
Longer, while
There is no end in sight

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sunflower for pikmonkey