Bliss, Whimsy, and Wonder(Autumn Is A Lady)

When Autumn rolls around in the deep South
Sometimes you get to crack a window.
Sometimes you get to raise it high
At night in the fall, every now and
Again.
Every once in a blue moon, you cut off the air
And breathe in the fresh,
At night
In the South sometimes.
And if you do
And when you do
You enter a Lewis Carroll world of wonder
And whimsy resides in the night and in the dawn.
In the South after summer when the fall rolls around
Like a big sweaty mess she arrives.
But sometimes she sits still
Long enough to cool off and breathe deep
A touch of crisp
Fall air
Blowing in the window raised high
Or even two up to catch the wonder, catch the breeze
Hear the whimsy in the morning
Like Alice.
Wipes the dew off her brow, we don’t sweat, we Southern women
And Autumn is a lady.
Fanning herself in the cool of the evening, sipping tea
And blowing her fresh air through the curtains,
Billowing, white cotton- grandmother’s.
There is a feathered one there at dark early, dark thirty.
He sounds like a feathered stand up, doing his best to sound
Like a bird.
Truth is stranger than fiction.
Truth is its a bird chirping out bird morse code
In the dark, in the wonder, in the whimsy.
Truth is he sounds more like a psalmist
Announcing the new mercy of the morning
In the cool, in the dark, in the deep South.
Truth is he invites by proclamation.
Come wander in wonder and wade in whimsy
And see what new awaits
In the cool in the fall in the South.
He made, He invites, He extends
A walk into new, a journey
with Him
On the trail of the psalmist bird, dropped
Like breadcrumbs, wooing us
To the wonder of it all.
When Autumn rolls around in the deep
In the South
At His command.
And the small feathered ones
Seem to always know first,
As they call us out
Of the sleepy
Place,
And wake us up to wonder.

When Love Is Hard

When misunderstanding shakes rattles rolls off the tongue
And harsh meets abrasive in the middle of the ear canal
Where unintended unfurls rough and callous, words always words
When gruff and course mingle and moan and say the things, broken through the filter,
Broken through love
When she says and they say and we say and she doesn’t say
And it all falls down
With a bruise and a bump and a scar
And love is left on the sidelines
Love is a latchkey child
Left in a shadow waiting to love ,the verb
Left on the bench, injured but the action verb wants to get in the game
And be patient be kind
Just be
Where pride puffs up and the battle is fought and pride puffs up some more
While the battle plays on but the war has just begun
And love love love
Is all you need
And holds tight and he slips through and she holds tight and
He holds tight
And you never give up
They are children
We are all children
Children of the Most High
Then why is it hard
When the me and the we and the I
Fight for the leading role
And its my way or the highway, love
Bends in humility
Love keeps no record of wrongs and the love verb
Is quick to forgive.
To the moon and back
Till death do us part
On this side of eternity
Love hard
Love very hard
I do
I will
Love hard back
Forever
This is my solemn vow
By grace, by gosh, by golly
Love is all you need
Praying hard
Loving Hard
Praying and loving hard.

Linking with Jennifer and Duane and Ann and Emily and with Joy, with joy.


Also linking with Mary Beth and over at Women Living Well

A Grateful Hand

May we walk together,
linked
all together as a bold one
into a land
of extravagant generosity…
of
time &
talent
words &
love
prayer &
kindness
where
we unfurl from the white-knuckled grip of the insatiable I and me.

Linking in community today with the folks at Still Saturday. Thank you Sandy.

Opening the door for you my friends, may we always open the door for one another in a community of His love.

And holding it open for a long while, as you walk into the wonderful wonders of your week’s end.