Tag Archives: poetry

Almost A Riddle

Featured | Posted by

A circle is round

In fact, it is bound

To be round for as long as it exists

A circle cut in half

Is only half round as it once was

And as a circle, almost unrecognizable

You can no longer roll it about

A wheel? It just won’t do

Need a button or a dial?

It’s simply not for you.

When folded, almost triangular

No other circle quite so strange-ular

And devoid of its rounded pride

Is now a circle with three sides

Half of half a circle

Resembles a piece of pie

But it certainly doesn’t taste like one

Unless it was a pie, to begin with.

First Born

Featured | Posted by

It’s amazing how difficult it is to be firstborn

The second does not understand

They see privilege

Favoritism

Unfairness

Yet being firstborn comes with so much responsibility

It’s built-in

It’s part of the job

It looks like bossiness

But it’s protection

It looks like don’t wanna play

But it’s growing up

It looks like never share

But it’s longing for something

Anything that is exclusively yours

Firstborn means

Being in your own world sometimes

It means different teachers

Different friends

Different likes and dislikes

Different experiences

Different memories

It means moving at a different pace

Moving ahead

And eventually

It means leaving and not coming back

It’s not insensitive

It’s not uncaring

It’s just firstborn

Morning

Posted on by

What a beautiful time

Morning

When light is just arriving

Oh the joyful certainty of sunrise

It will not stay dark forever

Genesis 8:22 “As long as the earth remains, there will be planting and harvest, cold and heat, summer and winter, day and night.”

Psalm 30:5b “Weeping may last through the night, but joy comes with the morning.”

Scripture is taken from the Holy Bible, New Living Translation, copyright 1996, 2004, 2015 by Tyndale House Foundation. All rights reserved.

A few Minutes by a Creek

Posted on by

I love to spend a few minutes by a creek-

The peaceful sound of water rushing over stones and fallen trees

Autumnal colors: amber, brown and mossy green

A smooth, cold boulder seat

Stepping stones anchored to the creek bed

Jagged sticks and floating leaves cluster together

Capturing wild waters and taming them before my very eyes

Would-be waterfalls and an icy breeze

Spindly twigs and smoky clouds overlap the brilliant blue above me

Scented evergreens stand with bare maples

Remnant leaves waft by and then rest beside me

Too many to count

Ferns and slate protrude from the banks

Unmistakable and incomparable

I love to spend a few hours by a creek

What Will You Bring?

Posted on by

Ah, to inspire…

Like the expanse of the ocean-

Waves crescendoing against a pink-blue sky

Or 70 and ten musicians devoted to the score

An atrium of sound flooding the soul

Or a climber who reached the peak

Against all odds

To inspire would be great

But then what?

Will the spark perpetuate greatness?

Or will it die like an ember upon the hearth?

I think I will bring joy instead

Available in a moment

Seen on the face

And felt in the belly

The giver and receiver, both lighter

Floating gently upward

Like two balloons released into the sky…