God is greatly to be praised,
For he Christ from death hath raised.
He is the triune and almighty God,
Adam he made from the sod.
He is God almighty throughout the heavens,
Sing to him with joyful hymns.
All things that on the earth do live,
To him your praise now give.
The mighty trees of cedar high,
They show that he is always nigh.
The tender fern so meek and low,
Murmurs that he made them so.
Rainbow
(An acronym)
Rain is falling to the ground,
Anywhere and everywhere I see water dripping down.
I look up and search the sky of clouds.
Now I see a place where sun beams fall through,
Brilliant shades of red, orange, yellow, green, and the rest,
One after the first flowing in a breathtaking arch of colors,
Wonderful and glorious is God’s great creation,
I watched out the sun-roof,
As we drove towards the city,
As millions of Diamonds spluttered,
Dimmed, Agony, Faded, Monotony -
Blinding traffic lights, tranquility lost.
Someone tell me we haven't lost sight.
I think we have something to learn from a lot of things. Things we take for granted, and don’t think twice about. Things like snowflakes…and hairbrushes…and candles…and glass…and rain…and sugar crystals… And asphalt.
mist hangs suspended
bewitching, elusive
drifts over the soybean field
reaching up from the neighbor’s lake
reaching, rising
a breath from a soul
the moon is a mirror
a sliver less than full
a mirror of your inside
warmth, wildness, wonder
and room to grow
its cool light echoes over the cool earth
a consolation
against the death of day
Here’s something random that jumped out of me the night before last, as I was sitting idly in the dining room, in front of my sister’s laptop, looking out the French doors and watching the day die… I figured it could be my July contribution. And for August, I’m going to have something revolutionary. See, the story goes…*deep breath*…my sisters and I won scholarships to participate in the Irish week at the summer music camp at the Augusta Heritage Center in West Virginia. So I’m going to write something little every day, about my experiences, and type it all up when we get home.
I walk slowly up the hill. The chilly wind sweeps down from somewhere outside this world, and rushes past me in a flurry of illusive wonder. Out beyond the little patch of green I stand on, the trees stretch out in rolling splendor to the horizon—and slowly, slowly they’re turning crimson, and orange, and gold.
Wandering by the pond
I stop and see
The form of me
There, looking back.
Like a magic wand
The wind has moved
The pond and proved
Another world, beyond.
Wandering through the grass
I look and see
Up above me
The sun's bright globe.
And there in the pond
The Heaven's world
Is taken, swirled,
And thrown back up, renewed.