If only

 People often ask, “wow! What kind of pen did you use to write that poetry?” NOT.

If only I had a pen like yours, I’d be a poet too

First John Burns

 First John Burns 

 by john clare  

  As hollow shells in our biers of aging 

 In paper shrouds we shall forever dwell 

 Images of a life before we fell  

In one dimension flat between the pages 

 Some to King James volumes worn 

 In the bosom of the love of First John 

 Some to ye old Burns pages torn 

 There, him at Agincourt wha shone 

 A hundred years to quietly lie 

 The words in the image one becoming  

 Far hence the sound of tattered chapters turning 

 Beneath old Scotia's smiling eye; 

 Aye in the image clearly writ 

 Far faded in the long idle sit  

 His love perfected in Him alone 

 Long beyond ye ole image is gone.

Touch then go

 Touch and go

Isn't that the way we live

To touch

Then to go

So quickly comes the

Run way

Then

Eternity

I thought on FB if I didn’t post awhile maybe absence would make my posts fonder. Wrong. Melissa and a spammer only. 

Dream of mine

 Dream of mine

It’s never occurred

The passing of the Sandhills

Through the moon

But with imagination

And a bit of trickery

It happens regularly

What a legacy

 What a legacy

Ole granny died and went to her long reward

The family they never were much for formal religion

Especially the dressing up and sitting variety

They could sit a spell long on a bar stool

A deer stand or a boat seat

Cushioned pews were quite unfitting

Now granny was frugal and never spent what money they knew she had

And when the hired preacher began his eulogy 

He kept telling them what a legacy

What a legacy granny left

 Not conversant with preacher talk

They just figured this old vicar knew

Something they didn't

So after the burial out behind the church

They hurried home to turn upside down

The old homeplace

Searching for that legacy.

Levy Tears

 Levy Tears 

 by john clare  

 That squared piece of Florida sand  

With those Grottos so deep  

 Must be the source of tears  

 Falling below to caverns they seep 

 To well up at the tolling  

 That another no longer stands  

 Ringing again another going  

 Going below to that Levy sand

Disperson Home

Dispersion Home

John Clare Stokes

Dropping into the lake that Spring morning

The warmth of the wood box high above me

I joined my brothers and sisters joyfully

And knew immediately an inner yearning.

I knew without warning of Gators and Snakes

To be avoided 

I knew without seeing a longing for a distant home

That I must forage continually to grow strong

In order to join the grand, gathering dispersion.

I recall vividly the first chill of Autumn

How from this lake as if on cue

We lifted and knew the way as we in

V formations were joined with

Wings of purpose soaring toward the

Home we always knew from fledglings.

And so now I lay in the old nest box

From which I came

Beneath me the ones who will heed 

 their inner calling

As upon their grand migration I shall see

But not join

But this I shall know as from the beginning

Dispersion Home was always the deepest

Instinct within me.

Kindred ones

 Soul mates among us

Premonition is a mysterious phenomenon. Walking along the Alligator Lake Montgomery trail, I suddenly stop and look behind. It seems someone is following. I look but no one. I resume and in front of me comes Ingra. We stop as she asks me how far is the trail in her soft, I must listen carefully Norwegian accent. I tell her three miles. She is new to the area and inquires much about wild places to see in the area. I try and give directions. Inwardly I’d like to say as the blind man in the Subaru commercial, you cannot get there from here, I will take you.

I trust Ingrid and I meet again. Like I say, soul mates come in all ages, colors and sizes.

He Opened the doors

He…opened the doors of heaven. Ps 78:23

God, who has the key of the clouds, opened the doors of heaven; that is more than opening the windows, which is yet spoken of as a great blessing. Matt 3:19

Matthew Henry

His Spirit hovered over the waters

from chaos order

Gen 1:2

Watertown Lake

Miss State

We made the long eight plus trip to Starkville, Miss to see Ryland, Melanies sister’s son Heather graduate from the School of Architecture. We stayed in a 100 year old house near the campus. Being that all my relatives live near by and are State fans, it was good to see all.  

Come the light

 Come the Light

By John Clare

For I have waited all the night

For the rising of the first light

In the depths of death I lay

Longing for the life of day

My soul in Sheol did dwell

Bound in dark cold of hell

In tears my bed was washed

Would the night wails ever stop!

The tormentor said curse God and die

You are but grass under night sky

In sorrow I said it must be so

For only this long night I know

Then from the darkest Sheol

A word scribed long ago

The Lord my God lightens my darkness

Light dawns in the darkness for the upright

The unfolding of His word gives light

From this dark dungeon I arose

Sweet light!

Pleasant to the eye from one whom the darkness he knows.

I must, he must

 I must decrease

I recall when Landon and I studied what scripture he wanted for his first tattoo. 

It couldn’t be too long(pain) or too short, Jesus wept. He settled upon one of my favorite verses from John, John 3:30 where upon seeing Jesus, John the Baptist exclaimed, “He must increase, but I must decrease”. 

A surfer then, I do not know if he still has the tattoo under his left bicep. When he entered the Air Force, he had to remove one painfully on his neck.

Daily I struggle with this scripture. Today I said, no weigh! I refused to weigh as every day has been a gain, not just physical, but ego and other load bearing sin, and at the same time, I read the daily scriptures which I often fall behind in, His increase so needed.