And the Word became cherished
And was read among us.
Even dwelt inside some of us
And we beheld it wondrously
As e’en from the Father o’er us.
Falling Creek Chapel
Monday, June 9, 2025
Moon threes
Moon threes
Johnclarestokes
I dreamed again I was in high school
on Coach Robinson’s basketball team
composed of all brothers and sisters
I wasn’t a starter as I sat on the bench
eating pizza and complaining about
the starting five not working for a shot
just tossing the ball up
At some point my name was called
when I went in I envisioned being the hero
but I could barely dribble, throw or shoot
the round ball
at some point toward the end the other
team left the court and it took me five attempts
to make a layup unguarded
we were still down by twenty
Everyone was lining up shaking hands
I was still playing
trying to win.
Marvelous night for a moon swoosh
Long distance fall
Long distant fall
Johnclarestokes
Yesterday I heard the sirens heading your way
Later I learned you had fallen and couldn’t get up
And I was saddened by my long ago prophecy
That this fall began when we broke up
It wasn’t so much that being mine was grand
That immunity from distant falling was granted
It was best we never made a home stand
That the Passion flowers were never planted
We went our separate ways and faded in memory
Occasionally I would ask whatever came of you
Someone would vaguely say she seems happy
I’d nod and think of sirens flashing red and blue
Can rehabs mend the lovers lives long fallen
Prophecy fulfilled can be such a cruel thing
In the night I’m awakened by your frantic calling
I lay there and count the haunted rings.
Sharp Memory
Sharp memory
Johnclarestokes
The days have come where I am thankful
for some of my most memorable times
the camera was along to preserve the day
the very place where we’d sit and would
barely say any words, deep in thought
of those things growing, those lives going
those things coming to break the silence.
For now I’ve come to live long enough
that these things are gone from there
I’d be hard pressed to stand upon the
spot we once sat in the afternoon sun
the gardening done, the supper simmering
the tinge of fall in the air, the hum of a
hymn upon the wind, the silence listening.
Father and Son on a Sunday morning
Crawfordville
Kodachrome
1980’s
Breath of lives
Breath of lives
John Clare Stokes
They say the Suwannee is a living entity
That if you stand silent and listen
You can hear the respirations
Faint as a wisp at times
Breathless gasping loud at others
When I stand in the places others stood
I sense the river continues their breathing
Keeping the memory of their lives alive
And I exhale slowly and the river
Takes my breath.
Judy Hancock by Suwannee
Crossing Him
Crossing Him
John Clare Stokes
There is never a rhyme or reason
Adequate to explain His coming
He comes at the opportune
He comes at the inopportune
When least expected
When most expected
Today He beckoned above
The First Baptist steeple
Just as the insurance man
Was lured at the same time
Sunday, June 8, 2025
Deacons bench
Deacon bench
Mt Tabor
No throne of comfort for the minister
All sat in splintered humility
The old rail not a pulpit separation
Just a hitching post of deep contrition.
Cherish the gift
Cherish the gift
To this day I still smart when I think back to visiting my Uncle and Aunt, anxious to see where they (I anxiously thought), proudly displayed, (the grand to an eight year old), oil painting of a mountain lion descending down a tree, I had sent them for Christmas. I looked all about and Oh how hurt to find it not over the couch, but hidden behind it.
I never said anything, but I wanted so badly to rescue my painting.
With MCE
Liberty with MCE
Bouquet boy was over at MC’s
Admiring his pen and ink virtuosity
He asked Escher if he could add color
MC said, “only if it’s for your lover!”
Ground to glory
Ground to Glory
Can the mushroom praise? Are angels manifesting in the blades of grass? As the Master walked past, my blinded eyes opened, and yes, I beheld ten thousand times ten thousand and thousands upon thousands of blades of grass all lifted in praise as the Master walked past.
Desperate times
Desperate Times
Johnclarestokes
Twas a time in the sweltering desperate days
rockin’ and swattin’ the quiet yellow flies
Through ant lion mines they made their way
past widows webs to claim their prize.
All lined up in their fastidious rows
the carpenter ants bore their desperate load
tracing back their formic path they go
only to have supper snatched by the toad.
Now the warty toad was not too wise
making all the desperate carpenters go hungry
till they made a pact with the termites despised
Chew a plank and we will not rob your larvae.
The desperate plan began with much joy
Before you knew the porch did fall
Crushing toad, carpenters, widows and boy
Freeing yellow flies to feast on them all!
Take heed before you align with termites
for dirty deeds
And best let the warty toad have a few
Times may be desperate in your greed
But seriously, how many yellow flies do
you need in a Carpenter stew?
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