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Archive for the ‘Poetry’ Category

Baby Face

561

Fingertip skim. Tracing light

Bridge to nose

Crescent of earth satelite

Lingering

a

Skin kiss

Drooped in sleeping

Declinated to eye-contour

Lashes, powder feathering

Shading

a

Babe rest

Snowball cheeks glowing softly in sync

Curving to dimpled Cupid bowls

Bloodwarmth blushing pink

Illustrating

a

God touch

Softest red, reflective with a sweet dew sheen

Poised to slightly part

                        Window for air breaths with life between

Promising

a

Babe awakening

A constellation sparkles in your face

Dazzling to my love-swooned stare

Perfect little sphere of grace

Igniting

a

Mother’s love

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File:Amy Carmichael with children.jpg

I am currently reading an abbreviated biography of Amy Carmichael. Inspired…a word that does little to capture the impression her living sacrifice (life) has made on me. I am eager to read more, more about her. I am already smitten with her poems, anecdotes and short devotions. A few of these rubies are included below:

“One can give without loving, but one cannot love without giving.”

 “It is a safe thing to trust Him to fulfill the desires which He creates.”  

“O Lamb of God, deliver me…

From subtle love of softening things,

From easy choices, weakenings,

(Not thus are spirits fortified,

Not this way went the Crucified)

From all that dims Thy Calvary

O Lamb of God, deliver me.”

“We say, then, to anyone who is under trial, give Him time to steep the soul in His eternal truth. Go into the open air, look up into the depths of the sky, or out upon the wideness of the sea, or on the strength of the hills that is His also; or, if bound in the body, go forth in the spirit; spirit is not bound. Give Him time and, as surely as dawn follows night, there will break upon the heart a sense of certainty that cannot be shaken.”

 

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Thread

The thread of a day reaches an end, severed.

The wetness dry, as it slips, final, from its needle’s eye.

How did the thread pattern the hours of this day?

Did vainly woven seconds vanish, a gift to the wind;

Minutes bound in waste, nothing created, only a frayed end?

 

Nothing unravels. Time is stitched and permanent.

Dawn births thread. This day, dew-wet and raw.

Thread it unveiled. Spit from soul and hand,

An applique sewn, colors seeping, fused with the Christ-image.

Spin grace, reflectant also of joy, full of toil. 

 

 

 

 

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Hate

Sons born of first man-seed

Daughters wet from womb of Eve

Children with a likeness-image

Have we not all one father?

 

God, as man, lay down

Skin ripped for man-flesh

All believing, accepted

All made one in God-union

 

 

These minds birth viscous conceptions

These mouths hiss putrid evil

These hands defile in violence

These hate with a cruel hatred

 

 

Bold as lions in righteousness

Shameless, Flint-set faces

Grace-owned and made fearless

Not forsaken, loved for justness

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Baby Face-Unfinished

 

Fingertip skim. Tracing light

Bridge to nose

Crescent of earth satelite

Lingering

Skin-kiss

 

Drooped in sleeping

Declinated to eye-contour

Lashes, powder feathering

Shading

Babe-rest

 

Snowball cheeks glowing softly in sync

Curving to dimpled Cupid bowls

Bloodwarmth blushing pink

Illustrating

 God-touch

 

 

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There are days when my heart leaves.
I count my blessings and the longing comes back from its reprieve.

All I immediately see is a picture and a name,
but I know it’s a calling just the same.

Lord, give me wisdom, give me sight.
They are precious, infused with Your light.

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