In hard and troubled days we groan,
We pray the Lord will shorten the time;
If I must walk this path alone,
Until I die, toward God I’ll climb.
The Daily Prompt suggested the word “climbing.”
The wood’s uneven grain gives strength and beauty,
Its wavy lines in faded tones, and knotty,
From constant winds and heady wilds for growth—
Here, too, are hid God’s secret ways of faith.
How small we seem in God’s great scheme,
With billions of stars and drops and creatures;
The Creator knows the few he chose,
He sees our feats and fears and features.
Love is kind, refuses to be rude,
It feeds upon God’s saving truth for food,
Shrinks not from sharing news for Jesus’ likeness,
But humbly — softly — gently — pierces darkness.
—J. Randal Matheny © 2015
The inspiration for this quatrain was Jacob Rutledge’s
post and my report on it at BNC, about love that shuns rudeness.
by J. Randal Matheny
Travelers have to travel light, and write small.
Moves us powerfully fear of loss,
From it both child and elder act.
We loathe the unknown, and chasms we’ll cross
To keep our enclosed world intact.
Cloudburst offering is a bit of an adaptation on the meter, but, yes, it’s a limerick. Just the right size for the fast pace we’re in these days in our American wanderings and out of our routine. Continue reading
Spontaneous folk despise routines,
Complain when things repeat the same;
To stick their fork in meat and greens
Three times a day, they have no shame.
With shudders, noise, and billowed smoke
The train shoots down the rails,
A blur with every steamy stroke,
This life of hills and vales.
Inspired by John H.’s
tip on Diaspora to carry an umbrella today because of the falling satellite, “Oh, Chicken Little”:
Oh, Chicken Little, the sky is falling,
And satellite pieces from space;
Is Jesus, too, about to come calling,
To raise us from this planet’s face?
My good-night couplet from last night, “I Sleep”:
Here are three more quatrains from the UPLift
group on Facebook. These little poems tackle some serious and heavy subjects. THE ISLAND HEAVED
The island heaved, and Haiti fell,
The country thrown on hands and knees;
In face of death, the fearful swell,
While aid arrived across the seas. Continue reading