candle in your soul

A Petal Artist: me

Artist: me

And always I shall listen for You,
in the still of night and morning’s dew
O joy that rises with the sun,
it is to Your arms I now will run.

for trust and hope clasping hands
are the calming breeze – that faith commands.
my angst-ridden soul begs begone O fear,
knowing Love eternally near…

I look at you with godly adoration –
your eyes draw light – emit elation
I try to peer into your core
your guarded eyes permit a little, no more.

but I know your stillness, it runs deep
lying in your restful angelic sleep.
and run no more in circles, I,
no broken heart nor tears drawn nigh.

Because for whom do i cry for tonight?
an elated soul that draws sweet light?
more fool I to spurn my trust
that also He has raised you from the dust.

so your eyes, an entrance to your heart
little child, I dare not part
from one who deeply wants love real
I’ll try, I’ll try,  I’ll try to feel.

“bright and shining” is your name –
your contemplative  sight explores the same
and I strain my eyes to see you more
O your gaze, your eyes implore.

God ordained we should meet
and a life to spend just at His feet
so I will trust the solace your eyes emit
for I know a candle in your soul is lit.


conceding petals

"Bend in the Epte" Claude Monet

“Bend in the Epte”
Claude Monet

in my continued progress,
time is relentless.
opting temporarily cessation,
to extend roots
and grow a bit.
i’ll be like a flower with
petals lithe, color-bright,
for another small season.
but O my soul soon writhing –
the struggle and bleating
of this one lost, wandering…
Would green grass illude?
How fast the slope entraps.
Spellbound in temptation
The darkness flows overhead
like a cool, fast river.
i have seen respite
yet still I will cool my feet
in those rushing waters
and end up
with a heart in quandary.
pleading for simplicity
and getting a string-pull
like a marionette
straightening up –
conceding petals will dry
and so my feet as well
and on i go.


cry for love

van gogh – close-up

a world of eyes peering out
linked with suspicions from deep within
that a thread will lead to a greater good –
objective posture in a subjective season.

your complex mind devises and propels great might
but can deep thought fathom beginning and end
and wrestle with infinite stars at night?
or even a child’s laugh or stranger’s smile
or tracks converging to a point –
certainly limited…

is good all you want? maybe wisdom too –
a trail of knowledge is no more than
layers of sediment really…
infinite wisdom and haughty spirit,
hopeful, you grasp your own reality
as if the radius point of a circle
paying no heed to other abounding circles
who are also right, charitable, and good.

is it possible to look beyond stars
and move all radius points onto a space
large enough for precisely One point?
can you fathom absolute
and discard conventional free thought
that really only begs more
from the night?
an infinite universe will never give more
than a wanting child crying for love
cry for love now and find eternity.

rick stassi

…and snow drifts

Cezanne: “Melting Snow”

And snow drifts mind the wind’s command,
Me, tired of such demand.
Outside looking in, to you, periodic calls beckon start.
But inside looking out, abiding now, my soul shan’t part.
For in this place my perspective is new
Infinite and lucid, cloudless skies blue.
And abide, I must, the table prepared.
Bread of life, a life more than spared.
Prosperity, joy, and wisdom never shall wane.
For in Your house I shall remain

rick stassi

tell me


“A Flower…or two”
Artist: me

The temporal darkness raises fears –
Fears developed over time
Always rearing their ugly shadows
Catching me off guard often
When I least expect them.
Even set upon such solid footing
I can still slip.
But I should give myself a break…
I won’t fall. I just won’t. I can’t.
For strength is expected … from a horizontal perspective,
But weakness accepted from the vertical – no, surrounding watchful eyes.
So easily forgotten the peace inside – yesterday.
Today, now enveloped in darkness
I seek to hide. But where?
But how does one run from one’s self?
Run and leap into the sea lest I get wet from the rain?

That is me.
I cannot see the forest
’cause the trees, sometimes, distract.
Trite yes, but no less true.
Yet raging water greater than me.
joined with peaceful calm at full avail…
Moon draws tides as my darkness wanes.
Once again I hear your voice.
I don’t always listen –
I ebb and flow…

Just hold my hand and tell me it is alright


so lovely this time

"Seascape" Artist:  Pierre-Auguste Renoir

Pierre-Auguste Renoir

Sweet is this moment,
This moment right now
Walking on stretches of sand.
Sea lapping at bare feet in biting mist –
Hands, clasped, unified spirits
Beautifying moments like these, these moments unplanned.

Without looking to see you, nor breaking my gaze
From lost horizons I hear each of your words
That pour from your heart.
They scatter like birds taking flight
But then light on one point inside me
Where there is peace that shan’t part.

Love’s fragrance abounds
In the air that I breathe
Dispelling conviction on melody anew.
With affection waxing, the sea swallows the sun,
So lovely this time, minutes eternal, surreal,
All else really means nothing, as everything is you.


at river’s edge


“The Banks of the River Epte at Giverny” Monet

At river’s edge we sat and wept.
The river is life! Yet so many slept.
Restless hearts hate the choices availed,
Against God’s wisdom, man’s reason paled.

At river’s edge we sat and wept.
Infinite midday yet in darkness crept.
Youth is a time, when time seems everlasting.
But soon ebbing light makes shadows long casting.

At river’s edge we sat and we sang.
For eternal life sates endless heart-felt pang.
And flowing inside we know of true life,
Long passed the pain of stubborn, piercing strife.

At river’s edge we sat and prayed,
For a decision for God is a true decision made.
And as selfish reason was our stronghold for a day,
We now see no reason for further delay.

So at the river, we drink of His word.
Afterall, it is we who have heard.
And all the way God holds us near,
We weep for the lost, but rejoice in a tear.

Psalm 137:1