Dust

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Picasso

Aligned with vanity,
So much disappears
That holds hope;
That leads thought;
That blows away.
The dust knows not
The wind nor the ground –
Making peace with each
once, in a while.
Can it be my soul?
A foot on the rung
That Ascends,
Temporal to eternal.
Or, the heart of faith?
Firmly grounded in perspective
Greater than a day.

How shall I be?
Who am I now?

The heavenly voice
Engraved on my heart,
Shall ever be
The place where my soul
Is firmly cleaved.
And I shall be revived.

“My soul clings to the dust;
Revive me according to Your word.”
Ps 119 25,26

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future gaze

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I wonder if I’d found some way,

to circumvent those fruitless tries,

truly to avoid –

by some degree,

a pocketful of

deceitful lies.

 

When these questions might’ve been asked,

subject seldom was ever raised,

but now answers –

take life’s past portions

and blend with present’s

future gaze.

greater will

hassam

Childe Hassam

I wonder in color,
dream in vivid hue.
count blessings on hands and feet,
awaken amid waxing blue

The days ever so bitter,
the time ever so lost.
all safely tucked away now,
forgotten tattered and tossed.

Optism is the brighter way,
joy is better still.
when hope and trust in greater things,
are resting in Father’s will.

(c) 2018 Rick Stassi

Winter Rest

cezanne

Cezanne

a flight from sensibility
a rapid demise of reason
departure from my many ways
that leave me this stark this season

upon landscape in tarnished brown
settles winter’s quiet way
soon the nadir of sunlit journey
the peaceful shortest day

where do I in my mind go
a quest of contented bliss
greet in joy O wintertime
a time for somber remiss

days soon depart from winter’s hold
as springtime taps on door
and resting now in candle light
God’s love certain evermore.

(c) 2017 Rick Stassi