Dust

picasso -red.jpg

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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wind

Benson.jpg
Where on the earth
Does the cold wind end?
I should wish to be,
Right where it quits,
All tired from blowing with
Low pressure fits.
Does wind just fall
Upon awaiting ground,
Continuing to death,
Without a sound?
To join once more
In softly seen air –
Gently brush your cheek,
Muss up your hair.
The wind shall kiss
In quiet delay
The forehead of sweetness,
In love’s sweet obey.

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

tumult

signori sun

Loriann Signori

Away the rushing water sends,
Beckoned limits crushing ends.
Tumult stirs me in my sleep,
Drowning, falling, abysmal deep.
For just a moment if thoughts surmise,
Sudden hope shall draw my eyes.
Off on horizon’s razor line,
Penetrating light of eternal shine
Comforting call surrounds in peace
As God Himself instills release.

(c) 2017 rickstassi