If it Were Me?

Would I have been in a boat
Would I find you sleeping
Aroused would you calm the sea
Waves lying prostrate
Gently rocked by the wind’s lullaby?

Would I have lost a brother
Could I wait four days
To watch you resurrect
His decaying body
From a sealed grave?

If I had been caught in adultery
When the sentence was death
As I huddled in fear
Searching for breath

Would you stand before
My accusers well knowing
My sin was so real
While theirs you were showing?

The greatest display
Of healing and pardon
Was when you went to the cross
When my heart was hardened

You never once told me
I was not worthy of love
You sacrificed all
To show me the Father above

And now no matter
The storms that arise
Or the ones I may lose
Or the hate in some eyes

Give me strength to believe
In the hope of your Word
Give me faith to continue
To serve you as Lord

Always keep me knowing
I am loved as much as anyone else



dVersepoetspub.com  No prompt given today.  Just my own. It’s easy to read accounts of miracles in the gospels. It’s a different story when you are faced with things. You realize your own humanity.






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A Token I’ll Never Misplace



I look into her face and see his features before me like a mirror reflecting a mirror. She doesn’t realize it. She is not to be compared to another. She is however, a token of one lost before her she never met. As she grows, his image never leaves. His eyes never saw, my eyes never close. Resemblance keeps love alive.
Petals drop silent
Other flowers following
Carry the fragrance

dVerse prompt is token. I have misplaced many things over the years, but the most important tokens are those in the heart and in this case genetics, of which fascinates me more and more.

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Harbingers of Spring

Harbingers of Spring

The last two weeks of February we had a couple of 70° days, followed by cold rains. I hear there were sightings of bears. They were awakened early by the sun. Anything like me, I bet they are still awake. Friday we had a nor’easter come through with wet snow and high winds. There’s another on its way on Wednesday. March is here.

Today we put out the suet blocks on the empty trees for the woodpeckers and we have filled the bird feeder. I am thinking this may be the last round. Spring is on all fours and hungry. They won’t retreat. Neither will the growth both above and deep in the ground. Onward, upward they come.

Like a timid child
Spring buds under winters cloak
Softly emerging

Haibun Monday at dVerse. Prompt is:

One of the most promising signs of a soon-to-be spring is the appearance of tiny buds on the trees. In Japanese the word pending is implied in the Kigo, No Ko Me--tree buds. The bud holds so much potential, the possibility of the tree becoming all that is was created to be.

Anticipation, hope, wonder, mystery are among many possible human responses to the appearance of buds on trees and how easy it is to find parallels in our own lives. As with most seasonal Kigos, there is a metaphoric richness contained within.

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Letter to God

Dear God,

It is twilight, that hour between dusk and dark

A transition for sun’s waning and moon’s resurgence

A stillness in the air, street lights turning on

Birds turning in, silent of their song

But we don’t always notice

Nestled am I as my day too ends
Today I read your letter…again.
Do you remember the times I would turn its pages
looking for something in it to make sense then

They told me it was written for me
While also for everyone else

I hated being so all alone
You stand in full exposure
I hated more being cloned
Which one is the worst phobia

There was no relevance in its histories
only confusion in its mysteries.

And then one day I asked how do I read this letter

I decided to talk to the author and now I see much better

When you heard my plea, you placed yourself in my heart
That’s when I saw you in your words you solemnly impart

So now, after all these years, I am writing my letter to you
Not to tell you what you don’t know
but to thank you for knowing it all
Unfolding and folding your words to me

Like you transition my mornings and evenings

I wonder if you will read this more than once


dVerse wants us to write a letter. Seems the oldest forms of poetry were in letter form. I didn’t know that. Sorry about the spacing. It messed up a bit.
3 things
Who am I writing to
Where I am writing from
What I want to tell them



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A Riddle

Silhouettes and shadows tell tales
Bending light makes colors emerge
A lightning sword cuts through an opaque sky
Twilight softens our eyes

Today at dVerse there is no prompt word,  rather a poem that explains a feeling,  concept or idea without telling what it is. What do you think?

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Keeping Embers Aglow

Expelled from the womb
A seed birthed by unrestrained passion
Ignited and inflamed
Breeds more of the same
An ever burning fire
That none can quench
So we think the answer is
Destroy the seed
Even gardeners plant in season
Rejoicing in good fruit

Quadrille Monday at dVersepoetspub.com  the prompt is burn and this is my pro-life poem. A quadrille is a poem of exactly 44 words excluding the title.





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The word for fiveminutefriday.com is beauty


A poem

What do I conjure up in my mind?
Who do I summon
When I feel ugly
I see the crooked jaw
The one eye drooping
As I snap the picture to send
If I could capture my redeemed soul in the lens
If my heart were on paper and not mere words
If my emotions were silenced in turmoil
Then would my eyes know beauty
That’s a question, not an answer
True beauty is seen through blood
Sacrificial, redeeming blood
Not even in the beaten and scarred body
Not even in the sunken eyes and ripping flesh
Not even in the creation of the earth
For it also groans as it dies
But we try to clean it
It stains our perfect image



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