Rain

A storm scrubbed earth's face
and left the promise of fruit
shining in the sun

May heaven's rain
wash my soul of dust
and let the Son shine through.

Seedy life

Modern haiku ignores the seventeen sylables and expresses itself in as few words as possible. Hence this:
      
      From a dying acorn,
                   a forest.

In thinking about that acorn this more traditional seventeen sylable form:

Today an acorn
fell, carrying life sent from
the beginning oak.

A few more thoughts:

A dying seed or a sprout?
Which do I see?

He said:
"Except a seed dies it remains alone.
In losing your life is eternity."
But why do I tremble at losing my life
What misery awaits me, what pain of death?
I only see a dying seed.

In dying the seed gives birth to it's purpose
of being a tree and producing fruit.
Why shudder to die to self
and allow the dynamic,
fruitful, eternal life of God
to be expressed through me
and become the tree I was meant to be.

In case you're wondering what is in the photo~~it's a sprouting apple seed.

Bluebirds

Today's haiku:

Rain slips off feathers                                                       

and leaves no mark, let cursing      
words slip off my heart.       


I've been watching the bluebirds this winter. They posed for some pictures.
 

No more room at the table.          

            Sit and wait your turn.

 Who said I need a bath?

I'm divin' in!

You're not clean yet!

What are you lookin' at?

Shower stall.

Doesn't everyone sing in the shower?

Blow dried.

The Lion Tamer

(This started in haiku form but it didn't want to stay there)

Sated, she washes

and waits, till lusting for flesh
she ambushes me.

I creep, like a fly
with plucked wings, to the shelter
of the Lion Tamer.

Another resolution chomped to bits!
I've used every formula I know

to keep that lion from getting me.

My knees are buckling
my arms are shaking
I'm gasping like a fish on dry land,
Mr. Lion Tamer, I quit!

How can He smile, even chuckle?
And that tree limb is talking!
"Do you see me turning

four shades of purple

trying to make a cherry

or a mulberry?

Or twisting till I'm nearly broken
trying to stay attached to the tree?
I just soak up the sun
and hang out with the tree
and fruit happens."

                                                   
Mr. Lion Tamer,
that sounds too easy.

Yep, My yoke is easy
and My burden is light.

Earth's Heartbeat

Haiku is a Japanese form of poetry; each poem has three lines, first line with five syllables, second line with seven syllables, third line with five syllables. Traditionally it is about the four seasons and/or nature. For a poetry class recently I wrote a set of four haiku.

A downy snow quilt

comforts a slumbering earth

as it's strength returns.            

Spring bursts from hiding

Flings rainbow colors with glee
Lures birds into song.

Long days of sunlight
Insects hum and fireflys dance
Earth is draped with green.

Earth yields her bounty
to hungry souls and retires
in lavish array.

Unfettered
She sat alone in a cell
with just 3 walls.

                                            

"Why do you stay there
unchained and free?
Come and fly with me!"

"Have you lost your mind?
Can't you see I'm a prisoner
shackled and barred?

"Well, are you blind?
There are no chains!
There are no bars!
You're free to go!"

She shook her head
and turned away
and then I saw
'twas fear that held her
shackled and barred
in a cell called "comfort zone".

But then came love
and the heart of love
enclosed her in it's circle;
unconditional,
unearned,
unending love.
Ahhhh....................at last!

"Do you still want me
to fly with you?
I may not be an eagle
but check out my new wings!
Whoohoooo!"

There is no need to fear
encircled by love
in the sunshine of grace
you are free to soar,
free to live,
free to love,
No strings attached!!!

Tattered Butterflies

We search for perfection.

In the grocery store
we look for
the perfect peach,
the spotless apple,
the freshest milk.

                                     

In a photograph
we look for
the colorful flower,
the delightful bird,
the captivating landscape,
the polished smile,
and especially
the flawless face.

Who looks for
the imperfect,
the blemished,
or unretouched
face?  

This photographer sought
that perfect butterfly:
bright fresh color,
clean lines, perfect form.
But I found old,
battle scarred,
tattered butterflies.

There's something to be said for those
who have been in battle and survived.

There's something to be said for those
who have grown old and wrinkled
and still they fly.

There's something to be said for those
who have been wounded
and still they love, they trust.

There's something to be said for the ordinary souls
who salt the earth with dynamic grace.

There's something to be said
for weakness,
for imperfection,
for simplicity.

Because~~
It's in our weakness His strength is completed
It's in our imperfection His perfection shines
It's in our childlikeness His kingdom comes.

"Come unto Me.......and I will give you rest."