Lost Heart

I cannot find my heart
In the hustle and bustle and hassle and rustle…
Though it’s not even Christmas, I fear!
I cannot find my heart
In illusion, confusion, profusion, delusion,
For its voice is too quiet to hear.

In the silence I wait,
When I can remember,
And call to the Spirit inside.
I cannot find my heart
Unless I am seeking
Rediscovering what’s always been mine.


For the Fifth Anniversary celebration at
dVerse,
where Walt asks us to draw inspiration from this quote:
“I am cold, even though the heat of early summer is adequate. I am cold because I cannot find my heart.” ~Sebastian Barry from his novel A Long, Long Way

Pink Flamingo

Many, if not all of us at one time or another, live in silent desperation. We feel we can’t tell others what is really going on, so we (try to) hide behind a smiling face, a sense of humor, evasive answers, or in this case, a pink flamingo. May this song be a reminder that we’re all in this together, and there is a Light of Truth behind our identities and expectations!

Instrument: Brio – Red Cedar Concert Ukulele

Refrain:
I hid my sins behind
A pink flamingo
So people think things go
The way I wish they would.
But when I take the time
To see the light inside me,
I know it gently guides me
To a place that’s real and good.

1. The paradise I got
Is not the paradise I wanted.
And the love I thought would last,
It slid right down the drain.
And I just couldn’t face the facts
Of the faces and opinions.
So I held it all inside me
And tried not to complain.
Refrain:

2. The picture that I see
Is not the picture that I wanted.
And the things I need to do,
It seems they never do get done.
And I just couldn’t face the facts
Of the faces and opinions.
So I tried to smooth it over
And paint a better one.
Refrain:

‘Cause that flamingo statue can fall over.
And all the stuff behind it can pour out.
My insecurities are like that cover.
God sends the tides and washes them all out.

So no more hiding sins behind
A pink flamingo
So people think things go
The way I wish they would.
‘Cause when I take the time
To see the light inside me,
It always gently guides me
To a place that’s real and good.

A place that God provides me
Where I understand His good.

Common Threads (The Weaver’s Song)

Instrument: Tempo – Seagull Excursion Folk Acoustic Guitar

O don’t expect our threads to look the same.

1. As cultures, families, and friends,
We have some common threads for sure.
They give us things to talk about and help our bonds to form.
But no matter what we think and say
Or do that looks the same,
Our common threads are different players in a special game.
So
Refrain:

2. Religions, hobbies, work, and life,
They give us common threads to hold,
Connecting us through chaos and confusion in the cold.
But no matter what we pick and choose
That looks the same to you,
We add a special touch to our corner of the truth.
So
Refrain:

3. There is one Spirit in us all.
It’s the common thread that’s real;
The God who weaves our tapestry and lets us live and feel.
And no matter what we find in life,
Our threads are in His hand.
The Spirit won’t unravel, and the work is always grand!
But
Refrain:

No, don’t expect our threads to look the same.

Refrain:
Don’t expect our threads to look the same
As they intertwine with others in play.
Like everyone in fact,
They travel on a path.
But we see and hear and touch and know within a narrow frame.
So don’t expect our threads to look the same.

Related

Lifeweaving

How to Weave a Tapestry

Shuttle: A Tool for Change

The Weaver’s Prayer

Beloved

I am God’s Beloved!

A song for meditation and affirmation.

Instrument: Tempo – Seagull Excursion Folk Acoustic Guitar

1. Beloved,
Remember I know your heart.
I was yours before the start.
I love your tender heart.

2. Beloved,
Remember I fill your soul
With water that keeps you whole.
I love your thirsty soul.

You are the Light that shines within this world.
You are eternal Word.
You are my body made to do and feel.
You are my perfect work.

3. Beloved,
Remember I made your mind.
Seek me there, and you will find.
I love your brilliant mind.

You are the Light that shines within this world.
You are eternal Word.
You are my body made to do and feel.
You are my perfect work.

Repeat 1.

Beloved,
Beloved,
My Beloved.

The Scent of Pages

The scent of pages takes me back
To story time when, as a child,
I reveled in the sound of tales
Of lands far off and friends nearby.

The pages turn and years, they pass,
But even still my nose can tell
The difference in the newspaper
Or magazine, and books loved well.

The scent of pages takes me back
To brighter days and better times.
I catch it now and breathe a smile;
The pages sent an open mind!


Grace is hosting Tuesday Poetics at
dVerse,
where the challenge is to write about “scent”. Though I can’t read printed books, I’ve always been drawn to pages–stinky newspaper, slick magazines, old, well-worn books with cracked covers… I knew them all, both by touch and by scent. I still love paging through a book, not to read, but to take it in and remember there really is a world of possibilities right here!

Father in this World

In my Father’s house are many mansions: if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you.

Believest thou not that I am in the Father, and the Father in me? the words that I speak unto you I speak not of myself: but the Father that dwelleth in me, he doeth the works.
–John 14:2,10 (KJV)

Being a human father is never easy! As a woman I can’t pretend to understand a father’s feelings, trials, circumstances, responsibilities – just to name a few. But I know we have a Father, the one who created us and did not just drop us here to fend for ourselves, but who makes his home within each of us. My prayer is that every father on earth will turn to the Heavenly Father within for strength, wisdom, understanding, peace, and above all, love.

Happy Father’s Day!

Instrument: Brio – Red Cedar Concert Ukulele

Refrain:
There are many, many, many, many
Bodies in this world.
And each one is the image of
The Father’s love unfurled.
We may not realize it
Through the mind’s unending swirl.
But the Father makes His home
In everybody in this world.

1. If it were not so,
How could we live?
Without love to show,
What would we give?
Refrain:

2. If it were not so,
Christ couldn’t be.
Without love to show,
There’d be no you or me.
But
Refrain:

3. If it were not so,
He’d have no house.
Without love to show,
No mansions to give out.
But
Refrain:

So remember you’re a home
For the Father in this world.

Related

Father of the Blues

Father Made Flesh

Your Father Knows

The Parenthood of God

Wordplay

There is power in ev-e-ry word,
Or at least, that is what I have heard.
But believe it or not,
Those who told me forgot!
And the speeches they preach are absurd!


Written for
dVerse,
though I’m not sure it qualifies. The meter is fun, like all
Limericks,
and a nice break from my usual, more serious meter and subjects!

Still Life

I am the sculpture;
I’ll come right out and tell you that.
Which one?
I can’t say, because you don’t really care.

I was stone before I became this statue.
I am still stone.
And I will be stone even thereafter,
If (Merciful heavens!) I am chiseled to bits.

I told you I am the sculpture,
But I lied.
Yes, I, too, can create a ruse!
How do you like that?
The same way you like it when people point at you
Or put you in their neatly labeled box
And say, “THIS is who you are!”

You are not THAT,
And I am not the statue alone.
Heck! I am not even stone!
I Am Life!

You don’t think so;
You don’t believe what I say.
But did you believe me then,
When I said I am the sculpture?

No matter.
You can have your opinions,
Thoughts,
And beliefs!
These are problems I do not have-
Opinions,
Thoughts,
Beliefs.

But I am still Life!
I was before the stone was.
I was before the sculpture was.
I am now,
In the stone and the rendered statue.
And I will be
Long after the sculpture is no more,
Long after the stone has eroded.
I am there.

But lest you leave this conversation all freaked out on me,
Let me come right out and tell you that
You are Life, too!
Stoned or not,
Oops did I say stoned?
Ha ha even the stones have a sense of humor!

Anyway, no matter the state
In which you find yourself, Grasshopper,
You are Life!
So live on,
For you are sculpture and stone,
Artist and observer,
Creator and creation!

Now step lively,
Rock the boat,
And live Life with the Spirit that You Are!

Oh, before you go?
Tell that painting over there
That it is still life, too.

Thanks!


For
dVerse | Poetics – Chisel Me a Conversation.
I had fun writing this!

Smiles

Smiles spilling all around,
Saturating driest ground,
Calming down with softest light
Every fiery word that bites;
Laying in a bed of peace
Where Hope blooms with gentle ease.
And in the morning glow of Dawn,
We look and find new smiles have grown!


Another for
dVerse,
with thanks to Grace for her inspiration!