Reverie

Seated Woman, 1915 by Rik Wouters (1882-1916)

Time rebounds in dabs of paint
Watery sun soaks through space
Sensations blur
Colors seep
Diminishing lines
Reflections slur
Your hands, your face
Gaze untendered
Unbristled, still
A warm attention
Encompassing all
Formidable will
Probing memory
Dark sublime
Time rebounds in dabs of paint.


Written for D'verse, WhimsyGizmo's Quadrille (44 words)
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Our Life, His Work: A Parable

When I first saw, “Servant,” the #JusJoJan prompt for today, the first thought that popped into my head was, “Christ Jesus,” and then the words of Phiippians 2:5-11*(see below). My quandary? M’s prompt word: “Twin-engine turbines.” But it proved to be a blessing in disguise as it gave me the shape of the story: a parable. Serendipity!

Our Life, His Work: A Parable

What are you making, child? the Servant asked.
Everywhere metal sheets and rotor blades lay in a tangle of wires.
See this twin-engine turbine? The boy held up a photo. My 3-D printer makes it simple.
Simple, eh?
The boy looked around before answering.
-Well, it’ll just take a few days, maybe weeks …. maybe months …. H
is voice trailed away. It looked simpler when I got started. But somewhere along the way, I lost track of what I was meant to do.
He took in the tangled mess around him and finally the shiny aircraft in his photograph. His face fell.
Well, now, said the Servant, it will be a grand thing when it’s done. Maybe you could use a little help. Mine, for example.
The boy looked up, his face suddenly alight with hope and renewed confidence.
Really? Will you help? Please.
The Servant looked down at the expectant face, his own lit with Love.
It’s why I came, child.


Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. Therefore God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.

Philippians 2: 5-11(ESV)

Michelle's January 3, 2021 Writing Prompt: "Twin-engine turbines"
Linda's Just Jot It for January 3rd, "Servant"

“She said if a red fox had crossed somewhere, that area was safe”

When I left her yesterday
the black was in her hair
the gold was in her eyes
and she spoke of fathers
and unmourned sons
but now she freezes the air
like a stray from bygone forests
and primordial paths
looking at me like a traveler
she’d warned before
of hazardous roads
and one in particular
where red foxes
appear to startle the unwary
from perilous paths
and slipping slopes of memory
but for the shibboleth:
Mother?
You’re safe.

I somehow missed posting on this prompt from Sarah of dVerse who chose quotes from a book for us to use as poem titles.
"She said if a red fox had crossed somewhere, that area was safe" was the one I chose. 
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Image credit: https://www.pexels.com/photo/mother-and-daughter-on-grass-1683975/

Of Belugas and Mercies in the New Year

Come, magical sprites of sea, land, and air
Dreamlifters that transport us far from care
Belugas, or bluebells, or a child and a mare
My speech to you is dire and fair:

Dire, because of last year’s dismal fare
Of health and crises that cause us to beware
Threat of contagion from death’s lair;

Fair, because your songs lay bare
The beauties of God’s mercies and care
Shown in his Son whom we boldly dare
Address as our brother, Lord and Savior,
Whose love we eagerly want to share
Aware that we can rejoice in this new year
With all those whose burdens he helps to bear.

Michelle's January 2021 Writing Prompts: "Belugas and dreamlifters"
Linda's JusJoJan Prompt, "Speech"
Image credit: Pexels.com

Spatial Encounter

Hubble Telescope Image

I am not averse to reimaginations
Given you walked out of my conversation
As a noetic effect of its distillation

I am not chained to inharmonious juxtapositions
When salubrious angels gather in celebration
Of a desire prayed and given manifestation

I am simply thankful for your gravitation
Towards me, bindingly, irradiate sub-atomic fusion
Where once I envisioned only solitary annihilation

Yet this I wonder, and this in never-ending fascination
How in moments your eyes gray meet my brown it’s recreation
Of a space-time-matter continuum of conflagration

For dVerse's "Poetics:Look into my Eyes"
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Common-Place Jotting: Shakespeare, St. Paul

Common-Place or “Locus Communis” — a place to remember

Sonnet 73: That Time of Year (Shakespeare)

That time of year thou mayst in me behold
When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang
Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,
Bare ruin’d choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.
In me thou see’st the twilight of such day
As after sunset fadeth in the west,
Which by and by black night doth take away,
Death’s second self, that seals up all in rest.
In me thou see’st the glowing of such fire
That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,
As the death-bed whereon it must expire,
Consum’d with that which it was nourish’d by.
This thou perceiv’st, which makes thy love more strong,
To love that well which thou must leave ere long.

Therefore we do not lose heart.

Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day.

For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all.

So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.

2 Corinthians 4:16-18 NIV
By faith we understand that the universe was created by the word of God, so that what is seen was not made out of things that are visible. (Hebrews 11:3 )

City of Peace

Written for Rochelle's Friday Fictioneers 
Word count: 100 words or less
PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields 
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PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

City of Peace

     “What are you thinking?” Avram asks me gently as we walk in the shadows of the old city.
     “’O, Jerusalem, Jerusalem!’”1 I quote. “Why so much suffering, Avram, the blood that has flowed across the centuries into this day?”
     “Our hands bear that guilt.”
     “And sickness, earthquakes, floods?”
     “Do you wonder nature suffers as part of the judgment on us?”
     “The curse!” I snort.
     Avram speaks quietly. “The Maker of the Universe has not left us without blessings, of which He is the foremost, or redemption, because of His love.”
     “I only see hatred.”
     “Then that is all you will find.”


1Luke 13:34 — “O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often would I have gathered your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!

Psalm 69:32
When the humble see it they will be glad;
you who seek God, let your hearts revive.

Acts 17:26-27
And he made from one man every nation of mankind to live on all the face of the earth, having determined allotted periods and the boundaries of their dwelling place, that they should seek God, and perhaps feel their way toward him and find him. Yet he is actually not far from each one of us ….

A Perfect Romance

Art by Zurab Martiashvili

“Am I loved?” she asked wonderingly,
throwing back hair, sultry under silken shawl
scrutinizing her groomed shimmering form.
He walked glancingly past a mirror
then stopped to take a more admiring look.
“Darling?” Reluctantly she turned from
her reflection against the dark sky;
he tore himself from his dashing figure.
“How asinine, dear heart,” he ejaculated.
“To love oneself is most divine!”
Embracing by mirror and window
they stood, idols with eyes of glass.

Jude's The Saturday Symphony #14: "Romance" 
Sammi's Weekend Writing Prompt: use "Asinine" in prose or poem with exactly 74 words
Cyranny's Word of the Day Challenge: "sultry"

Turning Back Loneliness

Written for Paula’s Thursday Inspo #77: theme is lonely and the above image

I’m lonely without You, Lord,
though all the world be mine
the city’s blue-gray skyline
the starry twinkling host

I need to know you near me
Your love-light in my eye
the fragrance of your Spirit
the sweetness of your Word

somewhere I took a wrong turn
I chased my own desire
a world of smug contentment
but lacking peace of mind

I know you never left me
so I feel you all the more
when I’ve turned my back to you
your tender love ignored

I don’t know why I do this
leave you, then come back
as if I never knew You
as if my faith were dead

returning then I seek You
repenting of time lost
joyous to talk to You, Lord,
and walk with You again.

Sky-verse To You

I’m skating it, free-wheeling it
Somersaulted skyward by the infinite jest of it
That I could be winging it, barrel-rolling
Like Icarus to the very summit of it
Unburned by it, cascading liberating fall of it
Caught in it, unbound through it, Your love.

For dVerse's Quadrille #112: The Sky’s the Limit (in 44 words)
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