Your eyes
the vibrancy of the leaves
in late spring.
Your presence
the flight
of the newly risen butterfly,
first sight,
first flight.
Your beauty
the glory of Nature
flowing
forever shown
true.
Your fingers
touch my heart,
my soul,
my essence…
Your love heals me.
Your love makes me smile.
Inside…
and out.
Looking up
He saw the man staring down at him
The resemblance was uncanny
His mood changed at once
From confusion to fright
From dimness to darkest night
Lost in the moment
Frozen in this sight
He stilled his breath
He gulped for life
An instant’s choice
The fate of life
Looking down
He saw the man staring up at him
He laughed in that particularly evil way
The reaper had taught him so long ago
The paralyzed man was seeking
Was struggling for the comfort of a breath
Denying the impossible truth
That he was so near death
He laughed again
In spite of the view
That held him caught
In perspective new
Looking up
He begged for another chance
Why is the messenger upon me?
Is this the final dance?
The reaper bared his sickle
Time could wait no more
He readied for the final cut
Prepared for this next chore
An instant of indecision
Stopped his hand in flight
Remembering the moment
Caught in a flicker of light
He handed the blade to the other
And the other wasted no time
Sliced into the messenger
And leapt into sublime
Forever destiny held
The reaper’s son lives on
First kill was his maker
Ascension of the spawn
Colors of delight
Flickering on the breeze
Faster than lightning
Quick as a sneeze
Zipping about
Joy in the air
Innocent flight
Fluttering affair
Like a soft morning giggle
Knowing and sure
Perfection in flight
Noble and pure
Angels and fairies
Gasp at the sight
Blue dragonflies
Beautiful flight
Under the deepest sea
To the top of the highest peak
In everything we know
And everything we seek
In river and valley and stream
In the wings and the butterfly’s flight
In the song and the smell of the meadow
And the sound of an infant’s delight
In the taste of a hot cup of tea
And the flavor of honey so sweet
In the smell of a bouquet of blossoms
And the sight of a field of flowing wheat
In all that we see, touch and taste
In every new thought and old sound
You’re there when we choose to believe
In all things, dear God, you are found
inspired by A Course in Miracles, workbook lesson 29
Drop of the cool rain
Touches the dying leaf
Tree bows under the weight
Breezes start to blow
Dark seasons begin
Birds returning flight
Looking toward the great cold north
Winter’s dawning blight
Inevitability of nature
Ebbs and flows of time
Circle of instantaneous healing
Peaking new moon’s light
