Flow Freely on Me

To the tune of Adele, Go Easy on me: There is gold in His rivers They’ve been flowing through Bereshit forever I know there is hope in the healing Pishon waters I must bring myself to swim and be mikvehed in There’s no drowning in silence with Yeshua Messiah Oh, let me in! Flow easy … More Flow Freely on Me

Dandelion Seeds

  He said, “Gram’s, I picked this for you.” One small outstretched hand held one dandelion that had seen better days. No longer green– Its golden petals were now full of white powdered seeds. “Do you want me to blow it,” he said, with large three-year-old eyes that still see the wonder of God’s creation. … More Dandelion Seeds

Beauty for Ashes

I found this poem from last year and wanted to post it. Maybe you have felt the same things at times? I gathered all my strength and tried to raise up from the ashes. I held ashes in my hands and raised them up to Him “Here, take these ashes– I screamed!” “Give me beauty,” … More Beauty for Ashes

The Photograph

It hung there like a branch on a tree. The color? It was more of a brown, Like shoe leather and cream with orbs of splattered sunlight. The timeworn camera had captured a split second of special. We would call it a black and white photo today, but to suggest it had a quality of … More The Photograph

Bruised Plums #240

They were unpromising Words grated like cheese. Words reduced to small shreds. Words strung like pasta. Tossed like a salad Thrown together with a pinch of thyme And oregano The other morsels were small. Irritants Acidic Tomatoes, garlic, and onions Barely noticeable to the tall ones Their necks stretched out in the clouds. They see … More Bruised Plums #240

Hate is?

Hate is like a piece of yeast. It permeates and puffs up with satisfaction It says, “I am right!” I hold truth! I carry all knowledge! I will rebuke! It wipes its mouth with a napkin And still, the juice runs Hate dripping off chins Spilling over into diaper bins And storefront shelves Magazine covers, … More Hate is?

Pink Cotton Candy

“There’s always a time to shine,” she said, curling her bottom lip.“You need to let the light shoot out of your hair like cracked eggshells covered in glistening white yolks.” Sparkles. I pictured her hair standing up all over her head, illuminated and glistened like the moon draped over an armchair or a starfish on … More Pink Cotton Candy