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Breezes of fairy wings flutter ash, willow oak
and bamboo leaves,
Chase final days of March off stage.
A large willow branch, fallen by a storm,
dominates left garden area
Daffodils, as full of tears as I, hang
heavy heads along the garden walk.
Hyacinth and crocus have faded and
Candytuft is on stage.
A robin, contemplates bird affairs –
Planning a nest and worm stalking.
Far right, deep-pink blooms of the red bud
peek through a dogwood tree curtain.
Tree shadows appear and disappear, like
dancers cued by the sun, which is
Intent on dispelling storm-clouds and warming
and drying the damp earth.
Watching this drama, after last night’s
violent storm, I know
My tears will dry, my hope return and joy
will fill my spirit once again.
Beauty, like spring flowers will replenish
My life’s stage once more
I pray for gentle rains and for safety –
when other storms arrive.
~ Sybil Austin Skakle
Contemplating a Leaf
Sybil Austin Skakle
Green and slender
Graceful and small
What good are you
Plucked from a bush?
My instructions are
To be present with God
As I observe you.
Thicker than a rose leaf
Not shiny, not dull
Longer than the rose leaf
You’ve a subtle aroma
Designed by God
for some purpose
leaf and I are alike
Before I am harvested
I hope to add beauty
and provide oxygen
for the lives of others
“Yes, I love you Lord!”
Where are the sheep
Hebrews 12:18-24 (RSV)
For you have not come to what may be touched, a blazing fire, and darkness, and gloom, and a tempest, and the sound of a trumpet, and a voice whose words made the hearers entreat that no further messages be spoken to them. For they could not endure the order that was given, “If even a beast touches the mountain, it shall be stoned.” Indeed, so terrifying was the sight that Moses said, “I tremble with fear.” But you have come to Mount Zion and to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and to innumerable angels in festal gathering, and to the assembly of the first-born who are enrolled in heaven, and to a judge who is God of all, and to the spirits of just men made perfect, and to Jesus, the mediator of a new covenant, and to the sprinkled blood that speaks more graciously than the blood of Abel.
ARRIVAL
I found myself upon a mountain, quaking -
was it I, was it the earth beneath my tired feet?
I heard a roaring – was it lions? Yes, it must be.
Long had lions prowled my heart’s den,
breathing accusations through every pacing day.
Nearly blind was I in muffling shadow of the Law,
the ceaseless overcast condition of my soul.
A fire, too – I had known the scorch of wilderness,
the wildfire of temptation, the searing welts of sin,
and shrank from such a burning as I knew would
have to come
if God were just.
A trumpet, tuning up, shrill with holiness, announced
my arrival at the Mount of Judgment.
I raised my eyes…Oh Jesus, can it be? Zion?
the Everest of mercy?
The quaking – now I see: even throne rooms shake
when saintly feet get dancing to a trumpet jubilee!
The roaring? Angel party-goers shouting holy thank-yous
to our Host.
The fire – a hearth to warm my coming,
The shadow? The shade of your right hand, oh Precious Christ,
whose blood has bought
and brought me home……
I turned to see a Lion
and behold, the Lamb.
Copyright: Betsey Mulloy
1992
All New
Can a leopard change his spots? Can a briar begin to bloom?
Could my ferocious heart ever give forth sweet perfume?
“Never!” says the world, “Never!” says my mind.
But nothing is impossible with You…
You are Jesus, the Bright and Morning Star,
And in everything You are
More than All-Sufficient,
Jesus, the Way, the Truth, the Life,
The end of all my strife,
Sovereign Lord.
Can the lame man leap for joy? Or the blind escape his night?
Can a crippled heart like mine, come dancing into light?
“Never!” says the world, “Never!” says my mind.
But nothing is impossible with You…
You are Jesus, the Sacrificial Lamb
And for everything I am
You have paid the ransom
Jesus, You can make all things new
So I give myself to You
Sovereign Lord.
Copyright: Betsey Mulloy
1992
