God’s Blank Canvas


God’s Blank Canvas…

Life and the dreamscape of time keep our

Days worthwhile, and our night awe-inspiring.

Ginger sunsets toward the dazzling stars that

Takes flight. When God pulled out his blank

Canvas, he painted a magnificent world without

Complaining or tiring.

Emerald mountains snow covered white, a cobalt

Sky, many worlds that reach to the Heavens, he

Questioned his creation, neither did the Angels ask


Everything under the Heaven’s once as pure as a

New winter’s snow has become cloudy the earth is

Losing its glow. When thinking of the dreamscape of

Time we must remember, all that we see is not yours

Or mine.

It is God’s work on this earthly canvas, will his work

Endure time, we must keep her healthy because this

Earth is not yours or mine.








Who Will Weep


Where does a love that has died go; does it slip away slowly like summers fading rose, did it die peacefully just go to sleep; did anyone weep?

Was it created in Heaven, sweet and fair, like the blue sea, sandy beaches and salty air?

When the once quivering bodies are stilled and no longer able to keep each other warm; was the parting sad, were sorrowful screams heard over the darkening skies and midnight storm.

In the dead of night do the souls fly away, do the Heavens cry when love dies?

When hope leaves do lovers mourn, smiles vanish, and do lovers weep endless days.

The journey in love, a sparkling path touched by the sun’s rays, they loved deeply together, and love was home.

When love fades away fear and doubts make a lonely bed; are the rains tears for a lost love that the Heavens have shed?



Shades of Life


I hear the echoing of my soul as it fills with despair,

looming before me are shades of black and grays; I

desperately try to climb to the surface of tomorrow to

face my sorrow.

I wake to the day that I have come to dread, it is cloudy;

I could not take this day if the sun were shining and warm

southern breezes caress my face.

The meadow is misty, the creek sparkles as the ripples rush

toward the lake; a fox watches me from behind  the tall grass

a hawk screeches above.

Wild flowers bloom where ashes were scattered only a few

years ago; I am mesmerized as a group of dragonflies rise

from the blossoms spiraling toward the Heavens.

The water is cold, the bottom of the creek is soft and broken

branches tug at my ankles holding me beneath the surface; the

current becomes swift and nudges me forward, I will not have to

face another tomorrow.




Tomorrow’s Fears…


God did not mean for us to be alone, the

days seem longer than grains of sand by

the sea; nights longer than stars in the

Heavens when the opposite side of the bed

is cold next me.

Tears flow, laughter’s slow; no one there to

challenge the spirit to live with a certain blazing

flare; the joys are now beyond reach, floating

far beyond the nearby reefs.

The truth burns brighter, the earth is no longer

at its best, friends are few; relief comes when the

sun is absorbed by the deep waters to the west.

When one’s eyes are closed and reach for that

invisible hand, speaking softly where only one

can hear; finally fading eyes close, it is only

tomorrow that one fears.