A Stone Once Thrown


Launched into the water,

a stone rounded off in years,

fresshy picked and thrown into the center of the lake.


Dropping deep into the interior,

Pondering life on the shore,

nestling, eventually at the bottom,

Leaving ever-decreasing ripples as my cause and effect.

For others to see and wash over them.





The donation of all time,


indelibly marked

and inside each human.

Perfectly marked “MADE FOR LOVE” as were their parents,

and a Father intended.

Reflecting Adam and Eve,

in a garden,

given freewill,

some natural inclinations,

and time.


Time for doing,

Time for noticing,

Time for reflection.

New Jerusalem – The Shard of Light

New Jerusalem – The Shard of Light

Perfection. Alignment. Peace.

No longer freewill,

now fully harnessed and beautifully out of my control.

More powerful, not persuasion but within,

implanted and indwelling;

like a second heart, deep inside,

a soul felt, awakened and palpable,

radiating peace and harmony,

excluding all else.

Washing away sin as if it never happened.

Replacing pain with beauty, water with blood.

Blood-borne life itself, not drained by death,

a transfusing and infusing love.


This overwhelming silence,

glowing within, replaces all earthly happiness,

a glimpse of New Jerusalem, heaven on earth.

A tasting of what is to come,

new senses … indescribable,

make all happenings past and those to come, (in this wonderful temporary garden),

Have meaning.

Because every second, every interaction, every glance, every moment … does.  

Door Ajar


Never closing, but seems so from afar,

Like a mind, almost receptive, but tuned out.

As night swallows a descending sun,

candles, burning all day,

light up a soul.

Now it is clear, the door is open, awaiting, welcoming.

So why wait outside.

Come walk the garden path to a house named Forgiveness.  


Returning to the Dark


Walking away from the lighted house,

knowing you are there,

bathed in warmth and light is a remembrance.

Now seeking others and thus myself,

squinting, discerning,

seeing shadows but not the ground

only feeling, till united with who desires help.

The face of love.


Seven Baskets

They sit there waiting for consumption;

And even though bread should be amazed at themselves.

Do we leave this bread at our door, or give it to another

Witnessing the miracle of our own lives.

Perhaps sharing with another. Or going stale?


“They picked up the fragments left over–seven baskets full.”

The Gospel of Matthew