While in Scotland, I wept the sound of rain in unison with the heavens’ downpour upon an ancient land. The first drops sparkled as they mingled with soil and salt and sand. Their song is eternal—a melody of old, known to fishermen and warriors, whose deepest joy is bound to Him. The world grows black,…
Tag: Poetry
For Freedom
As sure as first light, the silvery mist rises from Scotland’s moors and mountains and lingers all the day, past midnight blue. It is a perfumed haze, a glimpse of the Son of Man himself, Jesus, Warrior and King—who walks in thin air across the land. His footprints drip in the mist with fragrance as…
First Rain
Sometimes the rain carries me to the eternal God Himself whose shadow He deigned to shimmer within a fading fragment— like a raindrop. When heaven and earth blend, the atmosphere grows redolent with eternity. One small picture of that mix is rain and earth. First rain mingled with soil takes on an irresistible scent. Before…
Yes
Yes, I’ll journey with you to Skull Hill in springtime, the hyacinths dripping of perfume and the lily blazing purity in the flooding sunshine of noonday. I’m frail and naked and ashamed— beaten and exposed to my bone’s marrow, but I will go with you. I’ll fall upon you in the river of crimson that…
Gleam
Millions of pinholes twinkle across a midnight sky, a bubbly mountain river shimmers in sunlight as it flows to the sea, sand glistens through the water at the ocean shore, bright eyes gleam from a distant playground, and a smoldering ember glows red hot to the end. A small thing it is not…to shine, to…
Proclamation
The black earth that swallowed the acorn, and the seed that died and split open. The tender sapling that shivered to rise, and the tree that towered above the house to touch the clouds. The roots that bore deep below the sand and rock, and the verdant leaves that waved with the wind. The veins…
Beautiful Words
I’m tenderly moving the stones around the velvet-lined box of cedar. Some, I pick up to examine—peering into their deep and light shades of color. I’m looking for beauty, clarity, and roughed authenticity, scars—yet polished by time and conflict. The gems will string together to tell the story of what I see and don’t see,…
To Julia
Today is only reserved for coffee, poetry, music, and lovely thoughts of you. Little Princess Julia played dressup for hours—for years until the velvet dresses thinned and tattered. We planted tulips together and dressed your bears up and had tea parties with friends. Your childhood favorite food was pintos and cheese, and we watched Barney,…
Blurred Words
Tonight I blurred my words and remembered you, fondly. Sometimes when you blur your words with a friend—it heals your soul, and you know you’re not alone. You are not alone. The vagueness of life demands analgesic, and sharing of vulnerabilities leaves the sweetest taste. In the braided arms of convivial moments and beloved friends…
Unmerited
To spurn all of this— To credit no one for the systematic order and glory of the universe—that He spoke into existence by the breath of a Word, conceived by the sharp-edge of wit, unmatched, cared for by the extravagant heart of a benevolent Father, and held together by the surge and swell of unbending…
Bonnie Saul Wilks 