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: poets
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…
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…
Winter Sweep
The fire crackles hot, while I drink steaming mugs of tea on the run. I would like to pause to mark these moments laden with winter beauty, the icy limbs of barren branches, the silver silence of powder snowfall, the midnight, moonlight sparkle of downy flake, and the blinding sting of noonday. But my closets…
Canadian Geese
Suspended in mid-air between heaven and earth, they soar. No preparations—not for a nano second do they fret, stew, holdback, or shirk this 3,000-mile, seasonal passage. Oh, those black wings beating over and through the windy currents. Heads held high. Hearts pumping fortitude for the long haul, and eyes focused due south. Inner radar, as…
Today I Ate Hair
Subconsciously seeking a distraction, I mindlessly flipped through the photos on my Instagram feed. I had been mulling over the day and especially a curious happening at an outdoor mall. Wayne and I had gone out to do a little Christmas shopping and walked in separate directions, agreeing to meet again later. The day was…
Healing
The river of disappointment and sorrow—the one that catches in your throat and you swallow back, the one that stings your eyes hot with betraying tears—if you release that pain to stream freely, it will push out, out to empty itself into the vast deep of the salty ocean brine that scrubs clean the wound….
Bonnie Saul Wilks 