Never Sleeps

While a pastor on the Fort Berthold Reservation I was honored with the Indian name, "NeverSleeps". It was primarily because I was often responding to particular needs in the middle of the night.

Even more relevant, the Lord Himself, Maker of all, "Never Sleeps".

Surely you know.
Surely you have heard.
The Lord is the God who lives forever,
who created all the world.
He does not become tired or need to rest.
No one can understand how great his wisdom is.

Isaiah 40:28

Welcome to every reader. I am a simple follower of Jesus. He is perfect, I often fall short.

Showing posts with label daisies. Show all posts
Showing posts with label daisies. Show all posts

Monday, November 14, 2022

Tin Daisies


 Tin Daisies

(“To find your life, you must lose your life—and whoever loses his life for My sake will find it.” Matthew 10:39)

Everything we need has already been found;
every stretching tree was once a seed in the ground.
Every friend, (you know your name)
has entered time to greet you again,
and all you thought you needed was another
new
face
when the souls of the beloved have
never changed.

That which cannot be tolerated has already
evaporated into healing rain.
That which cannot be comprehended has daily
communicated the artwork in and out
of the frame.
That which was unspoken has
filled our hearts at last.
That which was broken has
first been recast as tin daisies
welded by an artisan. Sand
and sparks,
the arc of the sky inspires darkness
to unveil everything the day had not
yet revealed.

And I hear your footsteps a dozen years removed,
and I hear your voice a thousand miles from here
singing the sweetest blues from
the pub where birthdays are marked,
where adulthood began.
And I stand and wonder that we have found

Anything at all.

Monday, August 29, 2022

We Embark as Passengers


 We Embark as Passengers

(“May he give you what your heart wishes for. May he make all your plans succeed.” Psalm 20:4)

We embark as passengers,
take our seats, yawn our way into
the excursion
and wonder about the eyes that gaze upward.
We watch the eyes of those who gaze upward.

Prepaid, our tickets are not punched,
no baggage, just a few snacks to tide us over.
We hear the whistle of cow’s breath,
the drifting of black-eyed susans passing
a day in the sun. We wonder at yellow
and mustard. We watch the canola grow.

Our destination is not fixed, we may wander.
After a day of travel our weariness gives way
to curiosity. Who named the jonquils? Who
painted bananas? And do you remember the girl
whose hair was like daisies?

Long before these tracks were laid down,
long before engines and asphalt,
others traversed the open sky from the
middle of the continent. Did they dream of
oceans, or create myths to explain them?

We feel the ancestors within us,
we feel the pulse of their ancient songs
as they keep time to the long train grinding
through the valley into the next depot. What
sunsets await us in the crowd gathered for the
next ride out of town?