Heavenly perceptions.


Lord, be close upon this day.
Make me kind in every way.
Help me see things as you do
To keep my smile the whole way through.
Help me hear the things you hear
A bird’s song bright or stifled tear.
Help me smell the things you smell
A fragrant prayer, a blast from hell.
Help me taste the things you taste
Food in bounty, laid to waste.
Help me feel the things you feel
That all earth’s sorrows you could heal.
Help me know the things you know
That in rejoicing life may flow.


You only see part of the picture.


(Lessons gleaned doing a puzzle extending 6 inches beyond the borders pictured on the box.)

You only see part of the picture

There’s more to your life than you see.

You see what happens around you

But outside that framework there be

Unknown factors and measures

Images, colour and light.

Though to put the pieces together

It can be more of a fight.

Part of the picture you work on

Putting the pieces in place

The other unseen surrounding

You leave to My infinite grace.

Guessing at last what’s portrayed there

Trying to make sense of it all

Feeling your way to an image

You don’t have a sight to recall.

But think of the wonder in this child,

It’s much more exciting you see.

The whole of the picture completed

You’ll see it at last as I see.

Eternal imagery


I’ve often cause to wonder, when in lucid dreams I stray,
I seem as always I have felt,
The rounded chin, the wrinkles melt.
This other self in dreams appears still young and slim today?

No. More than this.
Though it’s me, yet bones more slight, the eyes more free,
Familiar as a glance may be, me … yet not me.

“Why?” I ask.
A dream voice answers, clear as a bell.
“You’re in disguise, ’tis but a shell.”
I ponder then upon my bed disguises others bear.

The crippled form, the ugly face,
May one day be interfaced
True beauty hid within a husk
That one day shall be turned to dust.
On that day we shall see.
Just what was hid from you and me.

The Dream Master.  


from July 2014

Song Bird Songs


(Flash Fiction)

The class awaits the teacher, the beach smooth, serene. Waves trimmed with white lace splash upon the sand. He comes now. The crowd puts everything down to tune in to his coming.

Following his signal a young girl steps towards him. Taking her hand he leads her into the waves till the ocean stretches vast around them, serene and tranquil.

He splashes her in a playful game, the water making patterns in the air. It’s as if he can at will slow it down so all can watch the course of the tiny droplets. They look, mesmerized as light refracts rainbow colors on the dancing drops, patterns forming, fluctuating, cascading.

“Like life,” he says, “you need to slow down to appreciate it, even to see it”.

They stand watching the droplets in gentle motion, so pure a white.

“Things about you are fleeting, that’s why you need to…

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