Untitled Hope



When earth was new

and beauty just right ,

soil stretched beyond material rule;

Evening sent sunlight fresh memories for a new day,

And hope dreamed new patterns of love.
First small,

Then large,

Then larger still…

Islands formed countries;

Machines rose from desert storms,

And heat merged with atmospheric conditions.

Deep streams went dry;

Daylight drew away;

Gardens withered;

New songs got old;

Dreams faded,

And molecules dropped like flies.
Gather round dear souls;

Join color;

Mix flavor ;

Baptize and receive,

this new hour,

this new space.

Where earth is new,

And beauty just right.

Resurrection is nigh.
Joylynn Graham- 2017

Retreat



Stripped down to the raw essentials,

I sit here in silence.

Be still-

and know

that I am

God…

Sunshine lights my paper and I watch the shadow of my pen dancing on the page.  The wind blows beyond the glass; branches dance; trunks of trees sway, and eagles soar over it all, surveying the landscape while delighting the senses of my soul.

It is cold beyond the glass, yet on this side I am warmed by the fire as it heats the interior of my humble abode…

I must do nothing.  

I must produce nothing.

I must perform for no one.

My time is my own, yet the sun still beams down on me, and presumably, the world continues to spin.  It will go on without me, or it will happily receive me upon my return.  Whatever.  My life – my time – it’s mine – right here – right now – this time is mine, to feel the sun on my skin, to feel the wind in my hair when I wander past the glass, to squint my eyes as I watch the eagles soaring over it all.

It is cold beyond the glass, yet on this side I am warmed by the fire as it heats the interior of my humble abode…