Category Archives: Notes

I Sit ~

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Deborah Ann Belka's avatarCHRISTian poetry ~ by deborah ann

BE STILL BY BRANDI WOOD FREE PHOTO #18120

Sometimes I sit,
in humble silence
I wait on the Lord
seeking His guidance.

I say not a thing,
give to Him my mind
knowing His will for me
is there for me to find.

Sometimes I sit,
in quiet solitude
till I have for Him
the right attitude.

I tune the world out,
His voice, I listen for
I give Him my heart
to search and explore.

Sometimes I sit,
humbled by His love
and in silence I wait . . .
for a word from above!

~~~~~~~~~~~

Psalm 46: 10a

“Be still, and know that I am God:”

King James Version
by Public Domain

Copyright 2015
Deborah Ann Belka

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707. Silence is exhilarating at first – as noise is – but there is a sweetness to silence outlasting exhilaration, akin to the sweetness of listening and the velvet of sleep. ~Edward Hoaglan

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Let me silent be,
For silence is the speech of love,
The music of the spheres above.
~Richard Henry Stoddard

Screen shot 2015-04-18 at 8.36.34 AMPoetic Black and White Watercolors 
of Children With Wild Animals 
by Elicia Elidanto

Spring

Somewhere
a black bear
has just risen from sleep
and is staring

down the mountain.
All night
in the brisk and shallow restlessness
of early spring

I think of her,
her four black fists
flicking the gravel,
her tongue

like a red fire
touching the grass,
the cold water.
There is only one question:

how to love this world.
I think of her
rising
like a black and leafy ledge

to sharpen her claws against
the silence
of the trees.
Whatever else

my life is
with its poems
and its music
and its glass cities,

it is also this dazzling darkness
coming
down the mountain,
breathing and tasting;

all day I think of her —
her white teeth,
her wordlessness,
her perfect love.
~Mary Oliver

…a time to tear and a time to mend, a time to be silent and a time to speak… ~Ecclesiastes 3:7   ✝

Scars

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waynemali's avatarThe Bottom of a Bottle

Scars (Luke 6:37)

Every battle leave a mark
Every blow leaves a scar
Every stone leave a bruise
And every stick breaks the bones
Words cut deeply inside us all
Tearing at out fragile souls
Every scar tells a story
Of the battles which we have fought

Judge not then the scars
That others may wear
Condemn then not
For the bruise they show
For we will never know the fight
Their fragile souls within have faced
And for the scars that each of us wear
Forgive those that broke the skin
And find your forgiveness from deep within

Luke 6:37 Luke 6:37

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706. Spring, the sweet Spring, is the year’s pleasant king… ~Thomas Nashe

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The rose is a flower of love.
The world has acclaimed it for centuries.
Pink roses are for love hopeful and expectant.
White roses are for love, dead or forsaken,
but the red roses, all the red roses,
are for love triumphant.
~Author Unknown

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Beauty is a form of genius –
is higher, indeed, than genius,
as it needs no explanation.
It is of the great facts in the world
like sunlight, or springtime,
or the reflection in dark water
of that silver shell we call the moon.
~Oscar Wilde

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Earth, my dearest, I will.  Oh believe me, you no longer need your springtimes to win me over – one of them, ah, even one, is already too much for my blood.  Unspeakably, I have belonged to you, from the first. ~Rainer Maria Rilke

Rilke took the words right out of my mouth!  Earth is all we have, and it is more than enough, to bring us back to the Lord who made it.  Every bit of it–every creature, every flower, every tree, simply everything speaks of God’s glory and His love so that we cannot resist looking for Him and listening for His voice.  It was part of His plan, and it works well for to belong to the earth is to belong to Him.  These two photos are the last in my series of yard photos from my recliner.  The first is a close up of the small pink roses on the arch over the little porch outside my studio.  The second is farther away from that arch so you can see the size of a Cécile Brünner climbing rose somewhat.  Below it and in the background, the darker pink roses are on top of the smaller arch leading to the secret garden at the very back of my yard.  The third one can’t be seen from my recliner.  It, the entrance to the backyard, fills the window here by my computer with yet another pink climbing rose.

The highest heavens belong to the Lord, but the earth He has given to mankind. ~Psalm 115:16  ✝

705. I love spring anywhere, but if I could choose I would always greet it in a garden.
~Ruth Stout 

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Spring has again returned.
The Earth is like a child that knows many poems.
Many, O so many.
~Rainer Maria Rilke

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The naked earth is warm with Spring,
And with green grass and bursting trees
Leans to the sun’s kiss glorying,
And quivers in the sunny breeze.
~Julian Grenfell

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Spring was moving in the air above
and in the earth below…
~Kenneth Grahame

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The promise of these fragrant flowers,
The fruit that ‘neath these blossoms lies
Once hung, they say,
in Eden’s bowers…
~Walter Learned

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All that is sweet, delightful, and amiable in this world, in the serenity of the air, the fineness of seasons, the joy of light, the melody of sounds, the beauty of colors, the fragrance of smells, the splendor our precious stones, is nothing else but Heaven breaking through the veil of this world, manifesting itself in such a degree and darting forth in such variety so much of its own nature. ~William Law

To the Lord your God belong the heavens, even the highest heavens, the earth and everything in it. ~Deuteronomy 10:14   ✝

**Again I was trying with each shot to move further away and incorporate more of the whole yard beyond the foxglove on the pation near the window.