Poem: Psalm 28:1

Psalm 28:1

There are those who can wait,
whose minds are calmed by the mere act,
the mere knowing that the message is sent.
They are content to wait.

But not most of us. No.
Most of us cry in anguish,
our pain like a fire, burning our heart,

unrelenting, blistering, desperate
to hear more
than God's deafening silence.

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This poem came out of my bible reading this morning. The first part of Psalm 28:1 reads:  ^"To you I call, O LORD my Rock; do not turn a deaf ear to me. For if you remain silent, I will be like those who have gone down to the pit."


The photograph was taken at the American Frontier Museum in Staunton, Virginia. You can click on it for a larger version.

Tom

Poem: The Soul of the Tool

The Soul of the Tool

There are faster ways to do this,
to cut and carve the unyeilding wood
to something soulful,
to unleash the angel
deep within your broken heart,
and discover the dancing balance
of tenderness and strength
needed
to create not a fortress
but a cradle.

Yes, there are quicker paths
than the slow, hard work you do,
day after day,
with ancient tools,
outdated but effective
in carving
an elegant
eternity.

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The picture was taken in Williamsburg, Va. You can click on it for a larger version.

Tom