June 12, 2012



The river, still and black, calm
Traces of blue sky catch on its waters
Before surrendering to the night

The river, like a mirror, liquid glass
Sees into my soul
Reflects what is really there
Not only what I see

The river, quiet and inviting
It whispers, my heart listens
Ripples of hope
Of promise

Poetry came out of me after sunset during a drive through the hill country on our little getaway this past weekend.  It's rare, very rare, for me to ever write anything poem-like. I guess I don't consider poetry "my thing." 

I've noticed that something happens inside of me anytime I'm near water though.  Words come to me in abundance and the writer in me bubbles up.  It just so happened that what bubbled up this time was a poem.

Few things make me feel the kind of alive I feel in my soul, when I get to experience nature and beauty because I'm surrounded by some magnificent body of water.   And when I'm near it, I want to write more than I want to do anything else.

I don't know what all of this means really.  But it makes me curious.  What unique and lovely thing has God planted in my heart?

Whatever it is, it's growing.

1 comment:

  1. when are you going to that writers guild? ;)