With His Incarnation

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In that place
outside the bounds of Time
where the expanse of God rests
and
imagines
will we meet with Jesus
and will He extend an invitation
to know Him better
by entering a Portal to the Past
and journeying with Him
throughout His earthly life?

Will we be with Him
right after the Holy Spirit has made Love
to the singular Virgin
floating with Him
in that sacred tabernacle of flesh?

Will we witness His birth
among a weary teenage couple
so far from everything they knew
and with animals and
angels
singing a song that reverberates
throughout all of history?

His first breath
His first step
A raindrop on His skin
Healing the wings of an injured bird
hidden from the eyes of His friends
His laughter
His tears
Words flowing in poetry
With the physical touch of One who has lived
fully

And when He pours out His Blood
will He allow us to comfort Him
like He does with Veronica
as she removes her veil
and steps right into His pain
unguarded?

Do you think that our hearts will be motivated
to kiss His cheek
in that moment when a terrible searing
sinks Him outside of Time
and then when He leaps back in
bathed in the power of Light?

To see what He sees
To feel what He feels
How He experiences
the taste of honey on His tongue
To be in union with our Beloved’s natural life
so that we can more intimately join with Him
in the realms of His supernatural existence

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The Light of Her Presence

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She is a star appearing
in the deepest midnight sky
dancing playfully
as she sees fit
casting random flashes of colour
out into your universe

She is sunlight sparkling
on moving summer water
dazzling your eyes
as she eludes consistency
side-stepping definition
while speaking to you
of riches that are all around
if only you would see

She is moonlight reflected
off crystallized snow
blankets of diamonds stretched out across
an ocean of mystery
inviting you to leave your comfort zone
and to step out
into a wonderland
of wildly animated
epic adventures

Love Linked

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straight, solid, intentional
an insertion
caressed and wrapped in softness
a tug, slip, release
and a new stitch is born
a link connecting all those engaging in this craft
in the present
merged with a sensation of stretching
deep into the past
the artist allows her external world to soften
as she nestles within her own thoughts
holding family, friends, strangers in need of compassion
within her heart
recipients of the soothing motions of her hands
and so her gifts extend outwards
to warm the bodies and souls of others
love multiplying and advancing
casting a tender and colour-rich future

Unexpected Winter Longings

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I cannot believe that I am admitting this to you
me who saturates herself in colours like I would wither without them
me who weeps when the birds flee to more hospitable climates
my heart breaking for the loss of their songs
but I long for winter
I long for winter like one who is pressed and overstimulated and weary longs
to indulge in rest without obligations or guilt
I long for it like sunburned skin longs for a fan blowing
across a bowl of frozen water

oh to open a frosted window
and draw frigid air deep into my lungs
to calm the hot flashes from within

to nestle underneath the worn comforter that I have made
rows upon rows of single crochet
like layers upon layers of blanketed snow
sleepy
while I sink into literary fiction

to sit at the table with my husband
right against the patio doors
immersed in the adventures of mythical board games
protected and cozy
while a storm rages on the other side of the glass
the sharp tinkling sound
of ice pellets hurtling against windows

and to wander through our home during the night
our rooms lit almost like daytime
moonlight and streetlights reflected on snow reflected on clouds
peering outside to watch bunnies
taking refuge in our skeletal raspberry canes
a landscape of winter magic made visible

this is what I long for
to be cooled
to slow things down
to dream alongside my husband and nature
and to admire the designs
of a stark and silvery wonderland

Colours of Transition

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When I felt the first shift of perimenopause
my favourite colours became Silver and Deep Purple
Silver called to me like the moon
mystical and feminine with the elusive majesty
of light sparkling on snow-covered ground
While Deep Purple spoke to me of my rich sexual life
my intensified drive for life-giving expressions

In the energetic midst of perimenopause
my favourite colour burst forth as Orange
like the flames of hot flashes and emotions
that burned over me and through me
all with a thrust towards happiness

With the full emergence into menopause
my thoughts are consumed with images of Pink rose petals
Soft
Resting in my innate loveliness
My attention effortlessly drawn to beauty
As I yield to the elixir of romance

Implications

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Society is attempting to create
a world without God

Such a place already exists
It is called Hell

And I shudder to think
of what is being released
to fill the void

Balm from Heaven: A Restoration of Our Personhood

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amidst the dismantling of the human form
the feminine emerges from Heaven
emanating God’s beauty and light
bringing healing and restoration
to those tattered in the war upon persons
calling forth authentic masculinity and femininity
to unite in a prolific celebration
for the completion our purpose

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