garden – penned in moon dust

He Is Not Here #thecross #Easter

April 21, 2019April 20, 2019 by moondustwriter, posted in Faith, Photography, Poetry

treachery’s grasp

storm clouds darkest hour

dawn’s hope rises

mankind freed from sin

words spoken in a garden

He has Risen

Godinterest

To Her Who Shines Bright #MothersDay #poetry

May 14, 2017May 13, 2017 by moondustwriter, posted in memories, Photography, Poetry

Orange sun is setting

too few memories

I look in her garden

even bugs will do

so little remains

my little rose is gone

even tree stumps decayed

hidden in waxy green

I find her smiling face

Camillia pink blush

I want to inhale

one remnant of us

To Mothers everywhere who plant seeds in the hearts of children.

Happy Mothers Day

The Beauty in Difference #devotion #poetry

June 14, 2015June 14, 2017 by moondustwriter, posted in Faith, Life's Lessons, nature, Photography, Poetry, poets united

pink wild flower poster

I was wild a little daring

boldly wearing magenta in a sea of green

standing tall at the close of spring

the thing was no one knew my name

they knew the pansies, marigolds, lobelia

I heard one flower proclaim

“she’s a beauty for a weed

she should be removed

who knows if she will infect you”

I wasn’t refined, knew little what to do

hard to define, but I like who I am

I heard the master gardener say:

“don’t stop being who you are

a time will come I will cut away

do not dismay you will endure

long years you will smile and sway”

It’s difficult standing among a crowd and being different. Perhaps while everyone wears blue and yellow, you like orange and pink. Your shoes are tall while everyone else wears flats. Were we made to be all the same? Apparently not. Some people are petite others are large. There could be one hundred people with dark hair and that hair would be long, straight, short, kinky, medium, bouncy, shiny, red tint, or dull with some grey. God made us this way. We are different not so that we can point out that we are the best flower in the garden but so that we can give food or shade to a certain creature, offer a rare fragrance in mid-day, cheer up someone who is downtrodden, or shine our faces in a smile to the sun. We each carry a gift that like a bouquet is an offering of beauty to our maker and to our world.

“Every branch in Me that does not bear fruit, He takes away; and every branch that bears fruit, He prunes it so that it may bear more fruit.”

John 15:2

“I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.” ~Psalm 139:14

“For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.”

Ephesians 2:10

Shared today with Poetry Pantry at Poet’s United and Godinterest

Time Passage #poetry

May 6, 2015May 7, 2015 by moondustwriter, posted in art, Haiku, nature, Photography, Poetry, poets united

wright bro memorial — Wright Brother Memorial

I stood on the edge of the universe

stars within my grasp

reach for them I did

I never thought to ask

nudging my fingertips

a velvety lamb’s ear

in an old forgotten grotto

nature knows she is here

In the expanse of a gallery

the paint is still fresh

though the paintings are old

where I had my first test

hand-picked stone lined path

each flower has a name

crunch of gravel so familiar

tho I am no longer the same

This place harkens to her footsteps

welcomes me anew

tho time has passed

memories like morning dew

I was taught from before I was able to talk the value of the elderly, the importance of honor, and the lessons I could learn if I listened closely. I am sad for a generation that places so little value for those past a certain age. Because of this attitude, there are lessons unlearned/ history unheard.

There is more reality than metaphor in this poem and a gratitude beyond expression that I hold for those who taught me to reach for the stars.

I’m also sharing a link to rewrite of a fictionalized story of an elderly patient – here