The devil gets no peace. To sing
for him is more a punishment.
His time is short. It goes. It went,
but wrath remains a fearful thing.
We’re confident. Each coming spring
is but rehearsal for the end
when death is done and life can mend.
We can’t cling to an evil heart.
Please, make it new. Now let us start.
Tomorrow we’ll be home, my friend.
Ronovan Hester offers the rhyme word “spring” to be used in an A line of a décima having rhyme pattern ABBAACCDDC for this week’s challenge.
Was it the tree? Was it our choice
to be like gods that day?
That fruit, recall, did not agree.
Perhaps it really was the tree
when we did not obey.
Chelsea Owens challenges us to write a rant for this month’s A Mused Poetry Contest. Ranting gives me a chance to blame someone besides myself.
I was thinking of Genesis 3. Imagine what Adam and Eve might have said to each other after eating from the tree that gave them the knowledge of good and evil along with the realization, to their surprise, that they weren’t good enough to be gods.
I don’t recall that they actually blamed the tree in Genesis, but they might as well have. I wonder what God would have done if they repented then and there, broke their rant, and blamed themselves?
Regardless, were I in their place given my own history of messing things up, I shudder to think what would have happened.
Looking up I know that I
am blessed to see this full wolf moon.
Without a word I hear the sky,
Maranatha. Coming soon.
Eugenia offers the prompt “wolf moon” for this week’s challenge. I was thinking of Psalm 19 when writing this.
“It will be Biblical,” I’ve read.
My hope embraces all the change
and challenges. I’ll rearrange
ignoring fear, rejecting dread.
In truth good news has long been spread.
I sacrifice my sinful heart.
Create it pure. Renew each part.
I’ll trust the warmth and saving care.
I’ll wait in silence anywhere
then praise whatever You might start.
Ronovan Hester challenges us to use the rhyme word “care” in a D line of a décima having the rhyme pattern ABBAACCDDC. I was mostly thinking of Psalm 51.
The Red Sea’s calm.
The riddle’s gone.
We praise the Lord
who brings this dawn.
Eugenia offers for this week the prompt “dawning”. As background to the poem see Exodus 14.
We ask and yet we don’t receive.
Let’s drop some plans. Let others wait.
I wonder: Were the corners straight?
What wayward missteps did we weave?
I won’t let fear take root to grieve.
Dreams are cooking? Let them simmer.
Dusk is growing. Light gets dimmer.
Take time to find the righteous way
avoiding what led us astray.
Morning sunlight soon will shimmer.
Ronovan Hester challenges us to write a décima with the rhyme word “shimmer” in a C line with a rhyme pattern ABBAACCDDC.
I am grateful to P. A. Oltrogge for bringing Psalm 27 to my attention this past week. Here is the concluding verse about waiting and courage:
Wait on the Lord: be of good courage, and he shall strengthen thine heart: wait, I say, on the Lord.
Psalm 27:14 King James Version
I found Michael Wilson’s post on the use of the Greek word for slave, δοῦλος, helpful. He noted that the word is often translated as servant although it means slave. The distinction is that a servant is hired but a slave is owned. When I think about it I’d rather be owned by Jesus than hired by him for my good works. I am grateful that He bought me.
So whom do you rely upon?
You’re at the Red Sea. Where’s the boat?
How long in water can you float?
That’s when a way was made. At dawn
the charging enemy was gone
except for corpses flushed to shore.
You still have doubts? You’d like one more
experiment to test what’s true?
You see the dead? They’d like that, too,
but they have lost their strength for war.
Ronovan Hester offers the rhyme word “float” to be used in a B line of a décima having rhyme pattern ABBAACCDDC for this week’s Décima Poetry Challenge.
See Exodus 14 for an account of the crossing of the Red Sea.
Dale offers the challenge “shades of gray” for this week’s Cosmic Photo Challenge. Above are gray clouds coming in during sunset. Below is a leaf on a gray sidewalk.
The first blog I read this morning was Dianne Marshall’s The Marshall Report. It contained links to two videos, both of which I enjoyed.
Repentance cringes at the past
since God detests the rot of it
that reeks of death. The blot of it
warns us beware of each contrast.
We’re thankful though that didn’t last.
We saw in time our wretched ways.
Where would we be if all our days
continued on mechanically
when seeing meant we didn’t see?
Such gratitude’s the source of praise.
Ronovan Hester offers the challenge of using the rhyme word “contrast” in the A line of a décima where the rhyme pattern is ABBAACCDDC.
Poetry, Short Prose and Walking 