The Poet's blog: "Poetry"

As silent as the wind blows
and as rare as it seems it shows
I see the world as it is
dancing and dangling among the rain as
the summer's sun attempts to come

The rain is falling, now
all around me
and somehow
without reason
A smile crosses my face
when I think of it;
when I consider the power of it
and when I look at the rain
it tends to consume my thoughts
by it's playing

Rain falls constantly around me,
penetrating and permeating secret places
that trace the very essence of this mind I seek.

With a smooth and unyielding bend,
rain touches every part of me
breaking me down
one moment at a time
leaving me with that naked feeling.


C. S. Times

When I wake up in the morning
I hoped to see some redness in my face
to let me know how hard I had been sleeping,
and to smell the evidence of fragrance in the air;
the one that brings me back home each time it crosses my nose

I hope to break the day with the silent bells of the end of night,
slipping into it as the day drifts toward dawn.
And that mellow singing feeling
that comes with all things new just comes to mind
on days such as this,
and in these moments, I find a sort of graciousness
about life, love and that since of power
that only comes by faith.


C. S. Times

There is a whisper in my ear,
it comes with the break of the early dawn.
When my mind and heart wavers
and in the wake of the day
my mind begins to frail and fade
I cry underneath the weight of it all
touching my heart amid these days of broken light.

My eyes,
they water with the saltiness that comes from Heaven's gate.
they hurt, aching in the wake of my nothingness.

I want
with both my heart and mind ,
body and soul
the days to be ripe and bright with the stance of the setting sun.
I want the evening to be long and laden with
Psalms of Eden.
And time
braced in complete surrender
to what God has given freely,
The Tree of Life.

That in it
I might find songs of songs
and surrender.

While knowing this,
I need a way;
a path that might get me there.
I need that soft and subtle voice to call me
by my name and carry me there
To that place
where I am steeped in that
that I cannot find.



C. S. Times