WindThe Sound of His Voice

The Seasons of God's Voice
        
When rumbling thunder booms, and lightening streaks,
and roaring winds tear limbs and bark from trees,
a voice is heard - within my soul it speaks:
with reprimands that bring me to my knees.

The clap of rustling leaves applauding spring:
creates a message to my inner core;
as flowing fields of pansies dance and sing,
that same omnipotent voice is heard once more.

Shimmering waves from summer's radiant heat,
draw word mirages through the humid air;
interpreted by my throbbing pulse heart beat -
the source I recognize : the voice is there.

Then finally winter freezes spoken breath,
and on the tips of icicles silence suspends.
For those who hear the voice pierce shrouds of death,
the message through eternity never ends.




Regeneration

As leaves turn brown in autumn,
hastening forth to winter's death -
So my soul begins to darken,
questioning . . . will there be a springtime ?

Will I awake and resurrect
as lilies burst from last year's graves ?
Can my mustard seed of faith
become in springtime . . .
. . . an Eternal Tree ?






  I HEAR YOU GENTLY SPEAKING


I come alone in early morn
   though still I am awaking,
           yet partaking of your loving call
      I hear you gently speaking.

The dew is on the meadow glistening
   while I'm listening to your call,
           that murmurs in my waiting soul,
        I hear you gently speaking.

Did I not hear your voice to say:
    You'd be with me throughout the day
           and show the path that is Your way?
         I hear You gently speaking.

This quiet time of peace and joy
   does make it known I am Your own,
           and tells me of Your lasting love,
         I hear You gently speaking.

I'll come again in early morn
   and spend the time in praying,
           saying, Lord I thank You;
           in my soul. . . . . . . .
       I hear the Words You're Saying.



Whispers

Almighty God, I bow my soul to You;
Your great omnipotence my spirit awes.
I marvel at the mighty works You do,
in wonderment of ways in me You cause.

I cannot know the full extent You plan,
Yet down upon my knees I often feel:
I somehow sense Your will and understand;
My soul responds to thoughts that You reveal.

At times like this my core of life sings out,
and raptures forth at knowing You are there.
I feel the wisps of angels' wings about -
This strange phenomena . . . known to me as prayer.