Metamorphic Dawn
A soft blush of rose spreads across the early morning horizon against the fading hue of indigo blue. Trees appear as charcoal sketches, dark silhouettes backlit by a numinous moon. The wind has not yet awakened, and a spiritual hush wraps me in its soft cocoon. I stand breathless, like a butterfly emerging from the womb of transformation. A moment in God’s presence always inspires change…I will never be the same.
Awake
Morning light pierces the darkness, chases it away, and as night fades, revelation illuminates my soul. The light emerges victorious, dimly at first, building towards its zenith, then slowly allowing truth to take hold, before quietly giving deference to the dark again. Two forces vie for the heart of mankind, two opposite concepts in a give and take struggle for eminence–but not for long. The time is at hand when there will be neither day nor night, when the Light will be revealed as He who rules with perfect illumination…how I long to open my eyes
Beyond Understanding
Wrapped in the tender embrace of the wind, whispering ancient secrets, my spirit awakens to Eternal Dimensions. I am aware of a Presence calling me: to see beyond the glow of the orb hanging red within the haze; to hear more than the roar of the falls, its rainbow spray anointing my face; to be still and listen as His voice speaks my name… “Remove your shoes, this is Holy Ground.”
My naked feet sink into the earth, and I am reduced to the texture of the rocks that frame the basis of my world. Stripped of pride, elevated from mere wonder, I stretch forth my hands in the freedom of pure worship. The connection is completed–my heart to the Son’s, His to the Father’s. I no longer simply know…I now am known.
Salient
Red morning sun stretches its glowing fingers upward, gracing the sky, gracing my life, praising the Creator of the day. Golden beams streak through pink glazed heavens, stirring the complacent dawn to life, coaxing the south wind from its hiding place.
Spring tiptoes through the snow and whispers warm secrets to the awakening earth. Her footprints melt into flowered patterns of pastel fragrance. The earth yawns, and I put away the sleepy restraints of winter hibernation. Awake, awake, my soul…something deeper calls.
In the Stillness of Quiet
In the stillness of quiet, I sense your Presence, away from the din of lips moving–hearts complacent. I hear Your voice in the deepest calm of submission, where I become a shadow, cast by Your silhouette against the Light of Day. Touch my lips with the coals of Holy Fire, Lord; let me not utter hollow praise. Keep my heart beating in the palm of Your hand, lest I stray from Your purpose and be found wanting. See me, Lord, through the prism of Your grace…color me with Your Love.
Emergence
A desolate land sculpted from ice and scoured by blizzards, stretches out like a cold graveyard. Towering headstones whisper death, while an icy blast of the cruel north winds sucks the life from the mere mention of hope.
It is all a deception. Only the deadwood is cast off; the heartwood remains strong, the roots deep. His hands shape and life becomes. His voice speaks and life begins. His heart beats, “Peace; be still.” And so, I rest.
Then comes to my window the sound of doves’ wings. The warmth of the south winds prevail, melting away doubt and despair, revealing the Truth that had been hidden from my heart. I am His Beloved. Winter will not last forever. Even now, the promised flower of Spring emerges through the cold depths of time. I watch…lest I miss its appearance.
Desert Rose
The joy of knowing I am Yours is a stream flowing through the desert of my heart. The stream becomes a river, overflowing its banks. Life comes to a barren wilderness. Fill me with Your hope, Lord…give me the grace to bloom
Eden, My Own
The aftermath of a summer storm bestows a breath of fresh air upon my garden. Framed beneath a shimmering arch of colors, flowers glisten with prismatic brilliance. Emerald treasures dart between the dwindling raindrops and pause to hover in search of nectar. Butterflies skim the wet earth in search of nourishment. In a moment of trust, one of them lightly graces my fingertip. Could there be a more perfect paradise? I can think of only one…
Wood Thrush
Silvery tones of a sweet refrain pull me from the edge of dreams steeped in the indigo shadows of night. Elusive flute. A feathered reed, speckled brown with sunlight streaks.
Split harmonies crescendo through your earthen pipes and fall through the air like crystal rain. My spirit soars on the edge of your wings, set free by the lyrics of summer’s song, trilling through the glow of dawn, until the hush of twilight’s calling. The air shivers with your melodic praise…I stretch out my arms to embrace your passion of being.
Color Wheel
Misty days. Rain filters through my heart, until it becomes water logged. There is no day or night. Gray sabotages any effort to be constructive or creative, turning me into a mindless creature without motivation, until His Spirit opens my eyes to see gloom as just an illusion of the mind. A closer look at a single droplet of moisture reveals all the colors of the rainbow waiting to burst into life. A wet leaf is intensely green. Rocks once dull, now shine with God’s hidden secrets.
Like a blossom opening, I unfold from my fetal position of resignation and explore the deeper dimensions of this new spiritual awareness. Beyond the monotone background, above the clouds once saturated with despair, I bask in the Light that was there all along…I simply had to draw back the curtains of my heart to let it in.
Rhythm
The sun heralds a new day, a new beginning. The moon declares its end, and the cycle of day and night signals the continuance of life, adds another wrinkle, another gray hair, another reminder of human frailty and mortality. We mark the passage of time with celebration and regret, thrilling to a new sunrise, catching our breath when it sets. We find joy in a new life and mourn the passing of the old. Our steps keep time to the ticking of the clock. Like a metronome, it governs the rhythm of life, and we alone have the power to decide if we will walk in harmony…or ruin the concert
Assurance
The early rays of the sun strike the remnants of the night’s cold atmosphere and create a misty haze. The golden promise of warmth to come gives me hope on a day that could be filled, instead, with dread. Hallowed be this day, O Lord. On this day, with danger lurking in the shadows, may Your Light shine as the noonday and dispel the darkness waiting to kill, steal and destroy. All around me, the air is filled with the sound of birds, offering up their songs of praise and worship. They trust You. Teach me to sing the same way…from my heart.
Autumn’s Treasures
Cold morning mist blankets my heart. Fall trees yield to the breeze in silent submission. Frosty nights have coaxed the tips of the branches to cast off their shyness and display their true colors.
My emotions surface, torn between the sadness of losing my emerald world and the excitement of seeing the sunlight reveal gems of ruby and topaz within drifts of yellow gold, all beneath a sapphire sky.
I long to gather such treasures and hold onto them through the harsh winter storms, but I have learned that to do so produces the dust of disappointment. Instead, I store them within my heart, where moth and rust do not corrupt, where words will bring them to life once again…to share with all who would desire such wealth.
After Glow
Sunshine trails the afterglow of the moon’s latest escapades, bringing the dark side of life into the light. Light, by its very nature, dispels the dark heart of evil and restores courage and faith. Its illumination fills the earth with a rapturous sense of well being, while it coaxes happier times from darkened doorways and leads them into fields of smiling faces, warm hearts.
The heat of the sun streams through body, mind and soul, chasing away the cold of uncertainty. Like a river of gold, it overflows its banks and spreads across a downcast landscape of tortured lives trying to find meaning in their black and white existence. Hearts search for the substance dreams are made of, while unseen rays bend their way through upturned hands with fingers clasped to form a prism of colored reality.
I sense a lesson in this cycle of nature. Light gives–darkness takes away. Darkness hides–light reveals. From the moment the sun overpowers the dawn with its vibrant rays of rebirth and hope, to the blood red pulsing of its farewell promise to return, the golden treasure is symbolic of a hero vanquishing a foe. As someone whose spirit sags when a gloomy sky looms overhead, I look forward to the day when I will live forever within the conquering glow of the One who proclaimed two thousand years ago… “I am the Light.”
Harmony
Celestial bodies swirl through the heavens, in perfect harmony, a song in C minor. Blessed is the One who made Heaven and Earth.
Your melodies glide through the starshine of a thousand planets, created for Your pleasure. We cannot see across the breadth of Your creation; we cannot fathom the depth of Your power. Your love is written in the night sky through the patterned language of the ancients, who walked in the light of Your presence.
The music of Your heart stirs my soul to worship with angels who have heard from on high, the rhythmic breathing of a universe alive with praise. You are the melody that gives me hope, the words that others hear through my life…as I walk in tune to all that You are.
Scattered Dimensions-Gathered Reality
Starshine leads me to the edge of night past the dimension of dreams and expectations. I dare not close my eyes; I dare not hold my breath. I stand transfixed, letting my spirit transport me through a space unfathomed, mysterious, beckoning. I see this galaxy with suns, planets and stars, all swirling in an order that goes beyond mathematical calculation. They hang in space on a word spoken with authority and incomprehensible grace and beauty.
I turn in circles, gazing at the sky. My arms extend. My being is transformed, and I move beyond the realm of understanding. I breathe a prayer, feel it accepted and know I am loved. Is there a God? Does He exist? My answer is yes. He envelopes me, He guides me, He knows me. He is everywhere, revealed in everything visible, and perceived in that which is outside our scope of comprehension. We can deny Him; we are free to decide…I choose to believe.
Winter Watercolor
Dark clouds hang like a curtain, partially drawn up to reveal a winter-blue sky. Lacey sunlight peaks out beneath the edge, giving an ethereal feel to what would normally be described as a dismal day. Instead, God’s Grace shines through and gives clearer meaning to life that might seem doomed. Were it not for His Grace, I would be depressed, but I cannot be sad when such beauty indescribable melts the dreary shades of gray… transforming them into a watercolor masterpiece.
Into One
Snow falls on the barren wilderness of my suffering. I endure it alone until I feel the spikes in Your hands and feet, the lashings tearing at Your flesh, the piercing of humanity’s hatred. Through pain, I begin to comprehend the depth of the sacrifice You went through in order to obtain me for Your own, even though the bitter cold of reality makes a mere moment on the cross more than I can bear. Like a snowflake, I realize I am uniquely Yours, and I am lost in the saving warmth of Your love. Melt me… I surrender.
Lustrous
Behind the gray veil of winter, a pale yellow glow blends outward until it casts a silvery sheen across the sky. The burnished atmosphere defies dimensional reality. It is a glossy page from a frozen moment of time, and in that brief moment…I forget to breathe.
Once Upon a Time
Fairy tale moments sneak up on us, taking us unaware, and we walk in them, reveling in the ethereal quieting of our souls. Perhaps it’s the avalanche of human misery around us that makes it so important to cherish such times. Like today, when Jack Frost skipped through our countryside and blew his icy breath upon the land. The cloud of white descended and outlined every branch and twig. Scattered across snow-covered fields and lining the roadsides, golden grasses nodded their hoary heads, while a gossamer mist draped the landscape in a sheer curtain of mystery and intrigue. For a brief mortal moment, the clear blue sky and brilliant sunlight brought my world into a once-upon-a-time reality and made the ice and cold seem worthwhile…at least, visually.
That Sly Old Man
Snowflakes, crystal patterns, icicles…wintry prisms trapping whatever light is available and transforming the drab and dreary into a fantasy other-world of twinkling, shimmering, dazzling wonders. There is a mesmerizing quality to the frozen atmosphere, a kind of apologetic gift given in return for stripping the surroundings of their life and color at the end of the year. It is a solace for the shivering, freezing misery bestowed upon us by the harsh North Wind. I will never have a love affair with Old Man Winter…but I secretly admire his attempts to win my heart
Purpose
The shadow of your hand, Lord, covers my life. Your love wraps around my every movement, and I walk under the protection of angelic wings. Though my way is a path, narrow and winding, hiding the end from view, I will not be deterred. From Your position beyond my veil of knowing, You see everything ahead of its happening. You are my strength on this journey…You are my destination.
Sigh
Breathe in deeply while you can. Hold life close, feel its warmth, before it is lost to a moment in time…a breath exhaled into the wind.
SHAVINGS, © 2007 by Mid Stutsman, won the Best of the Best title for me on FaithWriters.com 2007-2008, and is published in an anthology.
A golden glow framed the cedar doorposts of a Mediterranean style mansion, where a lone figure stood in the entryway. His shadow played across the marble tiles of the floor. When he entered, the light followed, permeating the room with soft rays.
The interior of the home exuded the warmth of his handiwork. He ran his hand over each piece of furniture crafted to perfection from exotic rosewood and mahogany and accented with gold leaf filigree. Botanical prints, done in low relief, framed the arches of the interior doorways. Pale watercolors, brushed over the surface of the designs, made them stand out even more. The hues of a misty sunrise swirled through terrazzo floors, which gleamed in the light of his presence as he walked through the rooms. Scenes from special moments had been faithfully etched into each tile–a unique reminder of a life graced with love.
Time was not an issue; no expense was spared. There was an elegant simplicity to everything he made, from the recessed bookshelves in the library, to the desk for drawing and writing. Carved wood trim outlined the windows. Exposed timbers highlighted the vaulted ceilings. Every inch of the mansion bore his imprint of excellence. He looked around, pleased with his progress.
There was but one more project he needed to finish for the garden courtyard.
The fragrances of frankincense, myrrh, and spices, blended with the air rising from the aromatic shavings on the floor. Like a cloud of incense, it mingled with the carpenter’s sweat and blood, reminding him of another day, another piece of wood. He willed the image away and continued to work, his skilled hands moving deftly over the teak boards on his bench. He shaped them to exact measurement, breathing life into every stroke. Each curl of wood falling to the floor took with it a whispered prayer and a promise that no one would ever have to go through what he had experienced so very long ago.
He picked up a small box, took out his carving tools, and inscribed a name at the top of the finished arch. When he was done gilding the letters, he hand rubbed the structure to a soft patina and set it against the wall. He gathered his tools, cleaned his workspace. The shavings went into the deep pockets of his work apron.
Outside, the courtyard reflected the elegant theme of the mansion. A teak table and benches graced the stone patio. Large terracotta jars, planted with trees and ornamental grasses, stood in groupings of three around the edge. Beyond them could be heard the lighthearted melody of water splashing into a hidden pool. Fragrant flowers and herbs lined the curved walkway leading to an unfinished opening, where espaliered fruit trees edged a low garden wall on either side.
The carpenter positioned the arch over the entrance, sliding the posts into the bases he had prepared earlier. He patted the sides of the structure and scattered the shavings on the ground beneath. Taking a few steps back, he checked to see if the arch was straight.
“Perfect,” he whispered.
He unrolled the blueprints of my life and looked at the mansion one more time. “It won’t be long…”
“In My Father’s house are many mansions…I go to prepare a place for you.” John 14:2 KJV
Arcelia © 2003 by Mid Stutsman This children’s story won first place in an online short story contest. The prize was $250 and publication for a year.
Bright sunlight glinted off a piece of gold for a brief moment, just long enough to grab the curiosity of two dark eyes.
Padding over the scorched earth, calloused feet found their way to the mound of stones by the wayside, and a short figure squatted to look for the treasure.
Sun-browned fingers dug through the hot earth, prying small rocks out of the way. Concentrating on her mission, a young girl didn’t hear the voices on the road diminish and die away, and in the heat of the day a party of weary travelers trudged homeward, unmindful of the small child hidden from view.
~*~
Pebbles and dirt flew behind the determined seeker, who worked with the fervor of a prairie dog digging a new tunnel. Failing to find it in one spot, she scooted to another. Her alert eyes were intent, ever searching–her heart ever hopeful.
Sweat gathered on her forehead and trickled down the side of her face, attracting a fly to the dirty rivulets of salt. She wiped the nuisance away with the back of her hand and continued the quest, oblivious to her surroundings and unaware she was alone. She only knew she wasn’t leaving until the treasure was in her hands.
The little body soon cast a long shadow and thirst crept in. Sitting back on her haunches, she looked around, and for the first time since midday, the silence caught her attention. Standing in a panic, she called out, but no one answered. That’s when she saw it again. She snatched up the gold coin and ran toward the empty road.
~*~
“But I thought she was with you!”
A desperate young woman shoved her way through the crowd. “Has anyone seen our little girl?”
Heads shook. People looked perplexed. The question made its way around and came back unanswered. The young mother staggered, but her husband was there to hold her up, and she hid her anguish in the folds of his garment.
Helping her to their home, the young man stopped at the door and wrapped his wife in his arms. “Don’t worry, our friends will help me search; she can’t be far.” He lifted her face with one hand and wiped tears away before kissing her good-bye. “I’ll find someone to help you with your father.”
~*~
Clutching the gold metal to her pounding heart, the little girl called out every name she could remember. She stopped for a minute and listened, but the wind was silent as she stared down the desolate road. Fields of dry stubble, pocked with scattered stones, stretched out on either side and climbed into the arms of the foothills. Sandstone cliffs lined the horizon beyond and reminded her of the deep furrows on grandfather’s weathered face.
Grandfather. She thought of how sick he’d become and how they never had enough money for food or medicine. Opening up her grubby fingers, she smiled and started running again.
Overhead a cry of “keyir-keyir” pierced the turquoise sky, and a dark shape dove straight for the little girl. Too scared to scream, she ducked. A whoosh from massive wings blew her hair back, and razor-sharp talons extended before her eyes. Now aware of a venomous creature thrashing about, she scrambled to her feet and watched the raptor lift it heavenward. Grandfather’s words rang true in her ears, “Where the eagles fly, blessings will follow.”
Just then the ground trembled, and a low rumble sounded behind. Her blessing faded fast. Twisting around, she saw a dust cloud coming her way, and she hurried to the nearest rock formation.
~*~
Peeking around the side of her stone fortress, the little girl watched a blur of brown leather boots pounding the hard packed earth in perfect cadence. Row after row of armor and weapons passed, followed by artillery and cavalry. She turned away and hugged her knees.
As soon as the noise subsided, dust filtered down through the air and coated her like momma’s floured hands on baking day. It irritated her parched throat. She stifled a cough and crept out on her hands and knees. When she stood, she shook the fluffy dirt from her feet and glanced at the sky ablaze with intense beauty. Now a new fear gripped her, for the terrors of nighttime would soon follow.
She knew she had to get home, but the sound of creaking leather stopped her in her tracks. A Centurion sat astride his horse with one leg slung over the saddle. He frowned down at her. She gripped the coin, putting her hand behind her as she backed away; her wide eyes fixed on his.
“So. A little urchin out here in the middle of nowhere.” He slid off the horse. “Are you lost?” When she nodded, he looked around. “Where do you live?”
She pointed down the road just as the gold piece dropped. It disappeared in a poof of dust, but before the officer could react, it was back in her fist. “It’s mine!”
His gruff voice dissolved into laughter. “Ah ha, so you can talk!” He studied her condition for a moment, and then removed an object from around his neck. “What’s your name?”
~*~
The grief stricken man held his wife close. “The soldiers on the road said they didn’t see her; I don’t know how she’ll make it through the…”
At first the couple stared in disbelief when they saw the approaching rider, and then they broke into a run and held out their hands.
Pulling away from the hugs and kisses, the little girl shook a coin free from a fringed leather pouch around her neck.
“Look what I found!”
Her mother gasped, and her father cast a fearful look at the Centurion, but to their surprise his eyes held a smile as he reined his horse around.
“Treasures…for a Treasure.” He touched the brim of his helmet and returned Arcelia’s wave before riding away.
