tribute – penned in moon dust

Kayla’s Song #devotion #poetry #kaylamueller

Faith, Poetry

“The part of me that pains the most

also gets me out of bed…”

The memory of all He’s done

so little I have to dread

without your hope there is nothing left

no sky, no hills, no sea

But with the loving knowledge I hold

None can break the will in me

Look up behold His nail pierced hands

no longer on that tree

the Lord sent on a servant’s deed

He came and rescued me

You men of terror

I shed a tear

You score your life with death

my savior rules with love divine

you are lost eternally bereft

“The part of me that pains the most

also gets me out of bed…”

The victory in all He’s done

I am not afraid of death

“I find God in the suffering eyes reflected in mine. If this is how You (God) are revealed to me, this is how I will forever seek You.” Kayla Jean Mueller (a martyr at the hands of ISIS)

You have probably heard of the senseless death of Kayla Jean Mueller- be inspired by her faith and her victory.

This poem is inspired by the last letter that her parents received from women that were released who shared a cell with Kayla. The italicized words are her own.

You can read her letter here.

Kayla is not the only martyr in this reign of terror. Be strong and courageous for the days are filled with evil…

“The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.”

John 10:10

“When hard pressed, I cried to the Lord; He brought me into a spacious place.
The Lord is with me; I will not be afraid. What can mere mortals do to me?
The Lord is with me; he is my helper. I look in triumph on my enemies.”

Psalm 118:5-7

“If God is for us who can be against us?”

Romans 8:31

Piere Chalory and the Twin Towers #911 #NYC #art

art, history, Home, Our World

Today marks the 13th year anniversary of 9/11. Can we forget the horrific footage of planes banking into their final approach as they attacked the Twin Towers in New York City? Can survivors ever forget the confusion and fear as they felt the impact and the buildings shook. How difficult was it to find an avenue of escape when the air was poisonous and thick?

I have close friends who are survivors and they relive the maze of the Pentagon over and over. They ask “WHY?” Why was I away from my desk? Why was it my co-worker rather than me?” We should never forget this day. It was a day that terror took to the skies and waged war.

twin towers with copy right

597321_3593 photo of twin

I am honored to feature the work of French artist Piere Chalory. The above painting was painted in August 1998. If you look at the photograph of the fractured areas where the planes struck the twin towers, they are really too close for guess work. How did Chalory know? What vision did he see as he went about his normal routine of painting in the abstract world of science fiction? I’m not sure he knows but his work ( a total of 6 paintings) is an indicator of the inevitably of that day.

Titanic in NYC copyrighted

Please check out the link of Chalory’s 9/11 related work Here.

Tomorrow, I will be sharing more of Chalory’s art. I hope you come back to enjoy his inspirational work.

*****

The painting of the statue of liberty carries a message. I would love to encourage you to write something poetry, prose, reflection or haiku in honor of this day. Please link back to this post so I and others will enjoy your tribute.

Traversing Autumn’s Path #poetry #photography #loss

Life's Lessons, Photography, Poetry

Her hands clasped to mine

we walked along autumn’s path

crunching beneath our feet

the remnants of yesterday’s glory

she picked up a leaf

what I thought was dew was a tear

“why do you cry, my love?”

my eyes thoughtful

“life is perishing beneath our feet

we are crushing aged spring

we walk the burial ground of the seasons”

“press this amber leaf against your heart

feel its resonating warmth

hear him tell you his story

let it be a reminder of the past

then welcome the new season

a time for ends and reflection

reach your hands to grasp the snowflakes

purity falls over barren trees

and spring returns to remind us

of that which we have lost

and of that which we might gain”

“another year of this loss?”

I saw her eyes pool

“I don’t think I can bare it”

“but another year of promise as well

life, love and new beginnings

those too will grow in the coming year

one day we will look back

the skeletons beneath our feet

will not sound like death with each step

I will once again look up

and see life blossoming in your eyes”

This week marks the second anniversary of the death of a child in our neighborhood who was tragically swept away by a flash flood The lights represent candles and sentiments that lined the family’s driveway last year. Blue ribbons hang, year round, on our trees, sign posts and mailboxes in memory of this loss..

The Lost Letter #dailypost #history #poetry #photography

Americana, history, Photography, Poetry, post a day, wordpress

Repentant Magdalene - De La Tour 1640 oil — Repentant Magdalene – De La Tour 1640 oil

As I wrote to you these words

tears congealed with blackened ink

this goodbye so hard to write

how I wished I could re-take

You went away to war

tore my heart in two

the uniform I sewed

no longer resembles blue

A woman fights a war

it’s not with guns and spears

we fight inside ourselves

clinging to what is dear

The day I found her lace

I wished it wasn’t so

Perfumed you and adored

it dealt the final blow

Tucked beneath her favor

I’m leaving you this note

wrenched from inside you see

our covenant you broke

So many times I wished

I’d never seen that thing

for what it made me do

I threw away your ring

You wrote to me at length

declared unfailing love

how could you still claim that

with all that had been done

On hardened path you did return

a wounded, changed man

stump hidden in your sleeve

I couldn’t grasp your hand

The twinkle in those eyes

they still retained that smile

with all that they had seen

over all the bloodied miles

I asked about the words

I’d tucked into your shirt

the paper had gone missing

tramped about the dirt

I had to brave the lace

you assured that it was gone

no longer fragrant starched

just dirtied torn and brown

your crooked smile held back the pain

“I never loved her dear

white favors thrown into the wind

her death ominous and near

cannon ball fury pierced the night

she raced injured to save

mercy had all but been undone

we laid her in hollow grave

I begged, cried “forgiveness please”

he said ” I owe you none

you are my heart’s strong shielding

a precious gift sent from above”

***

The Daily Post challenge was “Dialogue.” I hope you hear the voices from the past in this poem; a dialogue of pain and hope.

Tomorrow is the 151st anniversary of the bloody battle of Antietam – this a tribute to love, life, and life lost.

Been enjoying these dialogues:

Dont Forget 9/11 #poetry

Poetry

Please visit the site Fragments of 9/11 – My tribute poem for this day – Don’t Forget

Reliant on Memories #tribute #poetry #WW2

Our World

Reliant on memories

we never made

I was young

when laid in the grave

Reliant on memories

a girls first kiss

all the loves

that we would miss

Reliant on memories

the way I laughed

you’ll always have

don’t hold it back

Reliant on memories

a piece of me

will always stay

alive and free

Reliant on memories

will have to do

I will live on

because you made it through

***

My poem is in tribute to a poet and heroine Hanna Szenes whose birthday is today.

Hanna a gifted poet was a brave young woman who believed in a cause. On March 1944 she parachuted into Yugoslavia on a mission to help rescue Hungarian Jews about to be deported to Auschwitz. She was caught on the Hungarian border and tortured (by the Germans) with the hope of gaining valuable information. Because she would not give information, they imprisoned her mother as well. While captive, she looked for ways (like a mirror) to send encouragement to fellow prisoners. Hanna was executed in November 1944 by a firing squad and remembered as a heroine of Israel. She was 23 at her death.

These are the words of one of her last poems:

Blessed is the match consumed in kindling flame

Blessed is the flame that burns in the secret fastness of the heart.

Blessed is the heart with strength to stop its beating for honor’s sake.

Blessed is the match consumed in kindling flame.

More about Hannah here.

The Lone Daisy #poetry #photography #death

Love, Photography, Poetry

The lone daisy

reminds me of her sunny smile

tender heart that won mine

The lone daisy

a radiant warmth

embracing love’s time

The lone daisy

shines a cheerful glow

day our son came home

The lone daisy

like a pencil in her ear

kind words for those alone

The lone daisy

picked too soon

death gives no reason

The lone daisy

settles on her grave

we apart for a short season

These words are tearfully written in tribute to a woman (Jaye Lynn) who died much too soon. And for a husband (Chris Wood) who looks for sonshine in the little things.