Windstruck Words

[Ragamuffin_John 568]

By and large, I've gone through an extensive period of time of limited writing.    And for some odd reason, it has not been an uncomfortable interlude.   There's much in the Scriptures that has been jumping off the page, convicting the heart, and refocusing/reshaping the mind.   This, of course, affects all of one's life.   I find the reset refreshing, and a sense of new purposes is emerging .  . .

 

There has been a poetry reaching toward the page

Felt between the tree bark of Blue Ridge forestry,

Windstruck words defying print—who copyright’s the heart?

Yet, shall I echo in some strange way what prototypes impart?

Here, in this club so honored to see creation’s hints

That celebrate Creator and all createdness,

Amidst the strokes of pen and clock, a mortal merely writes.

What blessed audacity it is to mark down what inspires!

None of this ink is invisible, for appearing some other day.

Its shelf life comes and goes and whilst it's here I scratch away.