he avoids work on two pillars of our front porch: mismatched, slightly noticeable but definitely different…manufacturer sent him an alternate color which was not apparent until installed and now considered permanent.
it’s like marriage of two people, pillars of the family: mismatched, probably noticeable, and definitely different…manufacturer (GOD) sent provisional individual but all was not apparent until installed and now considered permanent.
perhaps that was designer’s plan and purpose: opposite pillars stay where they are as He works on them; two who vowed to stand by each other, both a bit offbeat. even though the effect is dissimilar, together they can hold up the roof.
… that pagan, yet spiritual, minds become superstitious in the end.
– after listening to “White Horse Inn” podcast discussion of Michael Horton’s book, Shaman and Sage: The Roots of “Spiritual But Not Religious” in Antiquity
life’s locomotive rumbles down track with muscled horsepower multiplied once it leaves station, cannot turn back so one must trust train is well-supplied.
who is the engineer guiding this train? he’s the one who knows the destination he stays at throttle through sunshine-rain brings it safely through line’s every station.
i know the conductor, he’s engineer’s son, my worn ticket he will stamp and receive i’ll travel with him till my journey is done; holy faith-powered…you too can believe!
At dVerse poets’ pub, Punam invites us to travel by train. My oldest son worked as a train engineerand gave us this framed print which hangs in our home. “Santa Fe” is translated “holy faith”.
Linking to dVerse poetics and feeling nostalgic with Lillian this evening…
in comfortable chair with eager arms she opens book to uncover its charms from pages living letters, words escape in visions of an author’s storyscape; such rich imaginations fill her head with true ideals, aspiring soul is fed. her heart in chest does real affection swell how many pleasant hours she’ll not tell; another’s point of view now understood to grow inside with character proves good. she wanders on from scene to shining scene and wonders what a metaphor might mean. reader will thrill at unexpected plot; whether one owns a signed copy or not.
Linking to dVerse where Bjorn hosts onomatopoeia poetry prompt…
clouds gather darkly thunder rrrumbles wind whooshes wild through trembling trees; leaves twitter with ppips of raindrops…plopps on gravel road…drumms atop car roof; aloof to river rapids churling, swirling swiftly along, rushing, gushing underneath old bridge as it creaks rustily.
a poem in my pocket 
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