Little girl

Little girl playing –

surprise, a stranger!

– he’s a grandpa

on the other side of glass!

Her nose is touching

the cold of window,

eyes are glinting with delight!

A little hand gesture,

a small warm smile,

is all it takes,

to spark a glow.

Life is simple,

grace will meet us,

When we breathe

inside your love.

Author – Bill Tidsbury

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Drink Deep

Drink deep of life!

Life is real not jaded. Life is vibrant and embraces hope.

Life sees past the debris of circumstances and invites curiosity!

Life delights in twinkle, in reality – the grittiness of the journey and yet always opens the door of hope.

 

Life dwells in joy, in peace and in the hope of what others can be through grace.

Life shares a belief in others; Invites others up to the image of what they think they have lost.

 

To speak Life is to create a harmonic that has to shift things within each soul that hungers.

Speaking Life awakens the fire.

Speaking Life startles the spirit within!

Life says all is not lost.

I am heard; I’ve been responded to; I am not dead.

Vitality still has an echo within me!

 

So

 

I believe!

I believe in the beauty of Life.

I know that I know that Life is a gift and that You are its author.

I know that each expression of Life is a treasure.

It is worth everything to awaken Life –

 to delight in the startling wonder   ———   of Life emergent.

Author – Bill Tidsbury

Leaving fear

When God seems distant and unaware,

when forces surge and tempers flare,

when all is dark and dread draws near,

what can make the heart not fear?

 

If Spirit laughs and then appears

transcending time as vision clears,

if mirth erupts and eyes are bright,

how does the shift dispel my fright?

 

How does my heart walk in between,

the dark of night and joy unseen?

How do I balance in the yearning

of things I hope for and yet not being?

 

When I stumble and seem to fall.

All is lost – and yet not at all.

For in that shock I left my fear.

I found that hope became my seer!

Author – Bill Tidsbury

Craft a treasure

Craftsman shaping – seeing possibilities in a broken shell!

Eyes that see uniquely, while others only stare.

Grasping some elusive vision – touching what’s in pieces,

He carves within hard shell his visionary form.

 

Sated eyes that drift, always glancing never seeing further,

The darting shows they’re not within their comfort zone.

They left a cruise ship far away and wander seeking,

for an electric happenstance to give them form.

 

I am shaping what I touch, yet often simply unaware.

My eyes if drifting, need to see the grace that’s itching to be formed.

When my destiny with pressure rumbles,

will I craft a treasure in my tattered soul,

or, simply what till someone shapes my form?

Author – Bill Tidsbury

Letting “being” rise

Quiet night, crickets chirp and jam,

Ocean breezes drift across my way.

Star are bright, as peace writes in the sand.

My heart is resting as pressures fade!

 

Surf’s a rumble, distant – far away,

Yet it’s rhythm creates a comfort true.

Accepting each new instant’s sonnet,

Breathes in me the need to hope anew.

 

Resting, always in a moment.

Breathing slowly, letting “being” rise.

Being anchored in the grace of heaven,

while you whisper gently by my side.

Author – Bill Tidsbury

Storms

“What is rest?” I asked.

I heard no voice as my mind raced seeking answers!

“How do I still my mind?” I asked.

I had no peace as I wrestled to be still!

“How can I find peace?” I cried.

I found fear as my storm of despair raged wild!

Undone, I turned from deep within, to sense the storm I could not fight.

A voice said – “I am here! Peace – be still!”

Author – Bill Tidsbury

Any sense of you

When we live within what’s comfort,

When my normal looms large and strong,

That is when I most likely lose,

any sense of you at all.

 

When I see you acting strangely,

I can quickly then conclude,

That is why I’m so much better

than you, the one whose plans are loose!

 

When I am struggling with things beyond me,

when I need fresh glimpses in my muse,

Then I am bereft of comfort,

As I stumble blind – confused.

 

It is your hand that brushes by me,

breaks into my thoughts and fear.

You are different, so see in colour,

while black and white just brings me grey.

 

It hurts my heart to need another,

I am scared and fear to trust.

When I open and face your beauty,

I find strength in your difference.

 

So to chose each day’s discomfort,

bridging difference in the storm.

As I rest in hope believing,

you’re my complement reborn.

Author – Bill Tidsbury