Eyes that sing

What I seek I rarely find

it really is a curiosity!

I thirst for things I can’t define

and when I drink I don’t find wine.

It slips within and causes ache

and then I wish I hadn’t tried.

 

The promise always seems alive,

I see it clearly before my eyes.

I reach to touch, the vapour goes –

now I feel the fool once more.

I want to hide; I yearn to slide,

beneath my chair and simply die.

 

Yet still the thirst won’t go away.

It is so real, it cries for more.

There’s so much water within an ocean,

yet none of it will answer thirst!

Can there be thirst without some drink,

that satisfies and doesn’t stink?

 

And so I wander seeking rest,

to drink – to find inheritance.

To grasp and hold the things that thrive,

that flourish in a heart that’s live.

I know this thirst can still be quenched,

’cause eyes that sing are satisfied!

Author – Bill Tidsbury

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Beautiful culture

Anyone can detect that which is less than ideal. My eye is amazing at picking out the detail of imperfection – whether in what should be a straight line, or a “perfect” smile. Culture trains us to discern nuance. What is stylish; what is acceptable: what is beautiful; what can I do without?

The reality is that I have been sculpted to gravitate towards those who fit the mould labeled “valued”. It takes grit to turn my heart from superficial fickle appearances to the undiscovered beauty that awaits discovery behind eyes that lie empty.

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An apple seed contains the future tree in all its glorious splendour. Interestingly, it bears no resemblance to its promise. The tree’s tremendous complexity and fruitfulness is encoded within its depths. This future reality is difficult to perceive and identify. I value a seed for what it will be as much as for what it is. The two are vitally linked.

A seed planted and nurtured opens the power of a harvest that is well worth waiting for.

Beautiful culture that is rich and rewarding requires my investment in the seeds of those around me. Unless we cultivate the treasure of each other, we will consume our inheritance in the desperation of the moment. What we create is a barren desert for those who come after us. All the while I criticized the imperfection of seeds that were never given the chance to germinate!

Author – Bill Tidsbury

What is my name?

A shining heart ignites a smile, when one look reminds a tender soul that they have never been forgotten.

I am built with the desire to be significant to you. I want to matter enough, to make a strong enough impression, that you remember my name. My name says you know who I am! I wasn’t just one of many in a crowd.

Nothing is so powerful, as the look of hunger and longing in a child’s face when you return to a place, as someone who in the past has spoken an encouraging word. Somehow, simple words and actions caused some spark of hope to blossom in the ravaged field of a  soul who has experienced much scarcity. The blazing furnace of longing rises in the eyes as they say “Do you remember my name?”

What spurs the leap of laughter and delight? What part of our being produces the surge of joy and the heat warming response of a fierce hug when “the” name flows out?

My tender heart, if left unwalled will always say I need you! My eyes will always look across the gulf that separates you and I.  These eyes will seek to find some link that penetrates behind the veil that mysteriously shuts us out from each other. When my soul and spirit touch that which is warm and bright within your being and I re-affirm the wonder that our two hearts have walked a lonely journey, we smile! Light glows. Sparkles dance. Music occurs and the mystery of belonging grows.

We feel the grace of our shared lives.  We know we are so different  – and yet – there is a flow that nourishes and refreshes. I sense that I am not alone. I am not forgotten. My identity, so tied to spirit, is created for this. I must belong together in communion. The thirst never goes away until together we find a way to live as beings who are intimately known.

So the unfolding blossom of a tender soul, leaps high within the rain of recognition that comes from my name remembered. I am known! I made an impact!

I am a being that is remembered – and I glow!

Author – Bill Tidsbury

Life lived

Life lived is gritty.

I wrestle with such broken things

and find my nails have filled with crud!

It’s hard to grasp things when their slimed,

they slip away, and then you find,

they hit you on the head!

 

Life lived is bumpy.

I merrily drift along – my life intact,

until a turn slams me to the ground!

And then as potholes throw me round,

I find I’m bruised, and then with dread

I hit that spot again!

 

Life lived is precious.

I find a hand supporting me.

Your eyes reach out to ease my pain.

And suddenly I’m me again!

I find a joy. I share a laugh.

Sharing opens doors to gold!

 

Life lived is positive.

I’m free again to hold your hand.

I hold a child tight and how she sings!

Kids snuggle in and whisper things,

that open wide such happy tunes.

Then eyes alight  – we dance!

Author – Bill Tidsbury

Unfurl the sail

I live in peace, I live in grace.It is a wonder to seek your face.

The air is vital with hints of fire, because of love’s ambient desire.

My spirit leaps when hope distills within the eyes of one who’s real.

The joy of heaven’s gate opened wide, that stirs alive the coals that died.

 

The smile that lights a child’s small face, when laughter’s sparkle joins the race.

The glow that shines in adoring eyes, that savour intimacy’s warm embrace.

The comfort of hands that brush and share, ignites the twinkle in heart’s that dare.

These all sing out your tender hymn that opens spirit to blessing’s whim.

 

So standing firm within the veil, I reach and leap to unfurl the sail.

The wind that lifts and shapes my course is full of life with no remorse.

I hold your hand, my life entwined, with other dear ones so inclined.

Shifting direction with surging splash, we explore horizon’s inviting rush.

Author – Bill Tidsbury

The flame of trust

To trust without a guarded heart,

helps me to see beyond my fears.

There is a path of freedom here.

If only you show the way!

 

To hope that you can show me how,

releases grace to trust somehow.

Yet in the quiet, behind the walls,

I still do shiver in dread.

 

Who do I face when I cannot trust?

What is the force that blinds my eye?

Why do the chains so pull me near,

to that which thrives on fear?

 

And yet the flame of trust does burn,

and as it burns it clears my head.

I see again what beauty is,

And see my world – arisen from the dead.

 

The mystery of a fearless life,

is like a beacon on a storm tossed sea.

It pulls me in and guides me true,

To soar above and enjoy the view.

Author – Bill Tidsbury

Daring to live

One man lies , another man dies, fear’s breaking of trust’s fine thread.

A lie leaps from panic, it’s promise to hide, as deadly as ocean’s riptide.

 

A woman weeps and a man just sleeps, sampling their pain as they run.

We seek some release, while choked by despair, dying as we bounce downstairs.

 

A mother awakes, a baby partakes – its part of life without sleep!

A sacrifice lived, a love framed in flesh, breathes sparks that friends can nourish.

 

A boy lifts a hand, a girl takes a stand, it’s courage that makes us aware.

We feel the heroic, the craziness flowing, when hope sees love’s eyes glowing!

Author – Bill Tidsbury