Will you join me

I glanced up high ,

the sky’s so blue!

It such a perfect hue!

It captures light

and then reflects

the wonder of this earth –

as if to say

it really is

a gift!

 

I stopped and heard

the wind that blew.

It tickled me

as if it knew

just how to brush my ear!

I feel alive

as with my eyes

I drink in colour’s wine

and sing!

 

I laughed within,

I think I’m buzzed!

This world is quite unique.

There’s ants and bugs,

and little ducks,

that cause my eyes to glow.

This gift of life,

I hold it high-

and dance!

Author – Bill Tidsbury

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Journey’s curves

To yield, to seek, to laugh, to love;

The journey flows between the hills.

The curves ahead obscure the view,

of what will flow from each day’s tread.

I wander through this novel place.

It’s full of beauty, of fragrance full,

with moments shifting from grey to blue.

Hearts are seen as caresses grace

the moments we share unseen.

Then, hope gives way to loss.

Darkness floods the gloom

yet, brightened by the rising moon.

Glorious day soon paints things bright.

Pastel glory shines upon the hills.

Life renewed –

time again to choose-

my dream!

Author – Bill Tidsbury

Contagious vitality

Joy that springs

and dance that flings-

this radiance of a heart that lives

aflame!

Quiet whispers

that speak of grace.

Sparks lighting up the depths-

as fireflies!

Eyes that twinkle.

Hidden sparkles

reaching past infinity –

”Being” is found!!

Vibrant and alive,

the colours blossom,

the laughter soars-

as live is lived!

Holding hands-

heads thrown back.

Contagious vitality

in tranquility.

Author – Bill Tidsbury

When I am seen

When I am seen as the one who is “different”,

I am called to shine –

the light of perspective that sees what others can’t; the hope that all can be unique!

When I am envied as the one who is “beautiful”,

I am called to weep –

For the one who has never been affirmed; who has never been sought after.

When I am fawned over as the one who is “richer”

I am called to love –

the one who is orphaned; the one who feels robbed of life’s opportunity.

When I am pushed aside as the one who is “poorer” –

I am called to give –

to the one who has lost their heart; to the powerful – who still longs for intimacy.

When I am mocked as the one who is “naive”,

I am called to laugh-

in the joy of innocence; in the wonder of freshness; in the blessing of hope!

When I am minimized as the one who is “broken”,

I am called to courage –

in the surety of process; in the freedom of healing; in the hope of grace.

When I am vibrant in the reality of who I am in the moment,

I am called to “be” –

with the one who is richer or poorer, different or beautiful, naive or “broken”,

 

and as “us” -celebrate the gift of Life.

Author – Bill Tidsbury

Unplanted roots

I dug a plant up with a  spade,

I made a hole, I marked a  grave.

The plant though whole is now forlorn.

It’s lost it’s place beneath the sun!

When planted deep – I saw its leaf.

A perfect form all green and bright.

I dug it up, and saw it’s source

Its roots where white yet bathed in dirt.

I sensed perfection of design.

I stood amazed – all parts complete!

I then had insight from Spirit’s brush,

the plant though whole was on death row!

We all have context, mark our space.

We sense our individual parts intact.

Yet still we wander dying dry,

not grasping that, my roots need place.

When I depend on life that flows,

from  sources deep yet veiled, unseen,

I draw my life up deep within

then bless with fruit, as I laugh and grin.

Author – Bill Tidsbury

I didn’t know

I need , I hear, a word of praise.

I drink, I glow, it feeds my soul.

I’m shocked, I’m stopped, could this be so?

I shake it off, “it couldn’t be!”

 

I need, I see, a smile of love.

I grin, I laugh, I feel the hug.

I twist, I ask – can this be real?

I hide within, alone today.

 

I need, I sense, a gentle touch.

I’m warmed, I’m blessed, by just that brush.

I look, I’m caught – Is this your face?

I can not hide, you’re in my space!

 

I need, I love, what youI didhave done.

I wake, I twirl, inside my dream.

I hope, I reach, Is this my place?

I did not know, I dance when free!

Author – Bill Tidsbury