Journey into Love: Courage

Courage calls me out to dare, to hope, believe there’s more out there.

It is a risk to leap against,

all past experience and my dread.

Yet, deep within my spirit breathes.

It is connected to a fire that lives.

It casts a light upon my dread and breaks the lies that keep me dead.

So,

rising up to dance unchained,

I crush the broken hell of shame

and lift my head to eyes that live

and speak my name in ways that make me feel again.

Author – Bill Tidsbury

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Free to be

Vast! Stillness, open space

lifts my being into grace.

As eye meets distance and rebounds,

my spirit grasps

and poised forever on the brink,

I smoothly flow as if a speck!

 

So, I dance in hyper-space,

intertwined in love that’s lace.

My heart disperses. Scattered wide,

my being weaves;

while conscious streams, as golden threads,

form beauty and replace all dreads.

 

Still! While inner negations yield,

presence sings, calling sweetly.

Knowing slips within unknowing.

My spirit’s subtle!

Blossom’s grace embraces fire,

and free to be – now flying higher!

Author – Bill Tidsbury

Hope’s grace

A woman attacked alone in the dark,

A robber assails with knife and the shock.

The fear that leaped up to devour and consume,

now feeds in a frenzy in a heart torn by gloom.

She sits and is broken – her face stitched and torn.

Her heart is so empty – she sits all alone,

The health care is broken, her tendons are cut.

She needs hearts that bear life and help her to trust.

 

Grace is so so willing to reach and to weep.

It takes just one action so eyes can light up.

A presence envelopes as a hand reaches out.

A heart that is gentle, stills death’s hateful shout.

Moments are precious, when fear meets with love,

it’s gentle yet present, and halts frenzy’s shove.

When Spirit caresses and pours helping balm,

on wounds that are ragged and torn by much harm.

 

Hope is the answer! It rises above.

It infiltrates slowly, and awakens the dove.

The battle is fiercest when fear has to flee.

Yet when it is vanquished, hope’s grace sings to me.

Author – Bill Tidsbury

On being the One.

Young girl with eyes so bright,

listens with hope instead of fright.

The hope is strong, I can feel the shift,

of power found, of dreams that lift.

The spirit deep within her feels,

the awakening hint of sparks that flare.

She senses deep within a force.

that yearns for her to dance of course!

The music hints of a grander role,

so tied to dreams once only mourned.

Her breath at moments, is caught and held,

as mystery sings and her heart just rings.

It all connects with the Spirit’s breath,

whose fire inspires as she flees her death.

The power flows freely to break the chains,

of life that’s lived under fears domain.

 

She sits up straighter-

her eyes are clear!

There’s steel in her backbone!

There’s strength in her arm!

She’s stepped out of passive

she’s ready to run,

with dreams that inspire

to actually become!

 

The sun still is shining, the rain will still fall,

but she has become the valiant, the One!

Author – Bill Tidsbury

Reaching Beyond

Eyes that sing even when heart’s still weighed.

Eyes that open hope’s grace while frayed.

Heart that battles to live with light

even though mercy has taken flight.

 

Smile that reaches beyond the form.

Smile that sings during the storm.

Body though bent and doubled with age,

still has strength to shatter the cage.

 

Hand that reaches out to caress.

Hand that’s broken yet still can bless.

Spirit undaunted that’s framed to shine,

all of the wonder of what’s sublime.

Author – Bill Tidsbury

Living still

Peace is a feeling

that rests in my gut.

Quiet is gentle

and never acts rough.

Stillness feels soothing

when tremor’s fear sears.

Rest is the trust

in a child’s sweet sigh.

 

Peace is a river

that gentles my heart.

Quiet is a mist

that blankets my sighs.

Stillness is a sea

that’s smooth as glass.

Rest is a well

that is crystal and sure.

 

Peace is eternal

and answers life’s call.

Quiet is the whisper

of the Father’s sweet hush.

Stillness is the comfort

of the Lover’s caress.

Rest is the answer

when the Spirit does bless.

Author – Bill Tidsbury