Securely me

Honesty moves a Daddy’s heart. He sees me as I am – so why shouldn’t I? Since this one who loves, first touched my being, He’s ever only called me into dreams.

Transparency is hard to value, when others seem quick to judge. Yet when I’m in the Spirit’s presence, my flesh just tingles as His fire disrobes my shame – and I am free!

Tranquility drapes expansively as I settle into love. The one who holds my gaze has eyes that flame and yet weep tears. He died to live that I might be, forever found securely me.

Author – Bill Tidsbury


Who are you


sparks a note, that simply resounds.

It is such joy to be around.



sees through eyes that shine.

My heart feels like I have dined!



seems so out of place,

until that smile lights up your face!



captures a beauty that so rare,

creating a form that’s full of flair!

Author – Bill Tidsbury

When we scurry

It is work to walk by thousands

always seeing never seen.

Eyes that hide while being open

afraid to meet a stranger’s gaze.


Wishing just for peace and shelter,

but somehow finding isolation’s rage.

Sorrows burden bringing silence.

Hiding us in death’s despair.

Pain and all its broken whispers

stretch out claws to draw out blood.

As we shelter, looking inward,

people stream by just outside.


It so hard to shift the focus

shifting eyes to something bright.

Hear a voice that’s somehow sweeter-

feel what stirs then bursts in song.

Colour’s textures, filter through it-

a tantalizing master piece of love!

Startle’s interruption forming –

eyes that penetrate the veil.


Riches can not buy the sweetness

of the effervescent kiss of light.

Being known and being welcomed

is the Spirit’s way to life.

Author – Bill Tidsbury

Life is

Life is so fragile, I chose to protect it’s wonder with walls that drown and are hard.

Now I’ve released it alive to dance free, the glory of living – found in transparency.


Life is a palette so clean and unmarked. Yet quickly gets filled with colours that swirl.

The radiance mixed, paints a canvas with style while leaving the palette the work of a child!


Life is a whisper, caressed in my dreams – in stillness beauty can blossom serene.

So often I’ve missed it, while racing to be, somewhere important to fears that aren’t me!


Life is a breath, so vital yet airy. It’s substance seems missing, yet fills me with joy.

Released in the mystery of joy’s perfect heart, finds its companion to sing beauty’s art.


Life is a bubble, so shiny and bright. It grows and extends till grasped by  the wind.

So bright and mysterious, it floats in the breeze, till ending the journey – touching earth and leaves.

Author – Bill Tidsbury

Grace whispers


Sensing stillness.

Grace whispers gently.

Clamouring expectations left behind.

Accepting my choices for today.

Passing through quiet’s portal to presence.

Lingering fog of bleakness – doubting Jesus’s passion.

My chosen path embraces life’s mysteries.

Stepping into faith with longing.

Committed to transparent vitality.

Spirit’s welcome presence.

He caresses!


Author – Bill Tidsbury

Canadian waiting room

People peer and people hide, people scurry around inside.

Busy lives occupied, and then collide! – caught in a waiting room.

Different journeys all coincide, they pull us together, side by side.

Some are sick and others tired; one is supporting while another strides.

All together in one room, waiting their turn to leave this doom.


Eyes are glued to cell displays, some are earnest with video games,

All can feel each other’s vibes, crowded around yet locked outside.

Brief encounters cause a smile, especially when caused by an innocent tike.

In spite of proximity, silence reigns, then there’s a giggle that doesn’t end.

Transparency’s blessing brings relief, as one small child distracts his friend.


Busy lives wrenched by chaotic waves, yet walls erected keep things “safe”.

People drift in with worries and fears, shrivel within because no one dares.

Kept apart by fearful restraint, tumbled lives twirl with no incident.

Alone and silent, each in turn, take harried hearts in for pills that burn.

Each of us miss the  treasure beside us, because we insist on the silence that hides us.

Author – Bill Tidsbury

Ancient echoes

A man who falls and never rises is a man dead before his time. Pride really does come before a fall, and then a shattering encounter with frailty lashes us to die. So men wander spent and drunk, always dying, never dead. Caught between the living  hell of knowing and the oblivious death of stupor. Can hope ever live when faced with such a death?

A man swiftly sees a generous soul as a place to weep and wail; hoping for a small deposit to aid the journey down. Eyes that see in love, stop a hiding heart. Defences leap and distance quickly gains reprieve, while aching ears hear mercy and compassion’s hopeful song. Honour’s   call seems out of place. Can anything penetrate stupor’s haze?

Spirit’s song sings a deeper note than any drug can dare. Hidden treasures deep within hopeless castle’s depths stir to wakefulness. Ancient echoes of life’s full bloom, resonate within these dungeon corridors. A forgotten fragrance rises invading space and time as an ancient soul wakens up to life’s creative possibility. Can it be?

Tears pour down as memory’s journey opens wounds locked in silent agony. Hope comes uninvited to the fore. Struggle rumbles and whispers counter seditious lies that would hint life could once again be held as dear. In the balance, a future leaving legacy for dreams or the rapid slide to old oblivion. Who can win if one is weak?

Mysteries are part of darkness and this light. What seems dark can only be full of light if love’s transparency is loosed. Desperate cries that mumble unspoken grief rise before a fountain that so easily loosens deadly chains. Impossible is only found within the dark. Light plays wild and paints a dream of transformed joy. Can I believe?

Author – Bill Tidsbury