As I celebrate my birthMONTH, I must give a shout out to Warren over at “A Love Story” for this beautiful poetic tribute and my dear friend for this equally beautiful greeting card. Together their thoughtfulness equals a gift worth treasuring and amplifying.
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blessed with style, grace and oh yes much attitude radiance suspended in time like an interlude you don’t go girl, you flow girl no question, it is your world Enjoy your birthday
Afterword: When your friend honors your love of poetry and writes you a poem to celebrate your birthday. All credit to Michael Cabero.
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to yourself… to see you more and better, to heal you
***
charmed resignation
of expectations
in freedom… of your occupation, your holds, to your dreams
***
purposeful reclaimation
of growth
each year… a journey to discover, the awesomeness in you
***
Afterword: each year my dearest friend, my chomma, writes me a poem for my birthday. This is her 2023 poetic celebration of my life journey and our friendship. All credit to Amanda “Mando” Khoza.
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The week is long. The weekend is short. Midweek is a good point to recharge to get over the hump. Keep moving. Happy hump day!
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“Ark of Return”—a sculpture commissioned by the United Nations to commemorate the end of slave trade (UN NY Headquarters) to coincide with the International Day of remembrance for the victims of slavery
Slavery Transatlantic Trade Families … torn away Millions deprived, trauma … generations span
Prejudice Harmful norms live on Impact then … continues … today, racist legacy … reverberating
See the world … through ethical lens Status quo … transforming Education needed, to … end injustice now
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Afterword: The gwawdodyn byr is a sestet (or six-line stanza) form with 9 syllables in the first 4 lines; 10 syllables in the final 2 lines; lines 1-4 and 6 end rhyme; the end of line 5 rhymes with a syllable in line 6.
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As the world’s attention is focused on this day of love—Valentine’s Day—sending out a prayer that we outdo each other in/with LOVE.
Happy Valentine’s Day!!!!
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Ships arrived Fourteen-ninety-two Conquest of Paradise A place can’t be “discovered” Where people were found
Afterword: Shadorma is a Spanish 6-line syllabic poem of 3/5/3/3/7/5 syllable lines respectively. Simple as that.
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When I first moved to NYC I was told NY’s fashion color—its unofficial uniform—is head-to-toe black!
I love the color black (in fact it’s one of my favorite colors). But, like my wardrobe, sometimes you gotta add splashes of color to brighten up the dark patches in life.
The week is long. The weekend is short. Midweek is a good point to recharge to get over the hump. Happy hump day!
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Black History Month poetic tribute to Shirley Chisholm
Create space
Never hesitate
You have voice
There’s a choice
Seat not offered at the table?
Carry your own chair
Afterword: Shadorma is a Spanish 6-line syllabic poem of 3/5/3/3/7/5 syllable lines respectively. Simple as that.
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Some kings rule from iron thrones Disconnected from community reality You’re the King who served from humanity’s throne Who dreamed not in black or white Who envisioned instead a world inclusive Your voice, your vision a great void filling Speaking the language of the unheard Inspiration to persevere, to never stop dreaming Summoning collective longings and eternal hopes For a nation by its noblest ideals is truly living Fighting back against injustice Rallying the call — equality for all Your dream though deferred lives on In a people, like you, souled out for change
In exactly 94 words in honor of Dr King’s 94th birthday—born January 15, 1929
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… also referred to as ‘Dark and Handsome’ or ‘Black swan’. Mother Nature totally rocks with flowers in the full range of the color spectrum including black!!!
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Before-word: Life is line upon line of experiences grouped together like stanzas, arranged like verses in a script // expressed with voice, diction, sound, rhythm, meter // understood through figures of speech, symbolism, allegory, imagery // structured in syntax and scheme // with strong, accurate, interesting words deliberately chosen to give meaning to life — LIFE LIVED IN POETRY.
From the source of spiritual cosmology Conceived in rhythmic movements Birthed through pulsing, pushing Punctuated by intermittent pain and joy Life
Life Giving meaning to the ineffable Obscured in allusions Developed in plots Composed in stanzas Live
Live In fragmented syntax of challenges and victories Linguistic coding lyrics of uninhibited joy with unimaginable sorrow Alliteration of life’s idioms of transformation Reciting poignant epigrams of wondrous elocution Live life
Live life In metres to know and be known Evolving through spiritual healing Resolutely declaimed: live in the everlasting now Climaxing in all that was created
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There’s a cute little bunny that drops by the garden each spring
He’s an elusive frisky little fella
Ears always at attention, pointed straight up to sky like soldier resolute to flight, not fight
At best I’ve managed only to stare longingly at “His Royal Cuteness”
Face pressed up against the window pane, I stare intently
In fear, that even a flutter of my eyelashes and he’ll bow out
This is the year
Armed and ready I am
I’ll not concede or give in on this relentless pursuit
This is the spring where he’ll surrender to the will of my intent
Suspending his whim of flight for a moment long enough for—
Aim . . .
Shoot . . .
Got it!
The shot I’ve been pursuing in spring times past
My spring time bunny visitor
Forever captured, frozen for a moment-in-time, behind bars
Photographed
Caveat: It’s not 99 words or less as Charli asked for this story challenge in 99 words prompt but I couldn’t resist resurrecting this piece from Spring 2021.
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Afterword: Ubuntu” is part of the Zulu phrase “Umuntu ngumuntu ngabantu”, which literally means that a person is a person through other people.
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A well-lived year is like well-worn boots Filled up with memories grounded in roots Sprouting, growing in all the right places Changing, evolving, transforming spaces
Boots worn laid in waste Till nature took ‘em over Unexpectedly
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‘Twas the night before Christmas that Jesus returned All through the universe, not a sound was heard Not a creature stirred, not even a mouse There was half-an-hour’s silence in the Father’s house (Revelation 8:1)
My children reluctantly crawled into bed I tucked them in snugly with a kiss on each head No one said a prayer, and no one was aware That the second coming of Jesus was awfully near
I sat on the sofa, exhausted and tired My favorite show I must watch before I retire As soon as it’s finished, I’ll read the Bible And say a quick prayer, if I’m still able
When out from the east arose such a clatter I sprang to my feet to see what was the matter I raced to the window in a lightning flash Tore open the louvers, and lifted the sash
When what to my wondering eyes should appear But ten thousands of angels proclaiming: “Jesus is here!” Jesus is here? In spite of myself, fear drove me away I wasn’t prepared for this to be the day
Jesus had the Book of Life held in His hand With a thundering voice He called the name of every redeemed one: “Now Mary … now Joseph … now Ruth … where’s Esther? And David … and Dorcas … come on John …where’s Peter?”
No! That can’t all be You still haven’t called me I cried, and wept, and pleaded with Him “Look again—please—my name must be within”
I looked into His eyes, how they narrowed with pain and sorrow As His nail-pierced hand pointed me to my darkest tomorrow “Depart from me, I know you not”, I heard Him sadly say Condemned. No more time to seek forgiveness, I sadly walked away
Then I saw the condemned running to and fro To hide from Him seated upon the majestic throne Their horrid screams penetrate the hollow night They were caught in a dreadful, inescapable fright
Had I not been told, I would not believe The looming, ghastly and frightful scene The whole earth began to heave and shake Great mountains moved by a mighty quake
The bowels of the sea moaned and groaned Sending shivers through an already petrified crowd The lost continued to curse their plight As one by one they were slain by the radiant light
They slept engulfed in death’s deep slumber Undisturbed by the trumpets and a voice so tender It was the voice of Jesus as He summoned the just: “Awake! Arise My children! Time to shake off the dust!”
Into their tombs glorious beams find their way Awaking each with a gentle touch and a sway And one by one they came up from the grave Standing face to face with their Savior of Grace
As quickly as a wink they were all changed Up, up and away they swiftly flew out of range Then I heard Jesus exclaimed ere He rose out of sight: “I’m taking My children home where there’ll be no more night!”
His children. His children did not include me For I had practiced “religion” to a T Squandering salvation gift He gave on the cross And now my soul was eternally lost
I cried in despair as Christ disappeared from my sight If only I knew this would have been the night I would have let go of religious obsessions And brought before the Lord all my sins in confession
If nothing else from this poem fell on your ear Believe me Jesus’ coming is quite near NOW is the time for you to walk in His way Not sooner or later, but right now—today!
Though this poem was a dream, soon it will be The day when Jesus’ return we’ll see Repentance then will be too late Won’t you enter now through mercy’s gate?
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Let everything Let everything that has Let everything that has breath
Breathe Breathe in gratitude Exhale praise
Life Life can play hard sometimes Sucker punches of sickness, hurt Pain that cannot be covered with bandaid or fixed with poetry And just when you think you’re in the game of better plays Life knocks the wind out of you leaving you gasping Making your lungs appreciate the taste of air And it’s precisely on those days when you should
Breathe Breathe in gratitude Exhale praise
So Come along with me on a high climb Up the limbs of life’s “poetree” Sit high upon its lofty branches See above the strife See life See life the way the Creator intended
For He could have painted our home black and white and we’d have never known A shack for a home would have been just fine Instead He gave us a mansion—a globe—wrapped in splendor
With just the bat of His eyelashes, nature jumped in place He suspended the sky like a curtain, secured stars in their sockets, ignited the sun like a fire-ball and told the ocean you can only come this far
Did He have to give the flowers fragrance and the mountains lofty peaks? Was He required to put stripes on the zebra, hump on the camel or make the parrots speak?
No But He did it So my heart stops My jaw drops in awe And my soul erupts like a volcano Lava of praise cascades from within Release Flow Let go, and
Breathe Breathe in gratitude Exhale praise
True There aren’t enough words I can recite to heal all the pain you feel But welcome the rain of surrender, it will wash away every pain, every hurt, if you let it Then bask—bask in the sunshine of God’s favor Sing aloud His praise Raise high His beautiful name
And The next time a sunrise steals your breath or a meadow of flowers leaves you speechless Remain that way Say nothing Listen as He whispers: “Do you like it? I did it just for you”
So Come along with me on a high climb Up the limbs of life’s “poetree” In gratitude let the depth of your soul rings the refrain
And Let everything Let everything that has Let everything that has breath
Breathe Breathe in gratitude Exhale praise
Afterword: My church commissioned a “thankful” piece for thanksgiving service and this was what I wrote and recited. It’s a miracle that we BREATHE!
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And I will add unto thy days fifteen years; and I will deliver thee and this city out of the hand of the king of Assyria; and I will defend this city for mine own sake, and for my servant David’s sake.
This verse pertains to Hezekiah. Hezekiah was a king over ancient Israel. He was king David’s great-great- great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandson.
By the time Hezekiah assumed the throne as king, 13 kings had already reigned for a period of 294 years. In other words, David was dead for almost 300 years. However, when Hezekiah was sick unto death and the Assyrian army was about to invade his kingdom, he prayed to God for good health and deliverance. God responded by adding 15 additional healthy years to Hezekiah and gave him victory over the invading forces. [This whole saga can be read in the Bible, in the 20th chapter of the book of 2nd Kings.]
What resonated with me when I read this was God’s emphasis that He acted not only for His sake, BUT for David’s sake as well.
You may recall, I wrote a bit about David in a previous post and how God testified of David that his heart was like God’s heart. Yes, David had a special relationship with God. But this story goes beyond that to show that God not only treasures relationships, but that He recalls them and will even extend the benefits of those relationships to descendants for years to come.
So when I read the text that started this post I was absolutely fascinated! You may not see immediately why, so let me paint a picture of how my imagination envisioned what transpired when I read this text.
Go with me on your mind’s eye:
The prophet had just delivered the news to Hezekiah that he was about to die and departed from the bedroom of the King.
Hezekiah immediately falls prostrate at his bedside beseeching God for healing and deliverance. His prayer is one of billions ascending to the throne of God, but when Hezekiah’s prayer reached God’s ears it immediately triggered the memory of God who recalled David.
God recalled a man whose heart resembled His; a man who worshipped Him with such reckless abandon and intensity that there was leftover worship, praise, love and adoration stored up in heaven.
And immediately God pulled down on David’s blessings stored up for almost 300 years and credited it to his offspring removed by 12 generations!
How do I know it was immediate? Because so instant was the response, it came between the time the prophet left Hezekiah and reached the courtyard. God instructed him to return to Hezekiah with the counter message of good health and deliverance.
This ability to call down credit from blessings stored up in heaven by an ancestor is not just Bible-relevant.
Have you ever felt like you’re blessed in ways you don’t deserve, partly ‘cause you didn’t pray for it or request it but it seemed to land on you in just the right way at just the right time?! It happens so seamlessly that unless you’re cognizant of being in a state of gratitude, you may just miss it and instead chalk it up to ‘just life’.
For me, Hezekiah’s experience mirrors my mom and me. You see, long before I knew how to pray I had a prayer-warrior interceding on my behalf, storing up blessings in heavenly places that when needed God could redeem by claiming: “for the sake of Agnes, my servant”.
I never take it for granted when my mom says: “I’m praying for you” or “I pray for you every day” because I know—as confirmed by the Bible—God can move on my behalf based on the stored up prayers my mom deposited on my behalf. And not only my mom because I come from a lineage of people who love God and I believe the blessings they have stored up have been sustained over generations. For in the same way there are generational curses and traumas, there are generational blessings.
Shabbat Shalom! Don’t forget to remember—God doesn’t forget. And He’ll bestow blessings on you that’s been stored up at the request of others on your behalf.
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Bell Rock butte beckons Grand Canyon adventure Hike Bright Angel Trail
…Bell Rock, as seen from helicopter
Up, up and away Fear aside, enjoy the ride Soaring in the sky
…first helicopter ride
Nestled in red rocks Chapel of the Holy Cross Shrine providing peace
…this chapel is Sedona’s most powerful vortex site…art in the chapel—God’s Mercy in His Son: James Muir, Sedona, corpus of the cross installed Nov 2016
Sedona vortex Concentrated energy Rise from earth to heal
… meditation, surrounded by cairns
Bye Arizona From rise of sun to setting Soul healer you are
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Today I started my day in a bathtub No water No bubbles Just me, elongated legs and arms, stretched out A fluffy pillow cushioning my back against hard porcelain Sun beam piercing through the blinds bathing me in warmth There’s a stillness in the air Except for the steady second-hand chime of the clock on the adjacent wall Each tick-tocking reminiscent of time’s certain passing Thoughts free flowing like rain Drip-dropping to my fingertips Transforming into words Transferring from mind to paper I write Words of gratitude and appreciation Of thanksgiving and forgiving Words to heal, to restore to empathize I write: “Today I started my day in a bathtub”
After-word: When was the last time you nestled in a bathtub, just because…? Allowing it to envelope you for no other reason than … ‘cause you wanna?! I wrote this piece at a time of uncertainty and unrest and found solace in the sturdiness of the bathtub, in the strength of its curled-down edges and the confinement of its length and width (just enough room to snuggle you in protective-like)
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The more I think on why I pray, the more I come to realize that my prayers are really but fragments of my heart.
Like when I’m compelled to stop in acknowledgement that the normalcy and routine of my life has been interrupted by the supernatural.
Like when my eyes open in the morning and I realize that I’m alive, the fragment of gratitude from my heart escapes upon my lips: “thank you Father for waking me up”.
WITH ALL THERE IS TO SAY TO GOD—
—the thanksgiving, the praising, the adoration, the questioning …
—the joy, the sorrow, the loss, the longing, the hurting …
—the wonderings and what-ifs, the near-misses and could-have-been …
My prayers are unending conversations taking place with:
—eyes-wide-open, eyes-tightly-closed …
—standing-up or kneeling-down …
—hands clasped or held high …
My prayers are often filled with emotions seen in:
—tears of joy or tears of sadness …
—unending smiles and abandoned laughter …
—sometimes loud and sometimes soft …
—sometimes no words at all just groans
Shabbat Shalom. May you find the peace, the joy, the release, the assurance that comes with praying.
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On my walk, I came across this lone tree, amidst green, transitioning into her season of change
‘Tis the season, autumn’s change ’bout to begin Even in the “death” of trees there’s beauty within Packed with lessons sublime, if we but only see Rebirth comes after dying, letting dead things be
Some times change is designed just for you You can’t imitate what others might do When it’s your season, let things go It’s in the letting go that you will know
What waits for you on the other side Remains unknown till you cross the divide Change is scary, so much to go through The journey is worth it, trees testify this to be true
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From the source of spiritual cosmology Conceived in rhythmic movements Birthed through pulsing pushing Punctuated by intermittent pain and joy
LIFE
Giving leaning into the ineffable Obscured in allusions Developed in plots Composed in stanzas
LIFE LIVED
In fragmented syntax of challenges and victories Linguistic coding lyrics of uninhibited joy with unimaginable sorrow Alliteration of life’s idioms of transformation Reciting poignant epigrams of wondrous elocution
LIFE LIVED IN
Meters to know and be known Evolving through spiritual healing Resolutely declaimed—live in the everlasting now Climaxes in all that was created
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Well … it’s a rainy rainy day in my part of the world then I got this from a friend that literally made me bust out laughing so loud it drowned the showers away.
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Covid-Conflict-Climate with personal traumas double
Leave no doubt our world is in big trouble
Divides are growing wider
Challenges are becoming greater
Inequalities are entrenching deeper
Bodies of women, girls weaponized, rights rolling back further
The drum-cry for climate action, conflict cessation beats ever louder
It ricochet off United Nations walls where world leaders gather
It’s in the tapestry of poetry, spoken word reciter
It’s in the brush and colorful strokes of muralist, painter
ARTivism. Conveyed on walls, painted on jaguar’s sculpture
The voices of world leaders and artists echo, efforts redouble
Our world is in big trouble
BUT
There is something we each can do
You plus me—8 billion strong—not few
We have the collective power to pursue
Policies and legislation whether old or new
Pen’s power mightier than sword rings true
To move from words to act, action-on-action accrue
The agency of voice, power of vote—change will breakthrough
To build back better systems, post-Covid debut
Better means just with equity, reaching equal outcome for all, not the few
The divides don’t need block restorative field of view
There’s enough to go around inequalities undo
Challenges we can overcome—political, socio-economic too
Our world is in big trouble, that’s true
But, there is something we each can do
…art activism in progressMuralists use variety of spaces: Eduardo Kobra climate action themed mural, “For the Planet”, currently mounted at the UNArtists use the strokes of brush: art exhibit at the UN to call for the elimination of female genital mutilation (female circumcision) … art/artist activism speak Jaguar Parade NYC 2022, organized by Artery, is an open-air art exhibition of forty jaguar sculptures designed by global artists now parading through NYC
Poets use their words: Amanda Gorman, “An Ode We Owe” recited at opening of UNGA77
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For your needs left unmet in a world of wealth immeasurable
For all the times you were abused, your rights taken or violated
For the times when you’ve been let-down, and treated as undeserving
For all the years that’s passed your dreams unfulfilled along the way
For all the times you tried and tried, repeat, repeat but failed
For all the unrecoverable time of days and years bygone
For all the times your voice was silenced, screamed but no one heard you
For all the times like a ‘thing’ set aside,obsolete, no longer needed
You—the left-behind, the marginalized, the abused and oft forgotten
For all those times, keep up your fight, there’re others in your corner
This poem was first published July 5, 2021 under the title “Fight”. Republished today to mark International Day of Peace. The 2022 Theme: End racism. Build peace.
After-word: Each year the International Day of Peace is observed around the world on 21 September. The UN General Assembly has declared this as a day devoted to strengthening the ideals of peace, through observing 24 hours of non-violence and cease-fire.
Flowers that mimic Duplicity in nature Created design
The Dancing 💃 GirlThe Moth OrchidThe Laughing Bumblebee OrchidThe Monkey 🙉 Face Orchid The Duck 🦆 OrchidThe Happy Alien 👽 Orchid TheHanging Lobster Claw FlowerThe Ballerina Orchid The Naked Man Orchid The Flame 🔥 Lily The Ice Cream 🍦 LilySwaddled Baby The Bat 🦇 FlowerDarth Vader FlowerSnap Dragon Seed Pod (I’d call it “TheSkull” 💀)The Angel Orchid The White Egret Orchid
God can’t be outdone At best human imitate Never duplicate
Thanks to Cee for hosting the Flower of the Day prompt and Ragtag Community for hosting RDP Sunday, the word is design.
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Shabbat Shalom everyone. Last week started a “Dear God” post—“how do I know”. I think the first step to knowing is being in a frame of mind to listen and to hear and that comes from a state of gratitude. Today is another “Dear God” post and it’s a simple prayer of gratitude.
First, a throwback to the welcome post of this blog where I shared why this site is called “createdbydeesign”. I genuinely believe that EVERY creative insight and EVERY word I’ve strung together to form EVERY art that I have ever written or formed, have been offsprings of God’s creativity.
God is the source of all creativity and all art. And it’s from His creation and creative wonders that I draw inspiration.
I mean, it can’t get more obvious than ART being smack dab in the middle of eARTh.
God could have made earth black and white and we’d have never known. That would be truly bland. Can you imagine earth without art, that would just be “eh”.
Who but a genius artist could think of, design, then create extraordinary flowers that look exactly like animals, aliens, humans, fairies and other strange creatures.
Naked Man OrchidSwaddled BabiesHappy AlienIce Cream TulipMonkey Face OrchidLaughing Bumblebee OrchidDuck OrchidFlame LilyMoth OrchidDancing GirlsBallerina OrchidNature is indeed created-by-design!
Dear God.
Thank You for channeling in us a bit of Your poetic-artistic creativity. Thank You for the art unfolded in majestic mountains, breathtaking meadows, massive oceans, boundless skies and splendiferous birds, flowers and faunas. I am grateful.
Amen
Shabbat Shalom. May you find peace, rest and bliss in the creative wonders of nature that lead you to a state of gratitude.
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She’s America’s largest cat Iconic symbol of Power Beauty Freedom Resilience Grace Yet she’s being eradicated from our world, her world Steadily and deliberately hunted Her habitats threatened by loss, fragmentation Overhunting of what’s her prey leaves her less to partake, she strays In territories of people, there’s conflict she looses limb and life, she dies
Today she roars her message of conservation and protection Across the globe she parades She sits at the seat where world leaders gather She bids them welcome to their 77th session The General Assembly of the United Nations Called to action with artistic glow Life imitating art She brings her cause front and center for the world’s attention Do you see her? Will you save her? The Jaguar Parade
Jaguar Parade NYC 2022, organized by Artery, is an open-air art exhibition of forty jaguar sculptures designed by global artists, now taking over the streets of New York at the same time that the 77th United Nations General Assembly convenes to spread a pressing message—it’s time to act for jaguars. Also contributing to Ragtag Daily Prompt— the word is glow.
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Not every opportunity is a blessing. Not every open door is for us to walk through. Not every closed door is a missed opportunity.
When we come to know, understand and accept that our lives are not a game of luck and chances but rather the accumulation of decisions and choices, then we want to be careful, thoughtful and prayerful about the decisions and choices we make.
Amen!
Shabbat Shalom! May you be observant and discerning of the circumstances of your life, and be open to hear God’s leading and be willing to follow.
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Day after day she writes on white board Words in red, black, green markers poured Spanish words tumble off her lips As smooth and eloquent as the language is, she dips Pulling out phonetics, conjugation, pronunciation Patiently she teaches on language construction Day after day repeat what was taught before Adding on, building, expanding, teaching more She teaches Mind changes Language acquisition is no easy feat Determination is key, no room for incomplete Each day new vocabulary being stored Learning new language leaves no time to be bored
And in tribute to my teacher and month-long Spanish immersion, now in español:
Día tras día escribe en una pizarra blanca Vertieron palabras de marcadores rojos, negros y verdes Las palabras en español salen de sus labios Tan suave y elocuente como es el lenguaje, se sumerge Sacando fonética, conjugación, pronunciación Pacientemente enseña sobre la construcción del lenguaje Día tras día repetir lo enseñado antes Agregando, construyendo, expandiendo, enseñando más Ella enseña Cambios de mente La adquisición del lenguaje no es tarea fácil La determinación es clave, no hay lugar para lo incompleto Cada día se almacena nuevo vocabulario Aprender nuevo idioma no deja tiempo para aburrirse
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One of the benefits of writing is that words live on in perpetuity and can be revisited.
This week was very trying for me with some heavy emotional moments on issues that will deeply impact my future. By the end of the week I was emotionally spent. The week also concluded a month of intense immersive learning in a “new land” as I’m trying to improve my competency in Spanish. As I sat in tears (literally) before my teacher feeling utterly bewildered that I hadn’t learned enough, she hugged and calmly reminded me that I need not worry but to find peace, God’s peace.
As I do when my emotions/mind run higher than my body can cope—I slept. Twelve hours later I’m rejuvenated (because I was also extremely tired) and I reflected on the day. I heard my teacher’s voice—I need God’s peace. So I returned to my own words: Jehovah Shalom that I’m re-sharing here. Maybe you too need to be reminded that God’s peace is FULL & COMPLETE peace!
Shabbat Shalom!
The name of the LORD is a fortified tower; the righteous run to it and are safe (Proverbs 18:10). While we are climbing our way out of this current …
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… enslaved Africans kept at this holding dungeon were taken through this door, loaded to ships and taken across the Atlantic never to see home again
Lest we forget:
Retraced ancestral path
Standing in the “door of no return”
The beauty of the vista before me obliterated
I see instead anguish of fore-parents
Shackled, stolen into slavery
“Ark of Return”—a sculpture commissioned by the United Nations to commemorate the end of slave trade (UN NY Headquarters) to coincide with the International Day of remembrance for the victims of slavery
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Before-word: Very special and fun thanks to the bloggers/readers who joined in on last week’s post [see it 👉here👈] to co-create a poem with me which I’m posting this week.
So, here’s to OUR poem: “That Drink”! Look out for your words/lines as you read /listen along.
Said the pineapple to the lime Sun’s blazing across the skyline ‘Tis the mixologist’s shining moment That drink to relieve beach goers’ torment
Ice, pineapple blended together Now that’s a real thirst quencher Uggh, pineapples belong on pizza! Nah-ah! Bring on the mix, hype up the pleasure
Said the beach goer to the drink mixer Pour me another for me and my partner Life doesn’t get much better than daiquiri by the sea Ahhhh, that’s just what the doc prescribed for me
Tangy, tasty, a cocktail refreshing Mhmm — YESSS — first-sip reliving Brilliantly garnished like a summer’s day sun Gulp gulp — NOOO — it’s all done!?
Ahoy! Ahoy! Thanks a lot fella! De-lish delightful drink—deliciosa! This is the life relaxing on the beach A taste of paradise all within reach
Heart sipping heaven’s sweet serving That refreshing drink beach bodies craving Resting now embracing love Cooling soul like a gift from above
At last What a blast Just what I needed Thirst superseded
That drink!
THANK YOU to the following bloggers/readers (in order of responses). Did you see your words/lines?!
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It’s coming up to 78 degrees Celsius. It’s HOT! It’s HUMID!!
This drink is offered to you from under the shelter of a beach umbrella, a cool wind picks up off the ocean waves, you take the first sip and you say: ________________ [fill in the blank]
Drop your “fill in the blank” comments below 👇 and help me build a poem. I’m excited to see what magic we co-create. Let’s go …
UPDATE: The co-created poem can be seen and heard, just click here 👉 “That Drink”
Heart-eyes covered in love not seeing Lies sweetly wrapped in roses masking Revelation in actions there’s no denying Supple flesh like petals up-curling Heart breaks like cardiac arresting Chambers swirl blood fast pumping Soul from soul separate disconnecting Emotions escape like petals free-falling
God initiated it! Shabbat Shalom: It’s Worship Time!
God initiated the Sabbath and He also initiated worship!
Sabbath is for rest and it’s also for worship. And worship takes place wherever, whenever and how-ever like while:
Watching the sun go down, but not before it colors the clouds an autumn orange and the river a golden glimmering tint.
Standing on the bank of the river transfixed, in awe of all creation bustling around me.
Hearing geese honking, hissing and cackling as they waddle up and down the shore, till they fly off to their resting place for the night. Or,
Seeing a father and son skipping stones on the river; and a small child running around his mom as the cutest little Pomeranian chases him, tugging excitedly against the restraint of his leash.
In these moments while I’m standing by the river experiencing life around me by observing laughter, familial chatter and play, and expressions of love it all directs my heart to God. In essence, God revealed Himself—and I worshipped.
The word “worship” itself is not in the Bible but there’s evidence of worship from Genesis through to Revelation. How do we know this? By knowing how worship is defined and seeking reference to that definition in the Bible.
Worship comes from two Old English words: weorth, which means “worth,” and scipe or ship, which means something like shape or quality such as the -ship in friendship that denotes the quality of being a friend. Worth-ship then is the quality of having worth or of being worthy.
On the banks of the river as I ascribed and attributed all that I observed to God and in saying/in knowing that God is worthy—in that moment, I worshipped. Or as the Bible puts it—I praised God.
Worship that expresses the heart
I didn’t speak. I didn’t lift my hands. I didn’t bow, prostrate myself or even close my eyes for there is a worship that expresses the heart.
There is also a worship that involves the mind. And a worship that involves the body. There is a worship that is giving praise upward. And a worship that is receiving instructions from above. And there a worship that carries out instructions in the world around us. And above all, God initiates it!
So, God initiates worship and He does this by first revealing Himself.
Let’s think about it. God is beyond our scope of understanding. So how can we know His worth much less declare it, unless He reveals Himself to us?!
It’s when I see God revealed in His awe-inspiring-make-everything-from-nothing GREATNESS, His all-might-almighty-to-save POWER, His don’t-want-anything-in-return-kind-o’ LOVE, His flawless-perfect CHARACTER—then, and only then, do I begin to understand His worthiness.
This stands to reason then that the better I know what God declares about Himself is the better that I can declare His worth and the better I can truly worship.
Worship is therefore my response to God’s initiation in revealing Himself and I declare Him worthy—I worship—with and from my entire being—my heart, my mind, my soul, my strength—and with and in sincerity.
This is how Jesus explains it. He says:
… true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and truth, for they are the kind of worshipers the Father seeks. God is spirit, and His worshipers must worship in spirit and in truth.
John 4:23-24
In essence, what was Jesus was saying? The most essential attribute of worship is sincerity. The externals do not matter if the heart isn’t right. If our attitude is wrong then we can sing the right songs, quote the right scriptures, even hold our hands in just the right way but it would mean nothing to God. For if our heart isn’t in it, it isn’t really worship.
And so God reveals Himself first—for He always takes the first step—He’s the initiator-God. Then He goes seeking to find worshippers—those who respond to His revelation of Himself by declaring His worthiness.
There is so much to say about worship than just one post won’t do. So join me next week as we dive more into the wherever, whenever and how-ever of worship.
Shabbat Shalom. May you find the joy in knowing the God who ceaselessly reveals Himself to you, and may your response to His initiation of revelation be one of worship.
She’s lights flashing She’s noise reverberating She’s drama unfolding She’s concrete buildings She’s yellow cabs hailing She’s never sleeping She’s New York, New York
She’s 5th Avenue Models and agents Fashionistas and designers She’s Broadway Musicians and poets Actors and directors She’s Park Avenue Cathedrals and parks High rises and skyscrapers She’s New York, New York
She’s renaissance Harlem She’s boogie-down Bronx She’s classy Manhattan She’s pizza She’s hotdogs She’s street meat She’s inspiration She’s convenience She’s excitement She’s New York, New York
She’s contrasting She’s empowering She’s dream-making She’s mesmerizing She’s fascinating She’s captivating She’s New York, New York
Did you know that there are only three recorded times in the Bible that God used His fingers to write?
Yes! Once when He wrote the Ten Commandments as standard of righteousness on two tablets of stone (Exodus 31:18). The second time was when He pronounced a message of judgment on King Belshazzar by writing on a wall (Daniel 5:5).
In both of these instances He wrote on concreted matter—stone and wall—signifying permanence.
The third time God wrote with His fingers is fascinating and quite intriguing to me and so it’s the focus of today’s Shabbat Shalom post.
Picture this—they were in the throes of lovemaking when community leaders broke into the privacy of the room. Astonished, they hastily separated their bodies from each other.
She was barely able to cover up her before they dragged her from the bed. As they pulled her from the room she grabbed her outerwear and clumsily covered her body. The last she saw of her lover, he was already dressed and melding into the crowd of angry men.
Hair unkempt. Clothing dangling untidily. Afraid to look up, she kept her head downcast, her eyes fixed on the sandaled-feet before her. Ears deafened by the angry mob.
This is one of the stories recorded in the Bible and referred to as the woman caught in the act of adultery (John 7:53-8:11). This story appears in only one of the four Gospels—the book of Saint John. Though there has been much debate about its authorship and its authenticity as part of the life story of Christ, I find it to be one of the best examples showing how grace and mercy coalesced with judgement and justice.
My intrigued with this story is first because it showed that Jesus was intolerant of ‘isms’ like male chauvinism and sexism. Being “caught in the act” implies that both the woman and the man were present. However, it was the woman alone who was brought before Jesus for condemnation even though the Law of Moses stipulated that both the man and the woman should be put to death (Leviticus 20:10).
The intent of these men therefore was not for true justice but rather to entrap Jesus—would He apply the law of Moses and called for her stoning and in so doing break the Roman law?
But, Jesus is such a smooth operator though. He doesn’t say one word out loud. Instead, He looks them knowingly in the eye, He stoops down to the ground and He began to speak with fingerprints in the sand.
Let’s hear the story through the woman’s voice as I captured it poetically:
The second thing that intrigued me about this story is the fact that Jesus wrote in the sand.
So, what is intriguing you may ask?
That, inscriptions in sand are not meant to be permanent.
This story outlines the beauty of salvation that not only will God show up in the messiness of our sins, but He’ll acknowledge them in sand—tiny particles that are easily scattered and dissipated. And just like when sand is scattered, so are our confessed sins removed and dispersed as far as the east is from the west (Psalm 103:12).
This story also reinforces that Jesus does not encourage sin, but that He’s equally and unequivocally clear in the depth of His love for sinners. This is why He first seeks to heal our hearts and the proclivities that drive us to sin, then He calls us to turn away from a life of sinning while He silences those who stand in judgement and condemnation.
Shabbat Shalom.
What accusers have you encountered? Who’ve marred your name or brought you shame? Who’ve dragged you before a disciplinary board? Expecting condemnation to settle the score? Can you see Jesus stooping, getting down to your level? Hear Him say: My child, go now, your sins are forgiven Then with rejoicing you too will say: No accusers Lord to see None left here but You and me
Today’s Shabbat Shalom post focuses on prayer and the rationale for prayer from my own experiences in praying.
The one thing most of us are taught as children is to pray. Who remembers:
Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep. If I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take.
And before too long we recited that prayer each night before bed. Or other similar ritual prayers at the appropriate time, like before we eat.
For health and strength and daily food we praise thy name, Oh Lord.
Is prayer then a ritual, an obligation or an activity?
The more I think on prayer and why I pray, the more I’ve come to realize that my prayers are really but fragments of my heart.
Like when I awake from sleeping, open my eyes and I realize I’m alive—the fragment of gratitude from my heart escapes upon my lips: “thank you Father for waking me up”.
With all there is to say to God—
the thanksgiving, the praising, the adoration, the questioning …
the joy, the sorrow, the loss, the longing, the hurting …
the wonderings and what-ifs, the near-misses and could-have-been …
—my prayers are unending conversations taking place with
eyes-wide-open, eyes-tightly-closed …
standing-up, kneeling-down …
hands clasped or held high …
—my prayers are filled with emotions seen in
tears of joy or tears of sadness …
unending smiles and abandoned laughter …
sometimes loud and sometimes soft …
sometimes no words at all just groans and tears …
—my prayers transpire while I’m
folding laundry …
washing dishes …
walking …
jogging …
So, prayer then is not an activity or an obligation nor is it a ritual—it’s a way of being.
In prayer I find:
Surrender. To let go off of whatever is burdening me and this is spiritually, emotionally, mentally and physically healing and restorative.
Gratitude. To be in a state of thankfulness.
Reflection. To see myself as if looking in a mirror. For when I go before God, there’s no need to hide any part of me for He sees me in my all-ness. In prayer I safely bare my soul.
Relationship is the greatest benefit of praying. In being in constant communication with God, He becomes as real to me as my best-forever-friend.
So prayers are fragments of what my heart feels in that moment and I share it with my God.
There are things I’ve prayed for and the answers I want are not the ones I got and I’ve been hurt and disappointed. But after grappling with the “why” and the hurt and disappointment, I remember that I serve a God who loves and cares for me explicitly and that the objective of my prayer isn’t to change God. For as C.S. Lewis reminds us, prayer doesn’t change God. It changes me.
Shabbat Shalom. May the revelations of your heart be expressed in fragments of prayer.
It is no secret that I love poems. What is a poem? Is it words in painting, lyrics in songs, a medium for self-expression? Poem is far more than these. Poem is a “thing made”.
“Poem” comes from the Greek poíēma which means a “thing made”.
This begs the question: if poem is a thing made, what kind of thing is it?
The Bible has an answer!
God is the first poet! In the Bible, poíēma is used ONLY TWICE and both times in reference to the creative power of God.
First, when God created earth, referred to as “things that are made” in Romans 1:20. That phrase—“things that are made”—is translated from poíēma.
And second, in Ephesians 2:10 which speaks to the recreating of our hearts, referenced as “masterpiece”—and that word is also translated from poíēma.
So in essence, the thing made—poem—is God’s work of art both as Creator and Redeemer.I’d say poem is both the beginning of life—creation, and the re-creating of life—the redemption of humanity.
Going back to the initial question, if poem is a thing made, what kind of thing is it? The answer is in this poem:
From the source of spiritual cosmology Conceived in rhythmic movements Birthed through pulsing, pushing Punctuated by intermittent pain and joy Life Giving meaning to the ineffable Obscured in allusions Developed in plots Composed in stanzas Live In fragmented syntax of challenges and victories Linguistic coding lyrics of uninhibited joy with unimaginable sorrow Alliteration of life’s idioms of transformation Reciting poignant epigrams of wondrous elocution Live life In metres to know and be known Evolving through spiritual healing Resolutely declaimed: live in the everlasting now Climaxing in all that was created
Shabbat Shalom! God is the unparalleled Poet. And of all that He’s created, we are His workmanship, His masterpiece—we are His best poem.
WeLcOmE To KAMZEE'S!
Our Major focus is Health and Environmental issues however we discuss anything and Everything that is educative and beneficial to the society at Large...
This blog, titled "Empowering Leadership: Building a Harmonious Partnership Between School Management and Principals," explores the essential factors that foster a strong and effective relationship between school management and principals. Drawing on historical context, philosophical principles, Indian legal frameworks, and mythological analogies, the blog offers insights into creating a balanced dynamic where principals are empowered yet accountable. It provides practical strategies for ensuring the administrative, academic, and financial health of educational institutions through clear communication, shared vision, and mutual respect.
Poems & More 