Holy Spirit fill my womb. Your rapture now enfolds me. In the quiet of my room. My soul does magnify the Lord. I rejoice in God, my Savior. You regard my low estate. This handmaid found Your favor. All nations call me blessed. For He who is almighty. Has wrought great things in me. Even His great name is Holy. And just like me, believers. Through ages yet to come. Can bear within the Savior. And a blessed one become! .

Various writings, thoughts, and a little shameless self-promotion. I apologize to my readers and thank you for your patience.

Trapped in curves without closure. Until brightness fills the sky. Drowsed by golden leaves,. Amelia rests at her balcony. Her thoughts blink purple and red,. Amelia wonders about the passion contained in clouds.

Poetry and fiction by a physicist from the dark side. The pub was empty and he approached the two men in the corner. He can only speak in poetry.

Living the Path of Life. 100 Word Wednesday- Week 1- Dark Track. 100 Word Wednesday- Week 1- Dark Track. In the 100 Word Weekly Writing Challenge using an image as a prompt. Kay had been walking her dog, suddenly he startled her by barking losing control of the lead Barney was off into the trees. Feeling a little braver with Barney beside her she ran down the track, going around the corner she saw a teenager not moving.

January 2, 2017 by Sabio Lantz. You surpass many a hurdle. And your name instills us with fear. Hitching a ride on small deer feet. 8212; by Sabio Lantz, January 2016. December 31, 2016 by Sabio Lantz. Mom loves geology and still shares stories,. But her rock collection is missing.

Where the Song is Moody. I am a being for a minute time out of a vast eternity. Flesh and blood, bone and gristle, brain and soul. Formed of passion, navigating toward maturity,. Enlightenment, some validation for this breath.

A longing never to travel again, except on foot. A longing never to travel again, except on foot. Ah, cruelest, my dearest, your kindness broke my heart. The sea got over it soon. Is it still raining, asks my hand or only easy poems for you. Weird tales, unknit in april. No one cares to remember that summer, that night. The dead are my friends. For Farida, for how she seeks to touch.

We are just the caretakers. The water, soil, and air. We must protect our future. And get inspired by the other poets. Still sleeps in the nest.

Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email. There sovereign in our ways we stood noble and true. Contesting those demonic forces with the dawn. And one by one the fiends proved to be fools. Still, facing my surprise I was struck down by a spear;. How majestic approaching this earth I might have seemed.