Rest For The Weary – A Community Thanksgiving Poem Project

Welcome to our Thanksgiving play place! We are taking on a challenge as a community to write poetry together. Each day I will provide a picture and a line of poetry. Your job is to leave a line of your own in the comment section. I will provide a new prompt and picture and a poem created by all of us the following day! Will you take time for a little wordplay?

'autumn leaf' photo (c) 2004, tracy ducasse - license:

Leather worn leaf settles to rest for winter’s sleep…and so do I.

I am so proud of our first work together!! Your word pictures were beautiful…thank you for sharing your heart!

Margus Saluste

Frost Dawn

by the Journey Towards Epiphany Community

Moon sliver slices sky silver
and star dust settles
on shoulders and hair
reminding me that I am dust.
And slithering down, down,
deep into Spirit breath
that holds it all together
Inhaling scent of pumpkin spice,
autumn leaves,
the candles crackle
casting characters on the wall…
loving all things autumn.

The dappled drops of light
play silently on my face,
casting me as the lonely spirit
that I am,
a character also on the wall.
Cup of warmth in hand I step outside
where icy, white horse in pasture
glistens in moonlight glow.
She snorts and prances
bold and fearless
dancing praise to her Creator.

Sun shoots neon pink
painting treetop tips
the new day has begun
and I am here to witness.
But trunks and ground
stay colorless
unstained by morning rays.
These shades of brown and gray
seat so deeply into heart
– the branches empty and wanting –
o be still my heart and listen
for His whisper of
hope and new life.

Colored leaves
dancing through the crisp air
sweep me off my feet
into the glory of God,
spirit soaring,
and then love taking the final bow.
The buoyancy of the breeze
beckons boldly
while my breath
ingests it’s intoxicating essence…
Then I fly into my imagination
and I’m happily in heaven.

Though light pierces through
eastern sky,
sobbing clouds mist tears overhead.
The cold that aches my fingers
reminds me
I don’t have to sleep on a street;
The drizzle stinging my face,
reminds me
my home is safe and dry;
The dreary grey sky,
now blazing with fire color
reminds me
that my family is safe and happy;
And all of this?
reminds me
Of His love for all less fortunate than I.
We are poor,
and we are rich
– it is the search
that determines which.
Day drives on
His presence near
And because of traffic snarls,
I get gift of sunrise,
and sunset;
all in one day.
Search over
I am rich.

From Dandilions to Queen Anne’s Lace – A Mother’s Letter To Her Daughter

Just yesterday you were my dandi-lioness
Bright and sunshiny yellow…albeit slightly annoying –
cropping up when I least expected it
ruining my flawless world of endless green grass.

And then came the days
when you didn’t feel good about yourself
and you weren’t full of sunshine anymore but
dull and grey.

But I know a secret.
Because you scattered seeds of sunshine,
even in your “ugly” stage,
and now the seeds you spawned sprinkle my lawn
with happy faces, all changed by you.

You’ve grown into a woman now
and you are more like Queen Anne’s Lace;
British, exquisite and delicately beautiful.
True, you don’t have your own light anymore,
but instead your very lacyness provides the pattern
for His light to shine through and around you.

And it’s all about Him
and it’s less about you
and you still scatter seeds
only in a different field
in a different place
in a different way.

You may no longer be growing in my green groves
but in the cracks of cement sidewalks
where signs of life are far and few between.
But you are strong and fearless
even though you are called, “Weed!”

Not moved by “their” words
you reach toward heaven
etching the night sky with lacy patterns,
your beauty only recognizable
when Light filters through.

Let Light be.
Be in Light.