God Will Make a Way

Isaiah 43:18, 19

Remember not the former things,
    nor consider the things of old.
19 Behold, I am doing a new thing;
    now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?
I will make a way in the wilderness
    and rivers in the desert.

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Isaiah 41:13

“For I, the Lord your God, hold your right hand; it is I who say to you, “Fear not, I am the one who helps you.”

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Psalm 91

1 Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High
    will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.[a]
2 I will say of the Lord, “He is my refuge and my fortress,
    my God, in whom I trust.”

3 Surely he will save you
    from the fowler’s snare
    and from the deadly pestilence.

4 He will cover you with his feathers,
    and under his wings you will find refuge;
    his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.

5 You will not fear the terror of night,
    nor the arrow that flies by day,
6 nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness,
    nor the plague that destroys at midday.

7 A thousand may fall at your side,
    ten thousand at your right hand,
    but it will not come near you.
8 You will only observe with your eyes
    and see the punishment of the wicked.

9 If you say, “The Lord is my refuge,”
    and you make the Most High your dwelling,
10 no harm will overtake you,
    no disaster will come near your tent.
11 For he will command his angels concerning you
    to guard you in all your ways;
12 they will lift you up in their hands,
    so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.
13 You will tread on the lion and the cobra;
    you will trample the great lion and the serpent.  

Because he  loves me,” says the Lord, “I will rescue him;

    I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name.
15 He will call on me, and I will answer him;
    I will be with him in trouble,
    I will deliver him and honor him.
16 With long life I will satisfy him
    and show him my salvation.”

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Graves Into Gardens
Elevation Worship

I searched the world
But it couldn't fill me
Man's empty praise
And treasures that fade
Are never enough

Then You came along
And put me back together
And every desire
Is now satisfied
Here in Your love (Hey)

Oh, there's nothing better than You
There's nothing better than You
Lord, there's nothing
Nothing is better than You (Oh)
(Yes, I know it's true)
(Come on, stand up, hey)

I'm not afraid
To show You my weakness
My failures and flaws
Lord, You've seen them all
And You still call me friend

'Cause the God of the mountain
Is the God of the valley
There's not a place
Your mercy and grace
Won't find me again (Come on, now)

Oh, there's nothing better than You
There's nothing better than You
Lord, there's nothing
Nothing is better than You
(I know it's true)

Oh, there's nothing better than You (Somebody testify)
There's nothing better than You
Lord, there's nothing
Nothing is better than You

You turn mourning to dancing
You give beauty for ashes
You turn shame into glory
You're the only one who can (Come on)
You turn mourning to dancing
You give beauty for ashes
You turn shame into glory (Tell 'em now)
You're the only one who can (Let's turn the graves)

You turn graves into gardens
You turn bones into armies
You turn seas into highways
You're the only one who can (He's the only Lord)
You're the only one who can

Oh, there's nothing (Come on, choir), better than You
Oh, there's nothing better than You
Lord, there's nothing
Nothing is better than You (Search and not found)

Oh, there's nothing better than You
There's nothing better than You
Lord, there's nothing
Nothing is better than You

Oh, come on, if He turned your grave into a garden, say

You turn graves into gardens
You turn bones into armies
You turn seas into highways
You're the only one who can (Turn to graves)
You turn graves into gardens (Turn bones into an army)
You turn bones into armies (He's makin' waves through the seas)
You turn seas into highways
You're the only one who can
You're the only one who can
You're the only one who can

Somebody give Him praise in this house

I don't think we're finished yet, come on
I think He's turning some things over tonight

You turn my mourning into dancing, come on

You turn mourning to dancing (Yeah)
You give beauty for ashes (Shame into glory)
You turn shame into glory
You're the only one who can (Oh, He's turnin' my grave)
You turn graves into gardens
You turn bones into armies (He's makin' waves through the seas)
You turn seas into highways (You're the only)
You're the only one who can (Come on, one more time)
(You turn my grave into a garden)

You turn graves into gardens (You're resurrectin' bones)
You turn bones into armies (You're makin' waves through my sea)
You turn seas into highways (Shout it out, You're the only)
You're the only one who can (You're the only)
You're the only one who can (You're the only)
You're the only one who can

Jesus, You're the only one
Come on, give Him one more shout of praise

Source: Musixmatch

Songwriters: Christopher Joel Brown / Steven Furtick / Brandon Lake / Tiffany Hammer

Graves Into Gardens lyrics © Be Essential Songs

Freedom Isn’t Free - God Bless America

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The Star Spangled Banner

Oh, say can you see by the dawn's early light
What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming?
Whose broad stripes and bright stars thru the perilous fight
O'er the ramparts we watched were so gallantly streaming?
And the rocket's red glare, the bombs bursting in air
Gave proof thru the night that our flag was still there

Oh, say does that star-spangled banner yet wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave?

On the shore, dimly seen through the mists of the deep
Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes
What is that which the breeze, o'er the towering steep
As it fitfully blows, half conceals, half discloses?
Now it catches the gleam of the morning's first beam
In full glory reflected now shines in the stream

'Tis the star-spangled banner! Oh long may it wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave

And where is that band who so vauntingly swore
That the havoc of war and the battle's confusion
A home and a country should leave us no more!

Houses I Love in New Orleans & Two Poems

THE SECOND COMING
By William Butler Yeats

Turning and turning in the widening gyre   

The falcon cannot hear the falconer;

Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;

Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,

The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere   

The ceremony of innocence is drowned;

The best lack all conviction, while the worst   

Are full of passionate intensity.

Surely some revelation is at hand;

Surely the Second Coming is at hand.   

The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out   

When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi

Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert   

A shape with lion body and the head of a man,   

A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,   

Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it   

Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.   

The darkness drops again; but now I know   

That twenty centuries of stony sleep

Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,   

And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,   

Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

…………………………

Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night

By  Dylan Thomas

Do not go gentle into that good night,

Old age should burn and rave at close of day; 

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right, 

Because their words had forked no lightning they 

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright 

Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay, 

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight, 

And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way, 

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight 

Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay, 

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height, 

Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray. 

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Hurricane Season...

HURRICANE CHILD, A MAM POEM

By Marion

I were born a hurricane child

strong 'n furious, dark 'n wild.

Come here ass first, bloody & gleamin'

not cryin' but laughin'; Mam were screamin'.

Windows imploded, spewin' glass,

wind was howlin', (it wouldn't last).

Rain was peltin' like fallin' knives

cuttin' out ditches & stealin' lives.

My face were masked with a glistenin' caul,

Mam's was faded a peculiar pall

She be a special one, the midwife said---

Shut yore hole, cried Mam from the bed,

Ain't no gift, it's a burdensome curse

a'knowin' most things & havin' no thirst

fer mystery. Havin' the sight can be a fright

and thieve the best years from yore life!

And a'top all this the moon she's full

so my babe here daily will feel her pull.

She'll be called crazy, lunatic, insane

oftener than folks say her given name.

Hurricane Audrey, she blowed outside

a whippin' & a shriekin'---were we safe inside?

The floor were sparklin' with glass & rain

& I were birthed feet-first in the Hurricane's pain...

July, 2015

The Good Life by Tracy K. Smith

The Good Life

When some people talk about money
They speak as if it were a mysterious lover
Who went out to buy milk and never
Came back, and it makes me nostalgic
For the years I lived on coffee and bread,
Hungry all the time, walking to work on payday
Like a woman journeying for water
From a village without a well, then living
One or two nights like everyone else
On roast chicken and red wine.

—Tracy K. Smith

Words and Prayers Heal the Ugliness in the World

Lagniappe

I color.

I read poetry every damn day.

I hit my stride at 50... I burned bright...then ashes...

Scooby now runs the house.

My alter ego from “Inklings” coloring book.

Ah, to be 16...

Sixteen
By Carolyn Cahalan

Sixteen
Sees and laughs,
Sleeps and eats,
Aches and cries,
Babbles, thinks,
Loves and hates,
Stretches, lives
And hopefully waits.

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My amazing granddaughter, Mary Mace.  She’s joyful perfection, as we all were at 16.  I first read the poem above in my English book when I was thirteen years old.  Mary loves reading, poetry, photography, sewing, painting, drawing, crafts and school, among other things.  She runs track and plays volleyball. She and a friend took these pictures this week.  I love her fiercely.

Red Canna by Georgia O’Keeffe

Red Canna, 1924 by Georgia O’Keeffe

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Menstruation by Marion Lawless

Jesus's mother

Buddha's mother

Mohammad's mother

Confusius's mother

Lao-Tzu's mother

Ghandi's mother

Kuan Yin‘s mother

Freud's mother

Whitman's mother

Your mother

My mother---

Without menstruation,

None of us would be here.  ~Marion, 1/11/11

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“Where you come from is gone.

Where you thought you were going to was never there.

And where you are is no good unless you can get away from it.

Where is there a place for you to be?

No place.

Nothing outside you can give you any place.

In yourself right now is all the place you’ve got.”

               ~Flannery O’Connor, “Wise Blood”

~ A warrior woman I colored.  ~