Within The Light...

One Sunday morning
i found myself
walking a path
i hadn't walked before..
All alone
(there was no one around)
so, i used this time
for talking to God,
Just Him and me..
like it's supposed to be...
i found myself
asking him why
oh why, did I
have to live
the life i lived..
always depressed..
what purpose could
he have for me?
My life is nothing more
than a daily struggle.
I asked him why
When He gave others success
was i chosen to fail?
How do I receive
this blessing of a good life..?
I aked Him
Why did i find
all the wrong roads???
As i looked up
I saw a light
shinning down upon
the trees above me..
And a silent voice
within my soul
seemed to be saying
Keep your faith
I do know you..
I am here
witin the light
listening....
I am here.
suddeny it all became
so clear to me
I could see
the light on this tree.
I meen i really saw
this light on the tree..
Something changed in me
It broke something free
that held me back
kept me praying
over and over
again and again
for the same thing
to happen..
to find the right roads in life
the prosperous roads
the happy roads
the kind and loving
always success roads..
Yet, this road i'd found
today, this Sunday
had become
a road to God..
a road to light..
for each time i prayed
each time i called
upon God to lead me..
i asked that i find
the right roads in life..
I suddenly felt
remorse,
i felt selfless and dirty..
so many things
i could spend time
talking with God about..
and i talk these things..
When i walked this road
i did not intend
to venture far..
benieth the light
shinning on this tree
i found myself saying..
I found the road Lord..
I see the Road..
I'm on that road today..
I see th light...

Silent Poetry....

Deep in the woods
on a tiny hill
overlooking a stream
I long ago found
what seemed to be
a foundation..
a definate sign
that something
once was there.
the open well
not far away
said many things...
I often go there
to sit upon the rocks
in the late summer sun..
Alone with the wind
listening to Her poetry....
(the wind is A poet you know.)
She whispers on dew drops
sunsets and snowflakes..
rain intoxicates her,
she dances with lightening
as thunder roars around them..
The wind writes poetry
that has no words...
it needs no words..
to hear it
one needs only
to listen...





poem and picture by Conntta jen..

Within The Silence...

Looking out the window
of the old church
i felt a message was there
as if waiting
for me to hear it..
yet i could not find
this silent voice..
it seemed to be
laughing at me..
as if Mother Nature
Herself
was playing a game..
When i saw the feathers
resting upon
the weatherd wood
the silence was broken
and i could hear
the comming of Autumn..
the sounds of time
when summer is passing.....

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Katiedid...

The old cabin sits
nearly hidden
high on a Ridge
overlooking a lake..
there are no roads
only paths
made by deer
and a woman
called Katiedid.
they say
she left home
30 years ago
wouldn't go back..
lived off the streets.
her grandma Lydia
died in this cabin.
in Late Autumn
Katiedid can be seen
walking from town
carring a blanket
a frying pan
a fishng pole
and suitecase..
throughout the summer
i'm told she prefers
to sleep beneith
the 6th street bridge.
Once winter sets in
smoke will be seen
from across the lake.
if you get close enough
you can smell
fresh fish frying
and sassifrass tea...
strangers leave
fine cloths
fresh fruit
milk and bread
on sunday mornings...
with notes
inviting her
to church..
as she hides
in the attic...