Yes, I am still here.  Not yet blown away by the

PASSING STORM

The tarnished silver clouds fly by…
A raindrop kisses my eye,
And rolls down my cheek,
Following a path set by the leak
Of salted water
Force dripped as a tear;
Unwillingly, but there;
Responding to a memory floating on the air;
Foggy;
Soggy;
Soaked by the puddles where it lie,
Too heavy to move, too stubborn to die.

Raindrop kisses, cloud cover shade,
Erode a heart as a life fades.
The glow behind
On the path taken, reminds
Not of a love lost, forsaken,
But of a duty that was taken,
With honor, longing
For the holding, the belonging…
Slipping;
Sliding;
Life moves on the wet traction,
Of a heart lost by a soul’s retraction…

Then, the Light polishes tarnish away,
The clouds are silver lined, white, not grey.
A last raindrop slides on a damp
Trail of joy, shining in the Lamp
Of hope, with a glow dancing on fresh winds,
Letting me feel free of the pains of my sins,
Feeling the love and joy in me
For the One who set my heart free;
Amazing;
Praising…;
For the Weatherman of heart saving grace
Removing my storms; showing His beautiful face.

Copyright by Thomas Watson, 2005

PRAYER

When you pray, and hold your hands lifted high,

Are your eyes, also, reaching to the sky?

Looking in awe at what is seen,

Whether cloudy, or blue and clean?

Clouds billowy white, thunder grey,

Stars and lightening; or His moon following His day.

                                                                  Holy, Holy, God of Creation!

                                                                All glory to You in Heaven and on Earth.

                                                               We offer praise in voice and meditation,

                                                              To our God, Spirit, Lord of immaculate birth.

His Glory and wondrous grace

Is certainly evidenced by that infinite space…

Yet, could we not also

Bring our gaze of joy low

While in worshipful prayer

To view all that creation has to share?

                                                       Glory, Glory to our God most Holy!

                                                        All praise your grace and love!

                                                        By your Word, we give ourselves wholly,

                                                        Bowing before your power above

When you pray, and hold your hands out and down,

Give glory to God for what is found;

His gracious love in rippling fields

In flowers and greens that His Spring yields

In myriads of creatures, short and tall,

Given with His creation before our fall.

                                                     Grace, grace be your Name!

                                                     All kings kneel before your throne!

                                                     Mountains will fall, stars do the same,

                                                     Your creation bows to You alone

The grace of His love displayed for His child,

Created for a world wonderfully styled..

And still, we can lift higher our view;

Straight ahead to know what our God can do..

To sense His grand purpose and design

We straighten our sight to see His love’s signs.

                                                     Holy, Holy, God of Creation!

                                                    All glory to You in Heaven and on Earth.

                                                    We offer praise in voice and meditation,

                                                     To our God, Spirit, Lord of immaculate birth.

When you pray, and hold your hands out, opened wide,

Bring into your heart the power and grace outside;

Mountains magnificent, streams, so clear;

Hills and valleys, carrying so many songs of birds to hear,

And seas, large and deep, with white capped towers,

Or reflectively still, before the grace of His power.

                                                      Glory, Glory to our God most Holy!

                                                     All praise your grace and love.

                                                     By your Word, we give ourselves wholly,

                                                      Bowing before your power above.

The gift of our God, creation before our eyes,

Brings our hearts to screams of joy and cries

Of “Holy, holy thou art”;

Yet still, all is diminished, by a large part,

By the greatest gift, His Son, who for us was slain

To bring our fallen souls, back to creation’s gifts again.

                                                       Grace, grace be your Name!

                                                      All kings kneel before your throne.

                                                      Mountains will fall, stars do the same,

                                                       Your creation bows to You alone

When you pray, no matter where your hands reach,

Or even clasped together, as our children, we teach.

Open your heart, unbind your soul,

Give up your pride and sinful goals.

Give Him glory, receive forgiveness’ grace,

Fly to Him, His Son, through the Spirit, to creation’s eternal place.

Copyright by Thomas Watson, 2005