Sunday Poems

By Elaine Knudtson

Each Sunday I sit quietly in my front room with a pen and journal letting the Spirit direct my thoughts while choral music plays in the background.  This is a precious time for me.  It resets my week and connects me to the sacred.  I have chosen several poems from my summer journal that I hope will find resonance with you.

Summer

Quiet my restless soul.

I am like a runner on the starting blocks of summer, waiting for the gun to sound.

So little time in Paradise.

Ripe fruit drips sweet nectar, seducing painted winged guests.

Grass ripples in velvet waves, cheering the breeze that skims across the prairie.

Song birds and chattering streams echo their harmonies in the amphitheatre of the river valley.

Prisms of light transform water into diamonds on the silver willow.

My skin warms to the sun, tickling my senses, reminding me of the first summer I ran naked through the fountain.

Summer is the stardust that converts the ordinary into the divine.

 

In His Image

Created in the image of God

Conformed to His likeness

Ruler over creation

Submissive to the glory of God,

In you I experience His love, gentleness and compassion.

I splash through the fountain of your love, delighting in your attention.

You are more gentle with me than I am with myself.

I skip lazily down each shaded pathway, confident that I will always hear the music of your love calling me safely home.

When I am surprised by the dogs of doubt, fear and despair,

You expose their toothless lies and empower me to embrace them.

Though I am often broken, you elevate me with your encouragement, comfort and love.

We are purveyors of God’s grace to each other, messengers of His mercy, ministers of His compassion.

When I seek the best in you, I find the best in me.