Moonlight’s Grace

A  series of Haiku inspired by Chopin’s Nocturne No. 19

Soft clouds in moonlight

Precision grace strikes my heart

A twill spins twilight

Iv’ry sounds belt sky

A soul lifted up Divine

clouds cover moonlight

Truth known by beauty

Expressed; heard; attained—now gone.

Drowned by modern noise

A Seed Must Fall

O’ Ancient Beauty
Thy torrents call deep to deep
Thy Word makes it be

Darkness; frost and chill
The Sun rises into vale
Thy word; speak and melt

O’ Morning Sun, shine forth
Thy rays of promise to renew
A Handmaid says, “yes.”

Water drops renew
For those who repent unto law
Now Binds all to He

Hand to Hand—Matters
a seed that died now revived
Single touch from He