Skip to main content

Night Air





Night Air

  I live in Gray, Louisiana where the gators and critters roam.  The black nights here are mild and calm.  Around 11:00 each evening, I take sweet Shiloh and the Irishman, Brody outside.  I stand and wait in the stillness.  The trees seem to sleep on their pillows of leaves.  Pacing feet take to mending den.  Rocking chairs have stopped swaying and chimes lightly ting in the air.  Houses hibernate in the twilight biding for shimmering sun.  New day, will you bring love, happiness, and goofy fun?  Dewy day, whatever comes, strength from God, I do pray.  

I look up to the white freckled sky; God, what majesty and peace you bestow on the earth.  The stars twinkle-pinkle in the blackness, charming my eyes.  The moon beams against the velvet clouds, the lantern of the bayou land.  My mind sits on the Big Dipper and rests by Orion’s Belt.  I drift to the Northern star and heavenly thoughts.  Jesus, guide my feet on this earthly dirt.  I surrender everything to you, creator of angelic firmament.  I trust my starry eyes to you. 

When you look at the night sky, what do you think?  Do your thoughts tarry on ground or do they take steps to God?  Where does the night air lead you?  Does your cold breath warm your heart with godly tinkering?  The night air takes me on an adventure throughout the earth.  My breath at night, takes flight. 

Breath at Night

Breath at night,
take celestial, mystical flight
to starry ebon world above
Bits and bobs of twinkle brass knobs
Window glow moon
Old man, sing a tune

Breath at night
Ghostly smoke pipe
Earth, frosty ripe
Take to dark, peaceful trees
Skim sleepy blue waters
like ringlet toddler

Head to snooze-cap mountains
Rest, mighty Tetons
Little doe, calm
whitely nap

Night, what a glimmering sight
Misty breath, come back
from global track
Land nigh,
tired sigh
Lantern lights cloudy heights
Time to hit the hay
Breath at night
take to bedding bay

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

"Memory Day" Memories

“Memory Day” Memories   August 11 th , 2008 will always be etched in my mind.   Why? Do you ask?   That was the day the leading man in my life went home, my dad, Bob J. O’Banion.   He was my encourager, support system, teacher, boulder, and most importantly, a godly leader.   When you needed a hand, both of his calloused hands were there to hug, shake, and give you a pat on the back.   When you needed Christian advice, his wisdom traveled from his can line to yours.   With the can pressed against your ear, you’d hear, “God is the way, the truth, and the light.”   He was a true definition of a man, a sovereign man.   Integrity made him a humble guide through the Blueridge Mountains, the dry desert, and beyond.   Love lined his face with deep canyon wrinkles.   He sought and dug ditches to provide.   The rooftop was his “day home”.   Sun-tanned skin branded him a “sweat by the brow” toiler.   Family sto...
2 comments
Read more

Seasonal Change

The loss of my dad still hurts, especially when seasons change.  . For those who have lost a loved one, the aching still seems to pulsate through the cracks left upon our hearts.  . Seasonal change can breeze in bronzes of bereavement. It can fall with ambers of aches and molasses colored missing.  . For me, this is true about Autumn. The leaves change once again, and my dad’s memory wafts o’er red-roofed wishing wells. The shallow water collects pennies of “wish you were here” under Birch trees.  . Seasons and holidays blow in memories that patina the past.  . Those who have lost a parent, we think upon childhood memoirs. Instances where we held our mom or dad’s hands, while strolling under amber stained glass etched with maple leaves.  . I think upon harvest memories where the jack-o-lanterns flow, and the crockpot chili steams in bowls.  . My dad walks behind my brother and I as we prance towards candy. In seasonal memory “trick-or-treats” bounce of...
2 comments
Read more

Eradication of Women

Eradication of the Woman . The biological woman is being eradicated second by second with secularistic folly. .  The woman is being black-washed with worldly paint that is stained with sinful strips of stupidity.  . The life of a woman is being subdued by subterranean slyness. In the tunnels of dark thoughts, biology is being hidden in the crevices of craftiness. God’s nature and order are being covered by demonic dirt.  . - Nature: God has given us fierce feminine genes that only the true woman can bare. A man cannot possess these genes with a fickle change of temporary thought.  - Order: Womanly empowerment does not embody a man. As the character, Eowyn, boldly hailed as she slayed evil in Tolkien’s, Lord of the Rings, “I am no man!” . No ladies, we are women…women of God! We are poised with difference and uniquely special. We are biologically beautiful, and men cannot “think” themselves into our territory of traits.  . In today’s lifeless and uncharted societ...
Post a Comment
Read more