Spring Mornings (A Loveku)

The
snow is
gone.
I am dreaming of
bright spring
mornings
with a longing heart.

Tzippor

Song-being, the sky is your domain;
the sky is pregnant with song!
A brilliant flash of rainbow wings
and I am helpless, mesmerized.

Skyah has sent you to earth to love us.
Bashful heavenly ambassadors,
your songs and cries bring me closer to God.

The Sun is Yet Rising

Shining bread flies
and the land cries.
The spirit song so sweet,
deaf to concrete ears
and the wings of the heart are still.

I am famished
in the land so joyous.
The Rook has embraced me
with a weary smile.
Oh how soft the feathers of death!
His song is tears.

The Bird of Paradise
alights on the fencepost.
I bury my face in his breast
and sob the song so deep.
His rainbow feathers are like lightning,
giving life to the heart.
"Dry your eyes, little one.
The sun is yet rising."

Who is there with a heart like yours, O Jehovah?

Who is there with a heart like yours, O Jehovah?
There is no one like you, Loving Merciful,
for you are exalting all those weeping over their error,
and you are establishing all those
who have begged for forgiveness.

There is no one like you, Father Embracing,
for you gather up your people into your wings
and comfort them until the end of all sorrow.

Cygnet Choir

A gathering of young swan,
a morning awaited for so long.
The spring ceremony begins
as the cygnets sing.

"See how the leaves, green and wild,
turn themselves to the sun.
The lily fair, among her hair,
Gaia steps lightly, bringing joy and life."

Terminating winter, white banished
from the surface of the earth.
The sun, formerly obscured by dark clouds,
emerges from the Labyrinth Above.

Winter's wraith is blown away.
A warm caress descends upon the land.
The lark on the hill, I by the windowsill,
and he and I sing across valleys of endless breeze.

Singing Their Joy at My Healing (Apr. 2019)

Look! He has called me back from death.
The eyes of flinty rock that once looked upon flesh
are now sparkling sapphires peering into the spirit.
The dry and listless hair of one dying
has become strands of black opals, burnished to a shine.
The ears of concrete that were hard and unhearing
have become channels of glittering emeralds,
accommodating every righteous sound.
The skin, cracked and bleeding,
the skin of one tempted and then crushed by Satan,
has become the smoothest alabaster,
whiter than snow and blinding to look upon
in the light of day.

On the wings of eagles He carried a broken man
and has remade me into something beautiful.
He commands the sons of the ravens to come to me,
bringing me my food,
and I do not send them off
until I have bathed and preened them.

Jehovah has called me to Him,
and I have answered,
and He has removed the veil from my heart.
Now I reflect His glory, more and more by the day,
and the ravens, the eagles, and all the birds of heaven
congregate around me, singing their joy at my healing
and giving praise to God.

Sparrow has grown old

Sparrow has grown old;
his wings are heavy and his voice not as bright.
The cool wind of fall ruffles hair and feathers
as we sit together by the lake.

Turning to me, he says:
"Brother, even the sky will die,
and the wind itself is not a thing eternal.
But you, if you remain righteous and faithful,
you will see Paradise forever."

Putting my arm around him and holding him tight,
I choke out my words:
"Please, do not speak of such a thing!
I cannot bear to see you go.
You who are so beautiful and so free in the sky,
I do not wish to see cold in the ground."

"I know that such a thought is painful,
but I cannot escape my destiny.
Do not worry, though, for my children you will love,
and their children after me;
you will always have brothers and sisters in us."