Posts Categorized: poetry

Gothic Angel Holding a Clock

Clocking In

I didn’t quit my job of loving,
When you stopped punching your time card.
I clock in to life,
Heart uncallused by the rough, 24-hour, work of losing.
I freely hope, with splinters of grief digging deep into my soul.
Faith, joy, and compassion embrace the world
With a work ethic that suicide cannot render unconscious
To the world around me.

A poem from Broken Butterflies Emerging Through Grief

Turning Your Page

Your story is powerful. Knowing what caused you to turn the pages on the hardest day of your past can help you to turn the page on the hardest page now.

  • Meditate on the verse: ” Your love has given me great joy and encouragement, because you, brother, have refreshed the hearts of the Lord’s people” (Philemon 1:7 NIV).
  • Journal about a day that was difficult as a child, adolescent, first job. Identify the elements that made it hard. Did someone hurt you? Were you in constant physical pain? What did you believe about yourself at the moment?
  • What helped you to move forward to take hold of the next day?
  • Did someone encourage your spirit or stand up for you? Did you take a walk? Sleep on it? Speak truth over the situation?

I will be on Facebook until 7:30 pm.

Girl Dancing in a Field

Set Free Indeed (Haiku): Poetry Prompt

Dirt shaken hope, rise.
Grave freed soul dance unhindered.
—arms bathed white in life.

Poetry Prompt: Freedom

Haikus became breath prayers for me after my son’s death. They were a way I could acknowledge both the depth of my sorrow and the saturated color of God’s abundant answers.

Meditate on John 8:12:

Again Jesus spoke to them, saying, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life”.

John 8:12 ESV

Write a haiku, 3 lines of 5-7-5 syllables, or another short-form poem in response. Focus on your senses and describe how you observe freedom in nature, death, and life. How does God describe the freedom he gives to you?

Leave the link to your poetry response in the comments or pingback to this prompt.


You planted me firmly
in the desert of despair.

A comfort.
A witness.

Flesh is not my strength.
I am dust under the weight
of sorrow soaked hope.
Cracked souls remember
rain will come.
I grow rooted. Crave you. Secure.
Sustenance will come, you appointed
the season. I know it.

Striving quiets.
Your promises stored.

Though I stand here for a hundred years.
A drop of your love is enough for me
until you flood my soul with the
joy of presence. And I feel the steady
rhythm of revealed rain.

Dark Side Lightened

I benefit from this anguish.
Your judgment that finds faith
lacking. You reveal secrets.
Pull truth from my heart like
a colorful magician’s scarf. I choke
on the hate. Vomit anger, and
bite down on the bitterness of repulsive
slavery. I weep.

And still,
you empty me.

Remember my image to me, the
heart you canvased in my mother’s womb.
Brushstroke light, concealed in
despair. Display
a masterpiece through the shadows of my suffering.

Dedicated to the many children who experience abuse.

Finding Sunshine in Despair

I search for sunshine among shadows.
And find you, creator of dark and light,
dancing with fireflies under
the spotlight of moon and stars.

Morning Devotion

You paint me a new sunrise
in the first breaths of dawn.
I smile as I reach for your love notes.
Quiet. Still. I know you.
I witness your craftsmanship, etched into the
canvas of creation.
I lean into the truth of your stable
character. Faithful.
Your love is on my lips
because you fill my heart
with the joy of presence.

Under The Influence of Resurrection

I stand amazed,
Your amp
Electrified my soul and
Testified boldly to the audience
That you are indeed the crucified All-Mighty.

Drunk? No.
Under the influence of
Your resurrection I
Cannot help but belt out
My gratefulness. Holy Holy
Is the Lord Almighty.

You became my passionate rift of joy,
a bridge that opens eyes to possibility
in the monotony
of daily trials. You are my
chorus to echo experience,
of resurrected life.

(Inspired by Pentecost Acts 1)

Summer Psalmist

I stretch out on a blanket, book in hand, bare
feet crisscrossed in meditation while soaking in
summer’s choir. Scripture’s sweet serenade rustles
remembrance of Creator and creation, beneath whispering

The sopranos and altos chirp from
tree and grass harmonizing as they
exert; while crooning frogs flirt with baritone
bellows, calling for their girl.

Summer’s song invites me into the steady
rhythm of tire swings and popsicle stained, childhood
giggles. Book abandoned, I dangle over river’s edge,
pumping legs in eager anticipation of touching
clouds and releasing cares as I plop into the
cool refreshment of your love.

Teaching My Spirit to Dance

Suicide doesn’t water down faith with
flowery prose about God.
I take my doubts to the mat and wrestle
with who He is.

Depression is the resistance between
my will and Yours, God.
Sacrifice, daily dripping sweat,
as I work out belief on the gym floor of reality.
Muscles cry out through the strain of discipline.

But still, You coach me beyond what
I think I can accomplish. “Just one more breath!”
Shaping and toning my soul into Your image.
Turning heads with a foxy endurance
that is not of this world!

Walking With God

Walking through nature is like climbing into the

lap of God for story time.

When I listen, I am reborn.



Suicide & Prevention Hotline

National Suicide Hotline

If you or a loved one are in immediate danger, call the National Suicide Lifeline at 988 or go to the website at