Autumn of my Days

Ah! Comest on the autumn of my days.
When glory wreathes me in rich hues—
Red and gold, yellow and bronze,
Placed on my head in victorious crown

Before the colours die and fall upon the ground.
Then winter will come and wrap me
In its blanket of white,
And I will be at peace
And sleep right through the night,

‘Til spring returns with greening rains,
And gentle breezes melt the icy rime
‘Til warming sun turns rivers’ iron core
Into fast running silver freshets.

And soon, oh yes, so very soon
Summer again will bring its fruits
And feed me with wondrous delights—
The Creator will serve me at the board.

© Judith Lawrence

Morning Rises

Morning rises later now
As September comes;
Five o’clock no longer sees
Light of dawn appear.

Seven o’clock brings sky’s grey tinge
Yet sun stays hidden in
His chamber—curtained, ‘til he can
No longer lie abed, for shame.

Sun draws his warmth around himself
In secret; scattering only pale, cool treasures
Of light on the ground; leaving behind him
Red-gold streaks in the trees once-green.

Reflections of morning will soon lie late
On icy-white drifts of snow; while sun’s reality
Streams south with the snow birds
And northerners mourn its loss.

Turning Point

A turning point arrives, pivotal;
There is a drawing to some new depth,
I know not the depth—or height—of it.
I feel the pull, strong and urgent.
God leads on. I desire to follow—
Glory, glory. I go along his path—
Lit with lanterns of his love.

© Judith Lawrence

Taproot

This poem was born while reading one of May Sarton’s Journals where she refers to the taproot within herself.

Taproot, descending from the essence of my being,
Grow strong, grow straight, deep down
Into the Ground of my existence,
Into the Godhead, the Trinity;
Father, Son and Holy Spirit.
Nourish my soul, my being, with love and strength.

© Judith Lawrence

Syllable of Soul-light

This poem was written on a line from a poem by Lalla—
a 14th century Indian Mystic

Syllable of soul-light
Enter me
Fill me
Overflow me.

One tiny morsel
Is enough;
One pin-point
Glow expands, reflects,
Overflows my banks.

I long for this
One-toned Syllable;
I’m filled with this
One-toned Syllable;

I become this
One-toned Syllable;
I’m filled with light;
I’m radiating light;

I’m surrounded by
The one-toned
Syllable of soul-light.

© Judith Lawrence

Haiku Offerings

1. God Delights in Morning

Hear flute’s melody
God delights in morning Lauds
Hidden hermit thrush.

2. No Thorns

Maltese cross flowers
Blood red petals ring glory
Christ crowned without thorns.

3. Light

Last night sliver moon
Lay on its back, its only
Light its own being.

© Judith Lawrence

Like Lotus Petals

As all creation unfolds
Energy explodes in prayer.

The butterfly emerging
From the chrysalis
Opens its wings and
Flies aloft in prayer.

Bulbs’ leaves push through
The lately snow-covered
Ground and petals
Open in flowers of
Crocus, daffodil,
Lily and hyacinth.

Baby birds emerge from
Eggs and fledge from
Nests in a matter of days.
Young wild animals
Mature in a matter of months.

They write creation
On the forest floor
Flora and fauna alike
Unfold in cosmic prayer.

Humans, evolving into
Spiritual beings, unfold
Slowly and steadily,
Their souls open to
God like lotus petals
In the morning sun.