Creation Unfolds

"The entire world is a divine scripture unfolding like cosmic prayer."
Entering the Castle by Caroline Myss

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.

Book Trailer: Highway of Holiness: Soul Journey

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Glory

Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Christ is risen from the dead.
His tomb is empty—
An angel sits where laid Christ’s head.
Christ is walking in the garden
He will speak your name.
If you seek him, he will be with you;
He will reveal himself to you.
Talk to him and he will answer;
Follow him and he will lead you,
In the way that you should go.
Hallelujah! Christ is risen,
Christ is risen from the dead.

Book Trailer: Highway of Holiness: Soul Journey

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Hummingbird Watch

I waited and watched
from the middle of April.
I knew it was too early.

It hung there
like a red jewel
reflecting the sun’s rays.

I replenished its strawberry shape
with fresh sweet-water
every few days.


One week into May
I heard the hum of his wings
and saw him in his ruby-throated splendor.

He was the first of many to come -
the expected one -
the harbinger of summer’s migration.

He stopped only for strength
for the journey,
then pressed on further north.

Others will come and stay until September,
when their departure
will herald the coming of winter.

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Trailer for Highway of Holiness: Soul Journey by Judith Lawrence coming soon

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Easter Garden

In the garden
Where I wept
Jesus called my name.

Rowan Tree

A Conversation between Christ and the Rowan Tree

O Rowan Tree, weep not for me.
Limb on limb, I lie outstretched,
Thou hold’st me up in thine own arms,
Thou cradlest me from birth.
Weep not, weep not, O Rowan Tree,
Weep not for me.

O Christ, I can’st but weep for Thee,
I sorrow to be the instrument of torture for Thy limbs.
My tears pour down in steady flow,
The sap pours from my wounds,
Where nails have held Thee fast to me.
I did but wish to cradle Thee as in the manger days,
And now I weep from guilt.
Sorrowing, I weep for Thee.

O Rowan Tree, thou should’st not weep,
The sin is man’s not thine.
See, here, I bless thy flowing tears
And make them drops of wine.
Blood red, henceforth, thy berries be,
Thy berries, red as blood,
Thy tears, blood red as wine,
Wine red, as my own blood.

Quiet Moment

My spirit cannot gain a quiet moment,
It cannot hear your voice out in the world
Amongst the mighty torrent that surrounds it
From morning radio blare to traffic roar.
Too many images bombard my tired eyes
And holiness is lost
Within the tragic sights
Of murder, war, and cruelty on nightly news.

A breath of quiet calls me to the wilderness
To heal my inward ears and eyes;
To give my soul and spirit rest
In open desert and oasis shade.
I pitch my tent beneath the spacious skies
And count the heavenly bodies bright above.
Each star pronounces healing to my troubled sighs
Through the Creator’s vast and wondrous love.

Here in the wilderness, my restless anguish is released.
My soul and body, mind and spirit
Open to renewal, like flowers in the sun;
I am freed to see and hear the truth again.
I prepare to walk into the world once more
To offer myself in God’s service,
To give myself in Christ’s love.
Here I am, receive me; here I am, send me.

Desert Sands

Desert sands call to us
Oases bring us rest and shade;
Lenten hours of quiet time
Renew us in our faith.