Under a canopy of wandering stars

I waded through a sea of wheat

As the moon shone down in a stream of light

Caressing the bristled shafts

like a mother comforting her child

With a delicate kiss and a glowing smile.


 Crickets began to sing, a thousand songs

In a single voice.  A rustled applause

Began to grow and I could feel the conductor

Take the stage and with a sweeping wave

millions of frayed batons began to keep time,

As wind directed the evening's chorus.


Bristled waves lapped at my sides

In unison with the crickets' song

When an orbiting voice called to me.

"Release your fears and rise above

The soiled bonds of Earth, come dance a lunar jig

With the queen of the evening sky."


That is God

I rise up

And watch the dawning

Of another day

In the glory

And fullness

That is God.


Colors sing praises

To the wonder

And the majesty

That is God.


Birds sing,

The dew shimmers,

And I am filled

With the wonder

That is God.


Sometimes we go too fast,

And we forget

To look and see

The beauty,

And the Glory

That surrounds us

That is God.


Let Go

Letting go is hard

Even when you know itís right.

God says to follow Him,

Leaving everything and everyone.

Donít look back, donít look back;

Remember Lotís wife!


Letting go is hard

Even Jesus had difficulty

Leaving His friends,

But He didnít leave them alone;

Just call on Him

And the Holy Spirit is already there.


Letting go is hard

When itís not your idea.

Sometimes you hear Godís voice

But youíre not really listening,

Itís just your own desires

Closing your ears and shouting over God.


Letting go is easier

When you finally open your ears

And God subdues your fears.

Letting go is easier

When God shows you His idea

And itís better than your own.


Letting go is easier

When you realize

Youíre not really letting go,

Youíre just letting God.

ď...whoever loses his life

For My sake shall find it.Ē

Matt. 16:25


Steam gently rises

From a mystical brew

As it swirls in ebony hue


A steady stream

Of liquid exhilaration

Fills a pot to the brim


Motivation for the morn

Warmth from the cold

Comfort for the soul


A cup is all it takes

A pot is never enough

To curb a coffee buff


All poetry is the property of Ken Southcott and may not be used, or reproduced without permission.

Ken Southcott, Copyright: October 2004