Friday, September 22, 2017

Secrets of the Sea


Secrets of the Sea
©2017 Susan Noyes Anderson

When my own tides are at low ebb,
I stand beside the sea.
Bright waves of truth I used to know
come washing over me.

The sand dampens beneath my feet,
connecting me to ground.
A sacred message to my soul
rises in every sound.

Its rhythm whispers ancient tales,
soft secrets of the deep, 
reflections of the promises
my spirit longs to keep.

And I embrace the mystery:
the pulses of the earth,
the highs, the lows, the ebbs and flows,
the watery rebirth.

Peace lands so gently on my shoulder,
lifts me on its wings.
My freed heart opens to the sea
and every gift it brings.

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Sunday, September 10, 2017

God Watches Out for Me

Art by David Bowman

God Watches Out for Me
©2017 Susan Noyes Anderson

In ways I cannot always see,
I know God watches out for me––
His loving instinct to protect
expressed as I might not expect.

Storms threaten, and I beg release;
instead, He leads me to His peace. 
I call on Him to still the sea;
most times, He simply buoys me.

Illness descends; I pray for cure.
He lifts me higher to endure.
This mountain is too steep, I plead,
yet He removes it not from me.

Ease keeps us small, too weak to stand;
struggle and strength go hand-in-hand.
Still, when woes rush at me in pairs,
sometimes I wonder if He cares.

Then in my heart of hearts I kneel,
as He assures His love is real.
In ways I cannot always see,
I know God watches out for me.

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Friday, August 11, 2017

Depression: Cornering the [Black] Market


©2017 Susan Noyes Anderson

You don't understand me,
he said.
No one knows
of the suffering
stored in my soul.

I told him of dark days
I stumbled 
and bled,
days when life nearly
swallowed me whole.

But it wasn't the same,
he insisted;
his pain
was unique and mine
could not compare.

My empathy suspect,
my counsel
in vain,
I held back things
I wanted to share.

It bruised me to look
 at him,  
caught up in
misery, claiming
it all as his own.

He holds the black shadow
so close to 
his chest
that he's left
to do battle alone.

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Friday, June 23, 2017

Taking Back the Knack


©2017 Susan Noyes Anderson

I think I may have lost the knack
that surely was my stock in trade
in days gone by. The years have made
me less adept. I've gone off track.

Relationships: I had a gift
of sensing need, meeting it well.
But lately, I am empty shell,
and every comer gets short shrift.

Oh granted, things are crazy here.
A drooping sun. A spinning moon.
Wheels of (mis)fortune turn too soon.
No respite. Toxic atmosphere.

Machine gun miseries from all.
A clip of trouble raining down.
Can't keep my people off the ground.
Can't always see them when they fall.

It rankles when I fail to see.
Not used to it. Don't like it much.
I'm fading, dropping balls and such.
Not quite the force that once was me.

Used up. Burned out. Like melted wax.
Point taken. I'm no northern star.
But they're my heart. Straight up, they are.
And I'll not drop them through the cracks.

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Friday, April 21, 2017

A Postcard Wave


©2017 Susan Noyes Anderson

Just jotting down a word or two
to let you know that I love you
and miss you, too, if truth were told.
(The bathroom grout is sprouting mold.)

Just blowing kisses o'er the sea,
hoping you'll blow some back at me.
I've also blown a bit of cash.
(Got super bored and drained our stash.)

No need to fret. I'm A-OK.
Don't hurry home and save the day.
I'm muddling along just fine.
(Wait! When's that income tax deadline?)

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Sunday, April 16, 2017

What Will We Give?


What Will We Give?
©2017 Susan Noyes Anderson

The Savior in Gethsemane
consumed our sins on bended knee,
took every sorrow, every loss
and broke them on the rough-hewn cross.

Christ sealed His gift in grief and pain,
renewed each heart in sacred rain
of Living Water, lifeblood spilled.
The ransom, paid. The law, fulfilled.

His temples pierced by thorny crown,
He laid His tortured body down.
The sacred flesh, abused and torn,
roused heaven and earth to weep, to mourn.

The tomb received Him as her own;
disciples wavered, left alone,
forgetting promises profound:
The ties of death would be unbound.

For Christ the Lord atoned for all;
no grave could hold Him, nor forestall
the blessings of eternity.
He lived! He lives! to set men free.

A Brother gave Himself in love.
The risen Lord now waits above.
What will we give? May our lives be
reflections of His charity.

Happy Easter!
He is risen!! 
=)

Friday, April 7, 2017

The Path of Peace


©2017 Susan Noyes Anderson

I love those peaceful moments of the heart
when mind and spirit finally run free,
the fleeting moments, seldom set apart,
when every soul is stilled to breathe, to be.

The quiet morning, jeweled in drops of dew,
the dusk as sunset colors fade to gray,
the mountaintop with wildflower view,
the friendly clouds to float each fear away.

A white dove calls; an eagle takes the sky.
A raindrop freshens bits of budding spring.
The redwood tree sends branches reaching high.
Soft sweetgrass waves its welcome, beckoning.

Across the earth, the beauty is profound:
serenity and nature, hand in hand.
The senses rise in sight and scent and sound,
collecting peace from grove to sea to sand.

And yet, absent the grace and power of God,
no wave would crest, no blossom bless the air.
It is His path of peace that all must trod,
and He waits patiently to lead us there.

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Monday, April 3, 2017

Touchstones


©2017 Susan Noyes Anderson

A rock is sure, reliable,
predictable and sane.
Its nature, set in solid stone,
shows little wax or wane.

Whatever changes must evolve
spread out across the years.
No shock and awe, no sudden swoon
when something new appears.

 Its smooth and soothing sturdiness
feels pleasing to the hand,
so cool against a fevered palm,
so warm in summer sand.

The properties are plain to see;
the texture sleek or rough.
This friend-that-can-be-counted-on
is tested, tried, and tough.

A rock seems an unlikely ally.
Keep one at the ready.
When all the world is shifting shapes,
a touchstone holds you steady.

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Wednesday, March 8, 2017

Woman, Be Bold


©2017 Susan Noyes Anderson

Reach up. Draw lightning from the sky.
Call down the rain on shifting sands.
Become the one who understands
where strength resides.
Control the tides; create your wake;
trust in your flow for its own sake.
No looking back, except to marvel
in the glory. You live the story.

And so be bold, be bold for you;
be bold for women far from view.
Be brave and real; contrive to feel
the rightness there.
Summon the wisdom of the womb.
Assume the mantle of your birth.
Ignite a flame across the earth
for woman's due. Begin with you.

My thoughts on International Women's Day.

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Tuesday, February 14, 2017

Love Sings


©2017 Susan Noyes Anderson

Love is a shell in golden sand,
a secret in a willing hand,
a piece of beauty worth its keep,
as mighty as the sea is deep.

Walk carefully on distant shores.
The ocean whispers, crashes, roars.
Be not distracted; find that one
reflected in the morning sun.

Embrace the gift, divinely made.
Let not the sacred music fade.
Hear all the magic; guard it well.
Live every tale it has to tell.

∞§∞

I like the notion of love as a fragile yet mighty shell waiting to be found by the right person. Discernment is everything, and choosing the one who will sing his or her music to you over a lifetime should be a careful process. Once found, that lovely gift is worthy of every protection, for it is truly magic. And oh, what stories a true and lasting love has to tell!

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