Tree of Thanksgiving

If you received this post by email, click the URL to hear this song.

A 3-part, thanksgiving round – please enjoy, remember, and share!

Give your thanks in unbroken song!
Thanks to the One who is One and All!
Live your thanks, for you belong
To the Tree of Life!

Click here for more on the Tree of Life.

And enjoy these songs by Nancy Abercrombie!

Thanks be to God

Thank You, God


The service was so beautiful;
Communion cups were passed.
And from the light we saw that day,
The bond was sure to last.
But in the haze of drunkenness
With spirits flowing fast,
Their love gave way to skeletons
And shadows of the past…

A sad but too often true Quadrille for De’s “shadow” prompt at

The Scent of Pages

The scent of pages takes me back
To story time when, as a child,
I reveled in the sound of tales
Of lands far off and friends nearby.

The pages turn and years, they pass,
But even still my nose can tell
The difference in the newspaper
Or magazine, and books loved well.

The scent of pages takes me back
To brighter days and better times.
I catch it now and breathe a smile;
The pages sent an open mind!

Grace is hosting Tuesday Poetics at
where the challenge is to write about “scent”. Though I can’t read printed books, I’ve always been drawn to pages–stinky newspaper, slick magazines, old, well-worn books with cracked covers… I knew them all, both by touch and by scent. I still love paging through a book, not to read, but to take it in and remember there really is a world of possibilities right here!


Ouch! How the thorns of life impress their mark;
Impacting like a traitor in the dark!
A bleeding wound that never seems to heal;
With all the replays, blood cannot congeal.
Too overwhelmed, forgetful in the pain..;
Take heart! The roses always bloom again!

I’ve come to enjoy this, the Quadrille at
where Björn is hosting, and today’s word is “rose”!

Still Life

I am the sculpture;
I’ll come right out and tell you that.
Which one?
I can’t say, because you don’t really care.

I was stone before I became this statue.
I am still stone.
And I will be stone even thereafter,
If (Merciful heavens!) I am chiseled to bits.

I told you I am the sculpture,
But I lied.
Yes, I, too, can create a ruse!
How do you like that?
The same way you like it when people point at you
Or put you in their neatly labeled box
And say, “THIS is who you are!”

You are not THAT,
And I am not the statue alone.
Heck! I am not even stone!
I Am Life!

You don’t think so;
You don’t believe what I say.
But did you believe me then,
When I said I am the sculpture?

No matter.
You can have your opinions,
And beliefs!
These are problems I do not have-

But I am still Life!
I was before the stone was.
I was before the sculpture was.
I am now,
In the stone and the rendered statue.
And I will be
Long after the sculpture is no more,
Long after the stone has eroded.
I am there.

But lest you leave this conversation all freaked out on me,
Let me come right out and tell you that
You are Life, too!
Stoned or not,
Oops did I say stoned?
Ha ha even the stones have a sense of humor!

Anyway, no matter the state
In which you find yourself, Grasshopper,
You are Life!
So live on,
For you are sculpture and stone,
Artist and observer,
Creator and creation!

Now step lively,
Rock the boat,
And live Life with the Spirit that You Are!

Oh, before you go?
Tell that painting over there
That it is still life, too.


dVerse | Poetics – Chisel Me a Conversation.
I had fun writing this!

What I Fear

I fear my feelings, great and small
That pile up and roll and balls,
Compress themselves so dense and deep,
To build their house on top of me!

They decorate my mind and heart
With everything that’s cold and dark.
They take my thoughts and feelings good,
And burn them up like coal and wood.

I fear the way that I would be
If they should get the best of me!
And so I turn to God above,
Within me now, for strength and love!

I may not always feel His peace,
But I know God will never cease.
He calms the storm and every fear
And makes these feelings disappear.

God washes out their house of sand,
For I am in His guiding hand.
He shows me where to build my place:
Upon His rock of truth and faith.

This poem was very loosely based on today’s NaPoWriMo prompt. The prompt was an Almanac Questionaire, and one category was “What I fear.” Also based on the New Testament parable of the wise builder and the foolish builder.

Click here for more from NaPoWriMo!

The Music Inside

This poem is based on my experiences writing songs on ukulele. But it applies to all of life! Things tend to go better when we let the Universe or God micromanage them, rather than trying to go it “alone.”

4 strings and a bundle of nerves
2 hands and a couple of curves
fingers flying and taking a swerve
All for the music inside!

3 chords and the timing is wrong
Strumming, picking, is that a song?
Play it, sing it, move along
All for the music inside!

4 strings and a barrel of fun
Worry and hurry are over and done
The singing and playing in Spirit is One
All for the music inside!

Shared at
where you’ll find many wonderful poets and poems!

Cookie Song

Why not sit down with some cookies and a cup of coffee, tea or cocoa for this one? Eat, drink, and be meditative. Who says it can’t be fun? 🙂

Instrument: Tempo – Seagull Excursion Folk Acoustic Guitar

1. Baking yummy cookies, takes a lot of time.
Mixing up ingredients, and measuring just right,
Rolling out and thinning dough, and smoothing all the lumps,
Pressing down the cutters, making sure they don’t get stuck.

2. Cookies are a harvest, of patience, love and faith.
Effort is rewarded, with sweets to give and take.
Gobbled up so quickly, or savored nice and slow,
Every single cookie says, we’re made with love to show.

3. Sometimes there are cookies, we say aren’t good enough,
Maybe burnt or broken, maybe hard or rough.
Though every one is different, they are cookies just the same,
Some unique and special treat, a blessing to create.

Like those cookies, each of us is better for the storm.

Eat your cookies, with a thankful heart.
Eat your cookies, let them do their part
To show that love is always there, it’s just in different forms.
It’s mixed and rolled and baked and iced, for cookies soft and warm.
And like those cookies, each of us is better for the storm.


Cookie Cutter

More Great Expectations

The Truth About More
– Continued

TO get all the MORE you’ve been asking God for,
This question is key to supply:
“Now who’ has the floor and who’s keeping the score?”
The answer just might change your life…

The personal mind, you may come to find,
Has strings tightly bound to the earth.
The things it demands into its open hands
Are fine, but in time lose their worth.

One MORE we expect, and another reject
For not painting the picture we hold.
But the color in store could be better than yours;
You will know as the showing unfolds.

So to get all the MORE you’ve been asking God for,
Remember He knows what you need.
And the you on the floor that is keeping the score
Is proven illusion indeed.

The Shoes We Think God Wears

A modern-day parable in song – about shoes, or is it?

Instrument: Eventide – Mainland Mahogany Concert Ukulele

1. Shoes are made for business, dressing up and going places.
Some for playing sports, heavy work, and running races.
Problems seem to come when we fray and cut the laces
Of the shoes we think God wears.

2. Look at all the sizes, the styles and the shapes!
And There’s demand for every shoe they make.
Yet we judge the worth and the right to display
The different shoes we think God wears.
Refrain: (Twice)

That’s why there are many parts of the One.
Every soul is God’s, and He knows the path they’re on.

Remember, God has more shoes than [last time: just] yours.
You can’t fill them all, of course.
That’s why there are many parts of the One.
Every soul is God’s, and He knows the path they’re on.