Barbara J. Weekley
About this Christian Poet:
Barbara
has been writing poetry and small stories for several decades. She has
a tremendous sense of humor, and people who know her are often surprised
by her more sober and serious poetry—a side of her that is not often
seen. Nature is her greatest inspiration, and she likes to mix her love
for the creation and the Creator throughout her works. She also writes
about the more painful aspects of life and living. Barbara lives with
her husband Charles, the youngest of three grown sons, Nathan, and her
elderly mother, known as Nana, in a small Ohio town along the Great Lake
Erie.
The Pines
I
come down
To the quiet place,
My hushed cathedral,
Secluded beneath the pines
Where silent boughs
Let me rest.
I see the sun stretch
Golden ropes,
Tying back the limbs
Of old giants,
Trying to reach me.
The pines heave their incense,
The grass moves in whispers
Revealing muted storms ahead.
Rough wood scuffs
The chanting zephyr,
Soft rains drip down
Their jagged edge,
Like sacred streams of sweat,
Melting me to moss.
They hear my echoes,
My prayer.
Copyright©2002 by Barbara J. Weekley