Clouds and cauliflower
And things that won’t be known,
Join hands with Mandelbrot
And reveal their certain faces,
Because God is a God of order
And leaves us glorious traces,
Broken lines to show man’s thoughts
And His are not so separate,
Coming together in lovely moments
And prettier pictures to replicate
His love for us in His design;
And we are one day infinite.
Copyright 2018. L.L. Shelton.
Sparkling sound
Golden grammar
Lovely language
Dancing round
Stooping low
Leaping high
Heaven bound
Earth for now
Transfixed
Copyright 2018. L.L. Shelton.
Will I be different,
When I am new?
Will I still be me?
Will you still be you?
Will we still laugh?
Will we still cry?
Will there still be,
A time for goodbye?
Will there be a wind?
Will it still blow?
I answer your questions;
I say I don’t know.
Copyright 2018. L.L. Shelton.
I have allowed, Child, that you cannot shame me;
I have loved you in your unrighteousness.
I have embraced you in your sin.
I have done what you cannot;
I have done what is perfect.
I have given you The Word,
And I have promised to
Never take it from you.
Marked with Holy Seal,
Now and Eternally,
You are mine.
Copyright 2018. L.L. Shelton.
Falling drops,
From skies from eyes,
Crowding out the light;
Falling faces,
Do confess to distress,
Welcoming the night.
Copyright 2017. L.L. Shelton.
Allow me not to shame you,
Father I have loved.
At your gracious invitation,
More so at your command
I have loved you.
All the while imperfectly,
And yet authentically
I have embraced you.
Your Word is life to me,
Without it I shall not want to live.
Without that which is you,
There is no life.
Allow that I please you,
Though my way still is fraught
With the dust of my composition.
Make me a pleasantry to yourself,
While I am yet clay.
Amen.
Copyright 2018. L.L. Shelton.
This is my daddy’s blanket.
I got it at Lolli’s house.
My daddy’s in heaven.
Is Joseph in heaven?
Did Daddy see Joseph?
Is Baby Jesus in heaven?
Did Daddy see Baby Jesus?
We snuggle under Daddy’s blanket,
And I wonder at all that I know,
And at all that I don’t know.
I hear his rhythmic breathing.
I hold him, kiss his precious face,
And I marvel at all that we’ve lost,
And at all that we’ve found.
Copyright 2018. L.L. Shelton.
As a favorite philosopher/theologian Francis Schaeffer stated quite appropriately in his thesis, How Should We Then Live, art is merely the expression of a man’s mind. I’ve spent many years processing this idea imparted to me by Dr. Schaeffer. I knew I agreed with him from the moment I heard him utter it, but I think I knew there was more that needed to be said.
The true artist is of either the most courageous among us or the genuinely nonchalant; for he dares to create something abiding which will outlast his own existence here. He is a person of conviction who boldly believes in his right and ability to impress on his own generation and on the ones to come his thoughts, his experience, or he is oblivious to his own place- maybe to his own identity, and in a whirlwind of reactivity leaves a piece of himself behind.
The importance of art certainly can not be overstated as it is of a permanence our physical bodies do not attain. Art will endure and it will influence and persuade those whom it touches. It will do these things with or without permission. It will do these things within and outside of boundaries, and it will remain our responsibility as individual souls to respond in a manner conducive to the blessing of our brothers and sisters in humanity.
Copyright 2018. L.L. Shelton.
…And yet by hope in mystery,
Belief in what I cannot see,
I’ll be relieved this awful death,
Have life abundantly,
Will not hang relentlessly
Upon this cross ‘twas built for me,
Will instead at your command
Be In Love eternally,
Will behold the summer storm
In all it’s fury, kept from harm,
Though wrapped in winter’s blizzard
Be all the while made warm,
Observing autumn’s dying hues
No longer be inspired to gloom,
Knowing raging change of spring
Enjoying peace in everything.
Copyright 2018. L.L. Shelton.
I will not heed the myrrh, the wine.
I’ll hang here ’til the end of time,
Feel the full unyielding pain,
Unending summer void of rain,
Winter hardship without snow,
Autumn foliage minus glow,
In spring witness no rebirth,
I will bear this awful curse,
Refuse to numb my aching mind,
Refuse to welcome senses blind.
To tolerate your lawlessness,
I will receive no recompense…
Copyright 2018. L.L. Shelton.