The Seasons: A Poem

Sunrise over Amazing Grasses Family Farm The mad Artist wields His brush, Painted colors rush, To life and give flush, Before the quiet autumn hush. The life seems to pour, As colors fall to the floor, To be seen no more, Outside the dark, grey door. Brightness from below, Sun upon the snow, High, cold clouds blow, Flakes and ice appear to grow. The man melts with little seen, Underneath, pale, grey green, Hides life in dark unseen, Waits for warmth and to careen. Buds on branches show, Patience starts to grow, Trickles, streams and veins flow, Bringing fruits of melted snow. Sprung to life it springs, Bees, birds, sound rings, Lush green flings, Its gift bounty brings. Green growth gives one last rush, Underneath the Painter's brush. The mad Artist wields His brush, before the quiet autumn hush. More poetry is available from James M. Hahn in  The Last Dragon and Other Poems  available now. My new book of cryptogram puzzles " Secret Messages from the Saints " is avai

Blind Men

Image result for jesus and blind man

Blind, darkness
movements felt without shadow

Begging, humiliated
hand outstretched open and empty

Hearing, trusted
shuffling feet and voices passing by

Asking, explanation
mind reasoning with the noise

Answer, Yeshua
heart filled with joy and boldness

Crying, desperately hopeful
passersby embarrassed by the man

Pleading, Son of David
God, neither blind nor deaf

Begging, sight
sight and faith restored

Sight, given
to more than one that day


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