Photo Courtesy of Donald Lindsey
An excellent wife who can find?
    She is far more precious than jewels (Proverbs 31:10).
To know you may freely bare 
your psychosis and
weep for a while
without ostracism,
and cry out for help together,
and suddenly see undeserved forgiveness.
To play silly childish games,
without shame, laughing
for a day in the bright sunlight.
To know you may live 
like eternity is a breath away,
and yet to go to sleep forever
will only be a refreshing nap
before you are together again,
hand in hand in the sunshine,
walking streets paved in gold.   

Copyright  © Donald Lindsey

12 February 2022

All rights reserved


Mr. Covid Head (1962)

I met this creature in 1962 whose face appeared in my second story bedroom window when I was only seven. My brother Rich and I shared a bedroom together, and he was only five at the time.

Anyway, Rich woke up and we had a funky chat with this creature. We talked about all sorts of weirdness. At one point, the creature said, “My name is Mr. Covid Head and I have come to warn you: Get yourselves a jab, boys.” We really didn’t know what he was talking about.

Later on, quite a few years later, Rich told me that it was a crazy-weird thing meeting Mr. Head. We had never mentioned the experience to anyone since it had happened, not to each other or even our parents.

So here we are, a couple guys in our 60s. Vaccinated and everything. Now I wonder if Mr. Head will ever show up again and say something like “I’m glad you boys got the jab” That would be pretty cool. Rich and I both think it would be crazy-cool to Meet Mr. Head again.

How Long the Winter Lasts

Logan Rose is a 13-year-old who is homeschooled in Michigan and loves creative writing. I was his instructor in a course titled Ancient Civilizations (Literature), at Coram Deo Academics, a homeschooling co-op, over the past two semesters. Logan is the first place winner of our class poetry contest this year for his poem titled “How Long the Winter Lasts.” Congratulations to Logan!

How Long the Winter Lasts

How long the winter lasts
How soon the springtime fades
How we love the springtime
And playing in the glades

After spring comes summer
And the weather is cleared
How we love this season
That banished all we feared

Let us not forget fall
The period of change
When the green leaves turn red
But also a whole range

How long the winter lasts
How soon the springtime fades
How we love the springtime
And playing in the glades

Copyright © by Logan Rose
All rights reserved, 18 June 2020

Trails of Grace

Longfellow's famous poem "I Heard the Bells On Christmas Day" contains a stanza we can hang our hats on, no matter how difficult things are in our lives:
"And in despair I bowed my head; 'There is no peace on earth,' I said; 'For hate is strong, And mocks the song Of peace on earth, good-will to men!'” I'm grateful to the The Gospel Coalition for leaving this morsel of truth. It altered my perspective and softened my pragmatic heart this past Christmas season. It made me see how small my difficulties are. Sometimes we read or listen to poetry blindly, without bothering to look into the circumstances of its conception. I urge you to select the link above, read Longfellow's story and his poem, and think about the impact that Luke 2:14 had imprinted in his consciousness. The truth is that there never has been peace on earth. The world has never been free of the bonds of hatred. But pure joy & peace comes from a source outside ourselves.

Longfellow shows us how to overcome our circumstances and find grace in the most unlikely space and time, and perhaps the most ironic situation imaginable.
Peace among those with whom He is well pleased!

Banishment Is Bliss

Photo courtesy of Donald Lindsey

Banished from the Garden

I was banished from the garden
for digging up the basil plants
and throwing them into the fire.
A temporary exile, but my heart
was pierced, and my guilt, heavy.

Such an addictive Asian herb,
the "Tulsi" in Hindi diction 
(Sacred Basil), pungent and sweet, 
should be banished instead of me.
What herb deserves such adoration?

"Such a wonderful Italian herb," 
my food aficionado friends say.
But au contraire, it was liberated 
by the Italians, who paired it 
with garlic, tomato sauce and thyme,

olive oil and rosemary and lemon,
finished with a refined Cabernet.
I blame the South Philly Italians,
the friends you gave me, who glorified
this ancient herb, and so I burned it.

To honor God . . . .

Copyright © Donald Lindsey
All rights reserved
July 2, 2019