Morning Fog

-

A poem dusted off from the ancient archives.  
A reflective moment while driving a country road to work, 
thinking of days past and days to come.



 
Light fog on the country fields.
Gentle sunlight
reaching through in a dance of glory.
August morning softly filtered.

If I am a child
I run in the grass,
damp with the morning’s dew,
and paradise is mine.

If I am old
I stand in fields of my solitude,
united with my creator,
taking deep breaths, cherished.

Between
these two stages of life
I fail at times to pause.
I push past empty fields,
burdening my haste.

Though,
if for just a moment
I slow my pace,
I reflect on the child past
and feel a longing
for the old man, waking.



copyright 1997 - Donald P James Jr

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Jesus in the Snow

-
Image
This picture hung on the side of my parents refrigerator when I was a child.  I was always intrigued by the black and white blotches which did not seem to form anything recognizable.  One day I asked my mother about the photograph.  She said it was the face of Jesus and that if I looked closely I could see Him. I could not for the life of me see our Lord in the meaningless menagerie of spots.  I remember standing at the side of the refrigerator staring at the picture as it hung there almost taunting me. One day, in my teen years, when I wasn't really trying to see the face in the black and white blotches anymore, I saw Him.  Maybe I needed to see the face more, at that age, when I was on the threshold of adulthood then when I was a child.  Now, as the years have passed, I find it difficult not to see Him in the patterns of melting snow on the mountainside. ~ I have a question for you.  When you look at the patterns of melting snow, do yo...
Read more

Churches, Barns and Coffee Tables

-
Image
And while some were talking about the temple,  that it was adorned with beautiful stones and votive gifts,  He said, Luke 21:5 Beautiful stones, gifts offered as sacrifice to a God who longs for our hearts. Wealth and pious ideals, starving the children so loved, this elaborate vessel of outer expression attempts to imprison the spirit. Man's creativity, intricate carvings meant to impress the one who created mountains, oceans and forests. We are men awed by material things, vases of gold, altars chiseled by the finest sculptors and tapestries woven of imported cloth. All this is meant to fade to a time when one stone is no longer set upon another. Remind us Lord that the new covenant is of the spirit, that the temple is this body of flesh and blood. Remind us that the Father desires our souls, the essence of our love, more so than buildings crafted by our hands. Would the homeless messiah rest His head in any of these castle...
Read more

A Bundle of Some Importance

-
Image
"Rachel, wait up!" She glanced over her shoulder as she cut down the narrow alley between two low slung buildings.  Caleb, a boy who did odd jobs for her father, was running after her, with the vibrant energy of an eight year old.  She had no interest in picking up her pace.  Her twelve year old arms carried a bundle of some importance.  The last thing she wanted to do, was drop it. "Where are you off to?" He said upon catching up. "I have a chore to perform, Caleb.  And may I ask if your mother knows that you are out in the street at this hour." "Your father asked me to run an errand.  The streets are very crowded." "Exactly," Rachel replied. "He's very busy.  The main streets are full of people.  You need to be careful, Caleb, you could be trampled. "Is that why you've slipped between buildings?  Are you trying to keep from being trampled?" Up ahead the alley opened.  There was a cluster of men, a few women, a h...
Read more

Simon the Pharisee (Luke 7:36-50)

-
Image
So he was the talk of the dusty streets.  Many had come to listen to this man of little education, a carpenter by trade.  I have to admit though, the things he has said must have come from God.  His words do not ridicule or chastise, as most of our laws.  His words are compassionate and the people, we take upon ourselves to lead spiritually, flock to him. I saw him out in the fields, a few days ago, this man who does not dress like any of the temple leaders.  He holds himself with authority, wearing garments of the poor.  His followers claim he is more than just a man.  They say they have witnessed miracles.  Demons have been ripped free from tormented souls.  A paralytic has been raised to his feet and given the power to walk and dance. I realize these claims may be exaggerations.  Still, I find myself, as do the others of my sect, drawn into the crowd with a desire to listen to his voice. So when master Simon extended the in...
Read more

The Voice in the Wilderness

-
Image
I am baptizing you with water, for repentance, but the one coming after me is mightier than I. I am not worthy to carry his sandals. Matthew 3:11 Saint John the Holy Glorious Prophet, Baptist, Forerunner - Menologion of Basile II There is a voice shouting out a song of repentance. Even vipers will gather in his shade. He sings to you of water, and the need of your spirit to turn back. He humbles himself, reminding some that there is one greater, still to walk this desert, in whose sandals he could never tread. There is a voice filling the wilderness with lyrics. The sheep come to have water poured over, the goats brood in their pompousness, turning farther from God. copyright 2025 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author https://www.goodreads.com
Read more

Threshing Floor

-
Image
His winnowing fan in hand, he will clear the threshing floor Matthew 3:12 Wheat and the chaff, divided, those who know the infant and the son crucified are gathered to the divine. Those too proud for tears will be given to the flames. His winnowing fan divides what has bore fruit and what has not. Chaff is cast away, meant to stoke the flame, while blessed are those, who know the name of the thresher. copyright 2025 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author https://www.goodreads.com
Read more

Ode to Joy

-
Image
It's a long journey, setting out for the purpose of being counted. Brought together by an angel, emissary of 'I Am', and the donkey is gentle. How many miles on tired legs? The woman bears new life, kicking in her womb. The man takes on the responsibly, of teaching God about Himself. They know little of the days ahead, call it trust, call it faith. Frustration will tighten its grip when the inns are full and labor pains strike. But the journey is long. Perhaps songs are sung among a caravan. Excitement might be added to each step, by a song of Exodus. Centuries beyond Moses, travelers no longer in chains, Bethlehem looms, not Babylon, and the song speaks not of a desert, but of salvation. copyright 2025 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author
Read more

Young Woman Praying

-
Image
The poem below was inspired by this painting. May God bless you with His mercies and answer your prayers Young Woman Praying in Church - Jules Breton She prays, speaking words which come from her heart. Her words are simple. There is no elegance, just worship. She prays. Her words are a whisper. Her sonnet, sweet and without pride, heard only by He who bends His ear. She prays, and Jesus listens. Her words have a melody, sung by her soul, cherished by the Lord. copyright 2026 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author https://www.goodreads.com
Read more

Calling Levi

-
Image
The Calling of Saint Matthew - James Tissot I had returned from a laboring journey.  Activity in the small fishing village, I called home, was full of excitement.  I asked a neighbor about the manifestations during my absence.  He seemed surprised by my query. "Have you not heard?" He began. "A teacher has come among us.  No one is sure from where he came.  It is said that he performed a miracle, maybe more.  He was down by the shore the other day.  He spoke with Simon and Andrew, and the two sons of Zebedee.  Seems he seeks men who make their trade in the sea, but then, just this morning, he was talking to that vile tax collector." "Levi?" I asked, knowing my neighbor could mean no one else.  Then, I followed my first question with another, "And does that explain the zeal of the townsfolk?" "Levi is having a gathering tonight, at his house.  All are invited, but you know the pious will stay clear." "Perhaps not," I countered....
Read more

The Annunciation

-
Image
The Annunciation - Carl Heinrich Bloch Did it begin as a light, where no brightness should have been? The darkness still reigned. The people still walk in shadows. And the light spoke, words some have longed to hear. "How can this be?" The question of a child. God has chosen. The wait has been long. The garden is a memory, distant. The wilderness has never faded. Highly favored daughter, ancestor of David, The line of kings intersects at the birth. Did it begin as a light, in the corner where a shadow dominated? The darkness has no choice but submission to the one promised. copyright 2025 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author https://www.goodreads.com
Read more