Tag Archives: Nature

Thunder Storms

Loud sounds in the skies above.
Clouds darken the ground below.
No shadow can hide or be shown.

Flashes of light streak about.
Mice and moles scurry underground.
Winds blow, no one now is safe.

Water falls and floods arise.
The storm is here and also there.
Stay as it may, but for a while.

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Saskatoon

Sunny summers, we love the heat,
And winters cold, we now in defeat.
Springs and autumns are wet with snow.
Kicking and screaming kids never board;
Always something, fun events they can do.
Tis Saskatoon, city of bridges, ya know.
On the east, as far as the eye sees;
On the west too, too flat is the land.
Never a dull day, here in Saskatoon.


Trees by the River

Heaven in like…

Early in spring the Gardener plants a tree by the river. He promises the tree growth. The tree drinks the water from the stream, eats the nutrients in the soil, absorbs the rays from the sun and breathes in the air.

Later in the season the Gardner plants more trees. Throughout the summer more are planted by the same river.

At the end of the year the Gardner examines the trees, from the most recent to the first.

They all grew to be the same height with the same amount of foliage. The first tree asks the Gardener, “Shouldn’t I have grown more than the ones you planted last month?”

The Gardner responds, “Friend, you grow into a beautiful tree. What is it to you how tall I allowed the others to grow? Can’t I do with that which is mine as i choose?”

This is from a sermon illustration I used for my sermon based on Matthew 20:1-16.


Groundhog Day

The canopy above covers the ground.
A sweeping current washes dreams around.
He peeks his head up and hears the sound.

Will his shadow be on the ground?
Or will flowers early bloom all around?
And the birds migrate with their sound?

This day is his, underground
Above it too, and also all around.
Not late, this year, spring is sound.


From the Sky

Rain, rain
Hydroplane
Comin’ down fast
It cannot drain

Hail, hail
Some in pail
Fillin’ up fast
Get hit and fail

Snow, snow
Zero below
Hittin’ ditch fast
Next time we know

I wrote this poem several days ago for fun. Not everything in life needs to be serious, thus you’ll find some silliness on this blog once in a while.


We the Forest

Trees growing by rivers of past mistakes.
Their roots not deep and winds too strong.
Here Chaos reigns, unleashing acidic pains.

The Forester now has come to our aid.
Rooted in Him, His strength our faith.
Now new life reigns, bestowing eternal gains.


Our Compassion

Forests that burn, limbs will turn:
Their ashes tell their tale.
Charcoal on white, green in sight:
Their ashes tell their tale.

Children do cry, mouths too dry:
Their ashes tell their tale.
With eyes so bright, greed not right:
Their ashes tell their tale.

Branches we mend, seeds to lend:
Their scars tell their tale.
Beauty from dust, green or rust:
Their scars tell their tale.

Hunger in need, tales we read:
Their scars tell their tale.
Smiles no more, open the door:
Their scars tell their tale.

Suff’ring all ’round, Christ is sound:
Compassion is our tale.
Fears subdued, joys renewed:
Compassion is our tale.

[This poem was written as a class assignment several years ago as a response a friend’s art exhibit.]