In all that is the endless fountain of life,
and “deep calls out to deep”
and all that is living -finds its truest purpose
to steal away to stillness …
~kindness sister Krissy
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Even in all this
words are still worth the page
or tears which ever may fall first
~kindness sister Krissy
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Dear kindness I kinda get the feeling that,
Mama Earth wanted all the kids to go inside,
don’t come back until we all know how to be kind
and show compassion to one another~ Kindness sister Krissy
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Someday we will look back and say, Mama Earth taught us, some things and made us better humans.
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Dear kindness on the days when I can’t seem to function like a normal adult, i’m happy to put myself back to bed and try again in the morning
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And just like that I’d missed another day arriving far away from my knowing. I was so busy, doing nothing, so busy running into myself, turning around in dog tails, wagging in place. Panting, with my ear touching the cold floor, that held me down for a little while. Tile, black chalked lines, this is the memorial for leisure. Nowadays, when the sun is out and I’m shut in. When the wind desires to pick me up and take me for a spin. I won’t say no,
this is the memorial… I should have said yes.
Photo by Artem Beliaikin on Pexels.com kindness sister Krissy
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Dear God seems like the whole world’s- up and went to the hospital..
and those that are alone, with cellphones and text -still perplexed
“dismayed afraid of the cough “‘
a spiff, or a wrong whistle
You made the flea and the ocean’
the spec of moon dust and the hurricane
paired each sky with its’ own perfected rainbow
and so as we stay in the boat
it might be 40 days and 40 nights
it might be the wilderness or red sea
but God send
back the dove – or the sparrow
with green olive branches
in her beak,
I still believe
you watch over me…
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Photo by Rayn L on Pexels.com Here on this altar, with our arms out stretched
towards the temple of hope
God you are that temple
Here on this altar…
kindness sister Krissy
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There is a surrender under pain.
It flows gently like water.
From the cusp of shoulders to the bed of ruddy nails.
Things -forgotten. Things we left unsaid.
Made in sparkling white folds and deep dark trimmings.
Its’ grace of the morning.
Grace that comes soflty and calling,
grace that leads me home
kindness sister Krissy
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There may be moments when God catches us before our knees break or lock in place. Three inches before the floor,
where we never hit the floor- cold,
but there will be moments, even small lifetimes, cast-iron skillet livings, hard as you can’t stand to stand
the un-ruling heat of the flame. burning blankets, and leaves, just to stay.
taste the bitters, fine smothered herbs in red
Hold out our arms as Job,
pray so hard like Jesus ,
sweat and tears percolate
great drops of blood
of love,
and love in the making
earth quaking
sky pulls up, her splendor
to uncover,
the question what’s love made of?
empty cross nails, impale the fragile spirit
come away from bone
Hold love, wrap love, with shadows in the darkness, “fear no evil”- love
ghost giving, un forsaken,
surrendered- love
kindness sister Krissy
Krissy Mosley Ministries 