Dear kindness, the sun went on shinning like it was supposed to. The winds blew softly. The trees may be bare but the grass is slowly, turning green.
I choose to believe my faith is made by my words,
My works are made in faith,
I believe with all of you
this is the “good fight of faith”
In the end, We Win!
kindness sister Krissy
I know I’m nothing like Jesus and those who would be crucified
the smell of fear bombards across county lines
Salvation in the air, in these troubled times,
coming to the creator,
earnest pining cry, budding from its curdled shell
thrown upon ourselves, for the saving ourselves
to learn the mysteries of a fallen cross, in between two thieves
athirst, bursting, piercing in his side
humanity comes alive, in the darkness
a pinch of glory
communion wafers, paper thin,
and waters in the blood
nobody but nobody can carry this cross
alone.
kindness sis Krissy
Dear kindness, I feel there’s so much to say. It seems like the world has swallowed a nightmare pill. Somewhere between earth and mars -we are here. Are we ready to wake up?
I needed to run and write, like my life depends upon it. Only because I believe my life has wrapped itself around my faith.
These are the moments, we use our darkness to pursue light. Running to catch fire. Gently light the wings of the butterfly, running to carry tear drops in teacups. Running…
Moments of the darkness,
“We wear the mask” it shades our fears but not our eyes
unforgotten missions, weeping warriors,
our sighs’ our pleas,
our hearts open, God, let it be…
“Nevertheless, not my will, but thine”
“surrendered battles, veils and temples, vinegar, and thorns
to quench a thirst,
unrequited love
souls to save,
a place called home, so let it be.
running, where the light turns,
running around in circles,
running with the wind upon our backs
please don’t look back, ” I saw a new heaven”
” I saw a new earth”
kindness sis,Krissy
(Home Photos of my indoor garden)
Dear Kindness, starting a garden without a green thumb is overwhelming. I felt like nothing would grow. After 4 weeks, I dropped the entire box of seedlings. I almost cried. Okay I did. I sat there in dirt for a moment.
Dirt seemed to fly every which way. I swept my little pods and placed them in the box.
Saddened by my butter-fingers. No one to blame but me. I’m always dropping something or knocking something over. I started praying, humming a little ditty in my spirit.
Praying over my house, over my plants, over my neighbors, over this pandemic and everything in between.
Praying and cleaning as usually. I went to bed and got up the next morning to my surprise things are growing.
Now, don’t ask me, what’s what? At this point. I’m overjoyed!
I just have to keep going and let nature run its course.
Plants are resilient little things, and so are we.
your Kindness sister, Krissy
If ever there was such such a thing as Virtual Prayers -Hugs. This is the place to be! https://praypower4today.wordpress.com/ These ladies have become my prayer friends across the internet: There’s Sue giving out her wisdom, Auntie Ruth, delivering virtual booster shots of goodness, might I add, every now and then “a virtual punch in the arm.” Knocking out those bad vibes.
Then there’s Lori, she’s my writing sister, even though we’ve never physically met. I’ve been touched by her soul. Felt the warmth of her being, seen goodness flow from page to page. I’ve been brought back to life with her words. ( go on over – you won’t be disappointed ) Tell them, the kindness sister sent ya! https://praypower4today.wordpress.com/
Thanks Aunt Ruth for the 411 connect on this one. Lori and I share a love for poetry.
I think it’s only fitting for National Poetry Month.
Hope inside the soul has way of living in perilous times. Just when I think I’ve hit my lowest point. Or the bottom breaks from underneath me. There is hope stirring. Even on my street. Where the Bodega has closed, the young boy survived the latest shooting, at the church on 21 street. Recently he came to give his life back to God.
We taste hope just as the first lizard of the morning sticks out her tongue
You’d not notice.
It takes, as they say, an eye.
to catch the beauty of the blue-winged dragonfly
Still, spring cannot be contained;
it bursts into bud: daffodils nodding,
blonde and careless, trees shaking down
three-doors down, in a small caddis, vagrant-vacant lot dripping with hunger
petals, unseasonal flurries. New grass
pokes shyly from the lawn, and smells,
cut, just as it did last summer.
Hope has no fairy tales with rewarding endings
We are not the same, shaken
as only the most microscopic
menaces can make us. Yet.
Hopes lives in the lives of shattered things
Nothing can impede the rush to Easter.
The stone rolls away, light as an egg.
destined for rapture, of better things
What lies inside is awaiting us.
poetry by Lori Strawn, (Lori’s words are Italic, mine are bold)
your Kindness sister Krissy, https://praypower4today.wordpress.com/
Dear Kindness, I had the best day, emailing friends…
kindness sister Krissy
Dear Kindness, I’ve always lived facing something if it wasn’t, one thing it was ten other things. A great man once said “you must be able to weep and still be counted as warriors.”
That’s how I’ve been feeling as of late. I feel like sobbing the night away. I feel uncertainty like muddy clouds – my tiny raindrops, are for the angels to carry.
Sometimes when things get to heavy the human body has ways of discarding what it no longer needs. In the words of the good book. I’m paraphrasing, “weeping may endure for one night, but joy must come” joy will come, and we shall have joy after while”
Somehow, after that,
I rise up, with a little more grit,
I rise with a little more strength,
I rise with a little more getting up,
that everything is going to work out,
just fine.
kindness sister Krissy
I came here because the the world is always changing. Sometimes I am too.
Yet and still…
I believe human kindness is a way of putting our arms around the world with compassion in raw un-edited truth that changes the way we write poetry. Kindness, I believe is a moral lifestyle. I’m just trying to do my part in making the world a better place.
I believe kindness-poetry can be felt- chirping off the page. Even now, there’s this gentle nudge that lets’ me know, I’m not alone. That’s kindness.
I believe in kind words that can grab you from the edge of defeat, place you in the center of everything and watch your spirit rise. In the words of Alice Walker, “I think it pisses God off if you walk by the color purple in a field somewhere and don’t notice it.”
That’s kindness too.
I believe kind-poetry in this kind-way lift voices out of ghost towns, and ghettos, and prisons- and makes our human experience- transform as to what it has been into visions of hope, and growth and strengthen our mere existence from invisible, margins of living and dying but we all could use kindness as a way of loving ourselves and each other. We could all use human kindness to rebuild extraordinary lives from what has been,
to what human kindness, still must be.
your kindness sister Krissy
On days like this, where it seems my hope is running low,
like fuel in a tank
with no places to go,
cinder blocks, in prison cells start to blow
working out the kinks down in my soul
Hope is for the featherless
no tethering ring pole,
sowing seeds of hope
germinating little
pods of things unseen
Hope for the family
every sister, every brother
every cousin, every mother
Hope for the growing up
Hope for the growing old
Hope springing out like lavender – wonders to unfold
Hope ripples out like waterfalls reaching into soul,
grander church bells, she even sings her chimes
Spring in the air,
Spring is in the air, its’ time!
your Kindness sister Krissy
Krissy Mosley Ministries 