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Krissy Mosley Ministries

  • Hope On My Street: Collaboration with PrayerPower4Today

    April 2nd, 2020

    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.

    Photo by Lynnelle Richardson on Pexels.com

    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/

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