The Finding

Eyes searching

Soul reaching

Hands open

Mind quiet

Heart broken

Listening to friends

Reading, studying books

Sensing spirit

Discerning truth

Stilling soul

Tasting peace

Without answers

Promise

Without knowledge

Amazing faith

Moving mountains

Receiving angels

In the very hour

An open conduit

To home

Loving Me

(about 1997)

Remember
It was hard to love me in high school
I had so many quirks
so many pretensions
questions

The pieces of my puzzle
only began to drop
so I could place them
and I cried
like the baby
I was.
I was . . . hard to love
in high school.

Realize
It is hard to love me now
I still have quirks
and less pretensions
more questions

More pieces of my puzzle
are dropped
and daily I place them.
The Lord
hears how
it is.
It is . . . hard to love me
now.

Believe
You can always love me,
see through my quirks,
melt my pretensions,
answer my questions;

Help me place
the dropped pieces
of my puzzle.
And let me cry
on your shoulder,
and look up to wipe
your tears.
The Lord
will show us
you can.
I can . . . always love you
too.

The Beginning and the End

A Winter's Day by: Kori Mitchell


The beginning
probably never was . . .
more like a circle,
shaped by the Master,
crafted in His name.
But that's how I see the start--
As a circle of friends
who opened a window
when I had almost
closed a door.
I did not deserve
the gifts you poured
upon me.
But they have been
recieved
in secret thanks.
You gave me shade
under your pointed leaves
smelling of the mountians
at Heaven's feet.
I am only a pine cone
and I see your branches
touching the sun.
That's where I came from,
and that's where I want to be.
but I must grow there . . .
and you must stay standing tall
so when the storms come,
I will not be washed away
except to meet your tender roots.
And I'll feel my own soul
begin to hold and grasp
the Master of
The Beginning and the End.

A Year of Grief

(about 2004-- written about a year after the death of my brother-in-law, Kip. In his memory...)

Shocked
Something's wrong
I ask what? Why?
The answer quick
and soft.
A trial of faith
Many lessons to learn
Blessings to come
In answer to prayers
"Everything will be okay,"
the Comforter comes.

Helpless
Brothers in tears
No heartbeat,
no breath.
I lied to his mother
unknowingly.

Gratitude
If it comes to death
They were prepared.
His family will be fine.
A miracle and
a blessing.

Denial
It won't come to death
a quiet car ride
The helicopter took him.
Remember
The Spirit said
everything will be okay?

Numb
a lifeless body
on a table
Looking like him
But he is not there
Everyone is crying
I can't cry
Just keep me busy.

Angry
I feel nothing
He can't be gone.
What about her
and their children?

Sorrow;
things I would have said
things I never said
a relationship
I cared about,
was working on.

Faith
Alone in my room
I finally tell him
and God
my regrets, feelings.
I ask why?
I feel a part
of his heart,
his love
rest upon me.
There is work to do.
Somehow I understand.

Empathy
I take that part
of his heart
I try to be there,
listen, understand.
Pray to know
how to help,
when to be there.

Blessed
I worry about giving birth.
I hear his voice
in my mind. Srtange;
telling me
it will go well.
This spirit will come,
not to worry.

Inadequate
She is lonely
I cannot replace him
I cannot take the pain
I don't want to hurt,
don't know what
to do or say.

Hope
I can listen
Be there
She is strong
and has the Lord.
I cannot,
but He can
because He loves us
He suffered,
descended below.
He lives.
The promises are sure.

Reconciled
I miss him.
I will always
feel the ache
in this life.
I will cry silently
in my sleep sometimes
or sob uncontrollably
in public.
The way I see things
will never be the same.
I will not turn away
from pictures, memories,
situations
that will make
all these emotions
come flooding back.
This is pain
and part of life.
And it is mine.

Now
I lift my prayers
to heaven
to know of Christ
and His gospel,
the love unbelievable
and real.

Peace.

My Sacred Grove

(2009)

I do not have a sacred grove,
there's children all around,
so when I kneel they pull my shirt
to get me to look down.

So young they do not understand
my heart has many needs;
to know just how to care for them,
these tiny little seeds.

To face my trials, real and rough,
to feel my Savior's love,
so I will know we'll be alright,
that there is help above.

We all go 'round here barefoot,
the chaos seems to reign
as tiny mouths just must be fed
and problems solved 'til I am drained.

To Moses said the Lord: "remove your shoes...
you stand on sacred ground."
That's why I go 'round barefoot--
there's children all around.

My home's my only sacred grove
for I cannot retreat
and leave these small ones to themselves,
their curiosity and bare feet.

So from my heart I pray, I cry
will God please understand?
I need him more now than ever--
will He please take  my hand?

And sanctify this time to me;
this season I must give
to little ones and little else,
these days are mine to live.

This is my work, my one great work,
this family I love,
so for now this home, this time
becomes my sacred grove.

This home is not a quiet place
except at quiet  hour,
and that's if things work out just right,
if attitudes aren't sour.

No sweet birds sing, or if they do,
they're difficult to hear
for arguments and whining tones
are ringing in my ear,

and if I try to be alone,
even on the pot,
the doorknob turns, and little eyes
tell me that I'm not!

Just let me know, my loving Lord,
my efforts are enough.
For what I actually accomplish
feels like little stuff.

I'm never all I'd like to be,
I barely can survive.
And most days I'd be glad
to get off work at five.

So let me know that if by chance
I ever get to be
alone with Thee on bended knee
you'll still be near to me.

Though I have failed in every way
to show to Thee my love,
because of what I do each day,
I've found this sacred grove.

I need a sacred grove.
Make my life . . .
a sacred grove.

Precious Mother, Blessed Name

(about 2004)

When upon returning home
I open the door; a presence felt
perhaps the smells of home it is
telling someone waits inside
welcoming a weary heart
bruised and torn by outside world.

I dare not imagine returning home
and opening door to empty rooms,
to faceless walls, a musty smell;
knowing I am all alone,
the wound torn deeper, worse because
here no refuge from cruel world.

If mother with her job to work,
planes to catch, degrees to earn,
left our home to find herself
to stop from being home all day
feeling useless; did she know
her sacrifice made house a home?

Quiet moments, calm repose,
maid-like duties, household chores.
Dinner's on, babe's asleep
a haven for the souls she keeps.
Arriving home, her family feels
a sense of comfort, stability.

A part of mothers own domain:
home can be a comforting word.
She lost herself; a gift to give,
belonging, to her family.
It's her presence awaits us there,
precious mother, blessed name.

Grace

( about 2002)

I still don't understand
what happened
my heart broke
I lost all control
I gave myself over
to the nothingness
that lay ahead
I couldn't even
pick up the pieces
the last thing I did
was take the first step
as your voice
told me to do
and I lost
everything
dreams
tears
myself

I wake up every day
to a beautiful place
you built
I'm held in the arms
of love
you provided
on the way here
I experienced
each moment
as you built
a new me
I have
everything
my dreams
more tears
myself
I still don't understand
what happened.

To the Weary

(about 1996)

Whenever this
terrible lack of faith
comes upon you
please wake up.

Don't allow your senses
to turn inward.
Reach out,
sharing qualities
divinely placed within you
to be good;
full of the fruits
of the Spirit.

Don't question
if better
is found elsewhere;

is not this dream,
this hope, this faith,
enough to die,
and live for?

Whatever it takes,
if you give Him the sword,
the battle can be fought
on His grounds,
where no enemy
can prevail.

Fear no evil . . .
for no shadow
may intercept His light.
No shadow but your own
fear, and
terrible lack of faith!

Steps

(about 1994)

Your little child
growing up so fast
held her tiny hand one day
'round your finger
and took one step
at a time;
trying to make it--
a long distance to her
such a short distance
to you,
back to you,
her hand in yours.
Sometimes trying
to make it all
in one single bound.

The journey still goes on,
for life is much the same.
I must take it one step
at at time,
trusting that
if I keep my eye
single to You
if I should fall,
Thy loving hand
will catch and lift me.

With Thy hand to guide me,
each step I will take,
for in one single bound,
who would ever learn
to walk?

My eyes are on Thee;
I feel Thy smile
and Thy warm embrace
already.
Happy taking each step
in turn.
Learning
to walk.
Growing;
my hand in Yours.

God's Letter

(about 1992)

My dear child,
please try to see it my way,
for I can see much farther
than your eyes,
much farther
than the depths of  your heart
reach.
My love reaches
into the eternities.
Yes,
I know
some days are cold.
The storm, ever so dark
raging all around.
And my child,
this is why you cannot see
but fear not,
find comfort in me,
look to me,
and I promise
you will be happy.
You will find and live happiness.
You will feel joy so strong,
and love all around
forever and a day.
For I know
what your dreams are,
all I have promised you.
Tomorrow you will be troubled
no more. You will look back,
and know that the days before
this day
were there to teach you,
and you grew,
you learned.
You will have your dream,
never knowing pain again.
I promise. And
I love you.

Always There

(about 1994)

My heart is free now.
I can see blue sky.
The storm-clouds cleared away,
the warm sun penetrating my soul.
I can see the land forever
and the mountains towering high.
I can feel my Father's hand leading me.

Broken out of sorrow,
the darkness gone away,
for tonight a star is shining,
the light is healing me.
And I know there's hope forever;
tomorrow starts the climb
until I reach the heavens up on high.

Like a candle in the darkness,
a lighthouse on the sea,
the sunshine in the morning,
Christ is leading me

and I will follow,
so when storm-clouds come again
a ray of sunshine will come through
and warm my troubled soul.

And He is with me
in a room of darkness,
on a stormy sea,
or on a cloudy morning
Christ is always there,
leading me.

The Gift

(about 2000)

Three summers ago
I was given a gift.
I was so young then,
so excited . . .
I ripped it open
expecting . . .
and what I held,
a block of clay.

Ideas . . .
how to shape it,
what I would make it . . .
then . . .
The Lord unveiled
His thoughts to me,
how I should shape,
what it could be.
I shaped as He said
and on command
my precious gift--
back to His hand.

Two summers ago
I was given a gift,
still very young,
wide-eyed . . .
I slowly let the ribbons give,
wondering . . .
and what I held
that block of clay
was in a shape
I recognized.

And like before
the Lord unveiled
His thoughts to me
how I should shape,
what it could be.
I shaped as He said
and on command
my precious gift--
back to His hand.

Last summer
I was given a gift
a little older,
changing . . .
with special care,
and perfect faith
I unwrapped it
with my gentlest touch.
Trusting . . .
and what I held
was a picture instead
of what had been shaped . . .
with a flowered frame.

But in time
I heard the Lord
that all that was mine
was all in my heart
and once again
at His command
my precious gift--
back to His hand.

This summer
I am given a gift
as old as I've been,
preparing . . .
this time it comes
without a wrap,
no covering,
no pretenses . . .
I look inside,
the looking glass
with the flowered frame,
and see for the first time
myself
as part of the shape
we carved
from that long-ago
block of clay.

It looks familiar
is all I can think,
and on the horizon
I hear Him again..
On His command
my precious gift--
back to His hand.

Next summer will come
with another gift.
Older,
wiser . . .
I'll receive it
with my open heart
and listen
to my Lord
and do all I can.
I know I'll need
His loving hands.