The Holding

Not thought

Thinking caught

Gravitating erasing

Supercedes

Wake of day

Culminating facing

Naught to find

Naught to hide

Naught to talk

Quickly

All is well

As with sell
Closure completes

Sickly

Some may seek

Of the creek

Slowly passing

Waters

Find the dam

Stops the slam

Of evident algae

Alters

Growth of green

As is seen

Comes from solemn

Retriever

Makes the day

Of passed away

Ever heavy

And sweeter

Falter

Lightning flashes

Courses quick

Like the sun

Undone

Unbound unblinded

Takes hold and presses on

The arrival of wisdom

Tunneling through

Convalescence concedes to

The healing stand

As clarity wipes away fog

There is no source known

Save His own

Hanging on that tree

Conveyance quickening

The salvation

To any

That receive

Transition

Lock memory sensory fade

Ignited by Holy transmission

Motor floats the day away

Exacting piston acrostic

Here hides the solace

Of grace looming

Perniciously bound till

Evident release

Waking traces

Of evil day dwellers

Never encounter

The Healed

Health is sought

On sacred ground

Lasting beyond

Day's duration

Trial

Dismay of day

Hedges on

Point of order

Foiled

Faltered course

Creasing crest

Less than

Ever heavy

Hope explodes

Hinges on

Heightened hand

Of levity

To place the day

In strict reform

And facilitate

Brevity

October Of

Saw autumn turn

Dark windows and slanted reds

Poured golds in the greens

Of Rock Creek but reminded me

Of windows of Mantua

Dark Bangs and many

Ages ago

Blue oceans riding

Hiding sanctity

And lack thereof

Of pinnacle missed

And attained

And forgotten

And found

SURE

Husband's smile on the face

Of infant sown display of grace

Marked return the path now trod

Everyday hand of GOD

Simple acts evidence true

Affecting thoughts returning to

Family needs that never fade

Even in the slice of blade

Help does come from the Body

Of Christ to slough the lepers hotly

Marked disgrace and heal the ill

Ever about the seeker's will

Always with Jehovah Jireh, never without

Thank you Father

Land of the Free Home of the Brave

darkness scattered edges round

husk of corn turning brown

lightness fades from force of day

that hinders on the luck of play

here is holding hiding fast

the edges round the darkest glass

and open ended future folds

culminates in wisps of hold

of demons hands that grasp to choke

the askers heart of bloated broke

the list of trophies satan waves

still too short to scare the Brave