And what, you…
Grateful… ~ Bette A. Stevens, Maine author/illustrator http://www.4writersandreaders.com
Posts tagged ‘Sacred Touches Blog’
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1059. Wear gratitude like a cloak and it will feed every corner of your life. ~Rumi
Grateful! ~ Bette A. Stevens, http://www.4writersandreaders.com
The Gift
Be still, my soul, and steadfast.
Earth and heaven both are still watching
though time is draining from the clock
and your walk, that was confident and quick,
has become slow.
So, be slow if you must, but let
the heart still play its true part.
Love still as once you loved, deeply
and without patience. Let God and the world
know you are grateful.
That the gift has been given.
~Mary Oliver
Sing to the Lord with grateful praise; make music to our God on the harp. ~Psalm 147:7 ✝
1034. Science cannot solve the ultimate mystery of nature. And that is because, in the last analysis, we ourselves are a part of mystery. ~Max Planck
The wonder of it all! ~ Bette A. Stevens
Nature looks dead in winter because her life is gathered into her heart. She withers the plant down to the root that she may grow it up again fairer and stronger. She calls her family together within her inmost home to prepare them for being scattered abroad upon the face of the earth. ~Hugh Macmillan
When the ages of ice came
And sealed the Earth inside
An endless coma of cold,
The heart of the Earth held hope,
Storing fragments of memory,
Ready for the return of the sun.
Let us then salute the silence
And certainty of mountains:
Their sublime stillness,
Their dream-filled hearts.
The wonder of a garden
Trusting the first warmth of spring
Until its black infinity of cells
Becomes charged with dream;
Then the silent, slow nurture
Of the seed’s self, coaxing it
To trust the act of death.
The humility of the Earth
That transfigures…
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853. Nature is infinitely creative. It is always producing the possibility of new beginnings. ~Marianne Williamson
The wonder of it all! ~ Bette A. Stevens
The Law of Divine Compensation posits that this is a self-organizing and self-correcting universe: the embryo becomes a baby, the bud becomes a blossom, the acorn becomes an oak tree. Clearly, there is some invisible force that is moving every aspect of reality to its next best expression. ~Marianne Williamson
Nature inspires my everything. She inspires my solitude, and my writing and my art. She lifts me upon her welcoming wings and soars me through the sky of possibilities. She colors my day, brightens my soul, and calms my nights. She is fierce and beautiful, strong and delicate — an unrelenting Queen so generous of advice and never weary of new beginnings. In spring a colorful maiden, in winter a wise old lady, in autumn a looking-glass to my falling-leaf self, and summer a warm blossomed benefactor, comrade to the sun. A constant companion — sometimes indifferent, sometimes nuzzling me…
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410. The butterfly is a flying flower, the flower a tethered butterfly. ~Ponce Denis Ècouchard Lebrun
Thanks, Sacred Touches, for this Amazing Monarch post! ~ Bette
Black atennas twitch
as the caterpillar
strips the last green leaf
from the naked milkweed.
Striped flesh shed,
the green skin below
becomes a jade pendant
rimmed in gold,
hung by a black thread.
Nature, that green magician,
arranges a slight of hand.
The fat worm in a striped suit
slides into a chrysalis
naps for a fortnight
wakes,
draped in orange,
ready to dance.
~Tere Sievers
He changes times and seasons; he deposes kings and raises up others. He gives wisdom to the wise and knowledge to the discerning. Daniel 2:21 ✝
Thank you, Lord Jesus, that you save, you heal, you restore, and you reveal Your Father’s heart to us! You have captured me with grace and I’m caught in Your infinite embrace! Like Saint Hildegard Lord, may I too be a feather on your holy breath and spread, like seeds, the gospel abroad.
Poem first posted at:…
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381. Every artist dips his brush in his own soul, and paints his own nature into his pictures. ~Henry Ward Beecher
Painting & Poetry… Perfect! ~ Bette A. Stevens
Painting is poetry
that is seen rather than felt,
and poetry is painting
that is felt rather than seen.
~Leonardo da Vinci
COLORS OF MY BRUSH
Blue for the eyes that loved my calm sky,
green for the soft grass we slept on,
white for the lilies we picked,
yellow for small daises,
purple for sunsets,
red for wild lips,
pink for skin,
rose for
you.
~by Andrew Crisci
Creativity is a phenomenon whereby something new and valuable is created. And no matter whether it be by painting, sculpture, architecture, music, writing (poetry, prose, drama), performing arts (theater or dance), film making, photography, or printmaking, the maker of whatever inspired the creative endeavor, has felt, experienced, and/or seen things so moving that the urge to give life to artistic expressions has erupted in his/her very soul. Why? Because inherent in each of our souls is Yahweh’s creative abilities since we are…
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377. Literature and butterflies are the two sweetest passions known to man. ~Vladimir Nabokov
Butterflies teach not only teach lessons, they capture our hearts. ~ Bette A. Stevens
Beautiful and graceful, varied and enchanting, small but approachable,
butterflies lead to the sunny side of life.
And everyone deserves a little sunshine.
~Jeffrey Glassberg
A butterfly lights beside us like a sunbeam
and for a brief moment, its glory and beauty
belong to our world.
But then it flies again,
And though we wish it could have stayed…
We feel lucky to have seen it at all.
~Author Unknown
“Just living is not enough,” said the butterfly, “one must have sunshine, freedom and a little flower.” ~Hans Christian Anderson
Ascribe to the Lord the glory due his name; bring an offering and come before him. Worship the Lord in the splendor of his holiness. ~1 Chronicles 16:29 ✝
Thank you, Lord Jesus, that you save, you heal, you restore, and you reveal Your Father’s heart to us! You have captured me with grace and I’m caught in Your infinite…
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367. Every creator painfully experiences the chasm between his inner vision and its ultimate expression. ~Isaac Bashevis Singer
Wonderful! Must share with my writer friends… Thanks, Natalie!
Dear “Watcher:”
To my “editor within” or
“watcher” if you prefer,
why, I ask,
have you gotten so out of hand?
Aggravation I must
in some way decree
For you let me start writing
with wild delight,
but then stop me just when
I feel I’ve taken flight.
So now of you I find,
I simply must demand:
Let me ramble with pen
and be as creative as I dare.
Once the words are on my paper,
then with you I’ll freely share.
But for now just let me write
my ideas all the way through
And afterwards we’ll go over them
and I’ll let you have your say.
One thought might help you
yield to my request…
remember you only correct for me,
but I don’t write just for you.
~Virginia Cook
For I am full of words, and the spirit within me compels me… ~Job 32:18 ✝
Thank you…
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198. Autumn is the dim shadow that clusters about the sweet precious things that God created in the realm of nature. ~Northern Advocate
A perfect pairing! ~ Bette A. Stevens http://www.4writersandreaders.com
Related articles
- I love Autumn – My favorite Season See (michellemarieantellg.wordpress.com)
- Autumn Boat (aditixpictures.wordpress.com)
- Autumn Thoughts (princesstheodora.net)
That soft autumnal time…
The year’s last, loveliest smile,
Thou comest to fill with hope the human heart,
And strengthen it to bear the storms a while,
Till winter days depart…
Far in a shelter’d nook
I’ve met, in these calm days, a smiling flower,
A lonely aster, trembling by a brook…
~John Howard Bryant
In autumn the Maker’s pigments turn from the soft pastels of springtime to emboldened, jewel tones. Glad witnesses are we to the green leaves on shining sumac, flowering dogwoods, Bradford pears, sweet gums, Shumard oaks, and crape myrtles changing to mixtures of burgundy, crimson, orange, and gold. Other treats are setting buds for next year’s blossoms among the fiery red, ripening fruits of the dogwoods, and the deeper shades of blues and pinks that adorn the thickened petals of hydrangeas. And if that is not enough to make the year smile, there are the willow…
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Bette A. Stevens, Maine Author 
Written
on 05/01/2016