THE LADYBUG AND THE FLY

THE LADYBUG AND THE FLY

(c) 2011 Leah Randelle


The ladybug and the fly,
Vying for respective dominance,
Were buzzing and bouncing against
The outer glass dome encasing the light.

The zzzz’s and bumps and bonks
Spelled out a buggy dance,
In the dark of early morning, both entranced
Trying to break into the on-switched light.

The ladybug, dressed in her finery,
Red wings and elegant approach
Striking the glass, with force to broach!
Her beetle shell clicked the code of her glee.

The fly, a black buggy buzzing mess,
Clearly lost and out of his element,
He knew only one thing, however inefficient,
Even if bruised, he had to get at the light!

The ladybug and the fly,
Vying for respective enter-ince,
The ladybug content to warm herself thence,

The fly pursuing to his last buzzing breath,
Though he die in the trying, busted and bereft!

She, content on the outside with her pretty shell aright,
He, spent and spent till consumed by the light.

The Brightness of Your Glory

The Brightness of Your Glory
~Leah Randelle, (C) 2011


Let my eyes become accustomed
To what they could not before see,
The brightness of your glory
Above the crystal canopy

Four magnificent, unearthly creatures
With the angelic host surrounding
Your blazing throne to proclaim
With wings in beat, Thundering

That you are holy, holy, holy!
And the whole earth is full
Of your glory, though veiled
From our eyes as through glass dull

Lord God! We gaze intently into
Your perfect Law of freedom,
Hearts Hungering and Seeking
Your presence, our Need from

Ages long before, now increasing!
As revelation, wave upon wave
From past to present to Eternity
Making known your Power to Save!

Promised first in the Garden
A Champion who would defeat
The serpent Enemy of our souls
The root of Sin which suffocates

Though your glory not diminished
You came as Servant into this world
From beyond the Crystal Expanse, and Throne
By an Emerald Rainbow encircled

A veil of flesh, a Son of man
We could not see, lest you would give
New Eyes, New Heart, and Open Ears
Champion born to die so we would live?

Your life, poured out to fill jars
Of clay, earthen vessels not fit!
What myst'ry! You make holy the profane!
What sin crucifies, you Resurrect!

Let our eyes become accustomed
To what they couldn't See before,
The Brightness of your Glory
Ravishing! Revealed! for the veil's been torn!

To Heights of a Growing, Glowing Purple Tinge

To Heights of a Growing, Glowing Purple Tinge
(c)2011, Leah Randelle Page


Snowy disaster crushing by its weight
To isolate each resident entrapped
Each wrapped in drifting, white sand art
Imparting heat from within each snugged
Sweet hug of houses glowing, firelight
With smokestack height, the signs of life
Winding skyward from strife - to show,
Through hope exercising its patience
Whence feet of white siege be dug out,
There be, about, a sense of expectancy
As entrancing drip drip drip from the eaves
Believe tomorrow's sun shall yet come

So it's begun in darkness hovering
The new day discovering the ravages of
Yesterday's savaged, swallowed and broken,
Unveiled branches pokin' through at dim horizon
As the sun's a'risin' with interminable pace
To smile it's face, so the buried we survey
The storm's remains....Shock! for nature's duel
Over jewel-encrusted, silver trees has climbed
To heights of a growing, glowing purple tinge,
A subtle singe - a morning mercy unfurled
Over winter-weary world, and shadows tracing
From top branches down as the sun goes up

So stops each of us, and we be still and know
That so is the warmth of grace and God

YER A BOLTIN’ WILL-WILD COLT

YER A BOLTIN’ WILL-WILD COLT
(c)2011, Leah Randelle Page

Yer a boltin’ will-wild colt
Bravado on yer sleeve cuz it’s yer main reprieve,
Defense against the invader,
That shadow nightmare violator
Hoof him under his chin, so his pretext can’t get in
And break yer spirit from within
Cuz it’s been had before, though there ain’t a soul that’s been told

Yer a hidin’ hermit hermaphrodite
By the force of yer broken voiced relief
As if you had a choice, but now
Yer wired from the inside out
Claw yer way to the sages, but you’ve been lost for ages
Amidst all those stolen embraces
And you can’t make tomorrow without letting go of yesterday

Yer a smokin’ silky seductress
The evil so interwoven with yer own longed-for-loving
That you can’t defend yerself
From yer shadow nightmare self
You can’t see his face, so you’ll cut his portrait
In yer own skin and use the blood
To rouge yer cheeks for weeks, to win the hope of just one chance

Yer a startin’ over again, you rover
Left that footprint in their sand, so now it’s off to Neverland,
Shake the dust off yer shoes
Though the nightmare always shadows
Maybe here will be the end where some sword will defend
So yer heart and soul can mend
Because all you know to wish for now is just a good night’s sleep



*Started reading new book "Rid of My DisGRACE" last night ~ recently published by Re-Lit, the "literary" arm of ministry coming out of Mars Hill Church, Seattle WA. So far, it has been a terribly good book. I bought this book to equip myself as I have more than one friend who has been sexually traumatized in one way or another - and after starting this book, I think I would also, by virtue of some past experiences, qualify as a victim of this kind of sin. But I am increasingly wondering if there will be any of us left in this coming world who WON'T have been violated, broken, stolen in some way. I can only pray the ministry of the Gospel of Jesus will bring redemption and healing and restoration for ALL of us who carry Shame.