Thoughts from My Notebook

I keep a pocket-sized notebook handy.  It’s nice to have something to “capture” my thoughts for later review.  Some of my younger friends use a small tablet computer for that, but my arthritic hands prefer pen and paper.

I need to convert my notebook into a sleep log for the next month.  For that reason, I began to remove spiral-bound pages.  Most had no further value, but some are “keepers.”  Here are three fragments that I’ve woven into a single [not completely coherent] story about day morphing into night.


Twilight gently nudges the weakening sun over the horizon. Night slides in on velvety slippers as the sun flees its appearance.  Night nibbles away the failing light.  Creatures of the day find rest as denizens of darkness become active.  A cloud-draped sky conceals distant light from a realm far beyond our skies.

As the chill of night dispels clouds, a panoply of starry hosts spangles the firmament.  Later, a waning gibbous moon rises, lighting the earth and making the stars seem dim.  Now is the time for folks like me, and perhaps you, to go to bed.  Pleasant dreams, my friend.



On Sunday, Brad Keselowski drove the #2 car to win the [wreck fest] spring race at Talladega.  This was Brad’s fourth win at this track and his second of the season.  I wrote a haiku for him after one of his earlier wins.


Your car the fastest,
Your smile has stolen our hearts,
In Victory Lane.



Orion hunts the winter sky

Orion hunts the winter sky


Hunter stalks the sky
The icy winds chill my bones
My heart longs for spring

On days like this, I remember how nice it was to live in a land where palm trees grow.  Nevertheless, I am content to be here safe in the midst of the storm.

Monday Rewind

Why do I review old posts?   I want to remember what was on my mind a couple of years ago.  How about three or even five years?  This is from about five years ago.  The question was, “What does it look like to be a Christian?


The Question

I stood the midnight watch atop the rampart
Sleep who wrapped me in her arms had fled
And loving mercy withheld slumber

The year was not yet three weeks old
In the frosty silence above the sleeping world
The hunter made his nightly circuit of the sky

The gibbous moon veiled the scene in ghostly light
And that weak light diminished the stars’ shine
Though its glory is but a poor reflection of the greater

A friend had shared from sincere heart
The thought with which he wrestled
The burning question in his mind

What does it look like to be a Christian
How do you know, how can you spot
That which is real from what is not

As I pondered on the thought and on my friend
My thoughts were bent toward persistent grace
And along side is untiring love

The fruit is borne on the inside
Outwardly, the form and fashion vary
Each of us a Work in Progress

What would your answer have been?

The original post went up in January 2011, part one and part two.

Winter Wind


I felt the winter wind today,
It chilled me with its icy blast.
I do not know from whence it came,
Nor why it went by rushing fast.

Perhaps the wind is like the train,
I saw when I was but a lad.
It made its rounds upon the track,
The sound of whistle made me glad.

Or could the wind be like a bird,
That takes to wing and flies so free.
And seeks its food and for its young,
In summer nest, in winter flee.

I felt the winter wind today,
It chilled me with its icy blast.
I could not see from whence it came,
Nor where it went as it rushed past.