"That I may publish with the voice of thanksgiving, and tell of all thy wondrous works." Psalm 26:7
Love Haiku 46:48
46
as we walk, my love
September winds drift petals
in twinkling twilight
47
moonlight on the path
fragrance bends around the trees
our shadows linger
48
lavender breezes
the echo of your laughter
drifts into my heart.
D. G. Vachal © 2025
Image by Benjamin Kubitza @ Unsplash
The Years, My Friend
The years, my friend, have not been kind
upon your marble face —
I hear the river songs
tinkle with the cymbals,
I see your eyes shrivel
like unpicked grapes on the vine,
your mouth a wounded cherry
pecked by restless robins.
Take my hand, my friend,
let us go to the calling fields
that blaze with diamonds
under the eternal skies,
to the orchards in the midst of winter,
where leafless branches stand dauntless
in the endless cold,
telling jubilant tales
in the blizzard of their days —
Hearken to the legends
of root, of bud, of sun,
and to the promise
(believe the promise)
that warmth and springtime
will return,
(they always return)
once again.
by D. G. Vachal © 2013, 2025
*** Photography by Farhad
Waxing Moon and Summer’s Farewell
How swiftly the season turns:
moment passes by another moment
as in my elusive nighttime dreams,
all the while the ardor for life abides
though cooler breezes quench
the noonday fires —
I hear summer’s last melodies
edged with change
cedar waxwings whistle among the birches,
the meadow edge
hums with crickets and katydids,
mourning doves croon their yearning calls
into the twilight air —
evening approaches:
a waxing half moon sheds silver threads
upon the garden fronds,
forest trees cast blurred shadows,
open fields lie platinum pale
half radiant, half shrouded,
inlet waters quietly flow
into their appointed oceans
in albescent half-light —
last day of August
I stand at the precipice of summer’s departure
on a quarter moon evening,
revealing yet secretive
of what approaching Autumn holds.
D. G. Vachal © 2025
Image by W.carter, CC0, via Wikimedia Commons
April’s Sapling in August
April’s sapling
arising from the fragrance
of damp spring earth,
tiny buds unfurl like infant fingers,
release the first soft leaves,
chartreuse
as songbirds return,
perch
upon scrawny shoulders —
lengthening days drift with tides,
clouds of egrets in flight,
dawn dewdrops
ephemeral
upon blades of grass —
quickly comes August:
the sapling’s girth thickens,
networks of roots proliferate,
dig deep
like earthworms into warm soil,
arms broaden from twigs to branches
as thrushes thread through the canopy,
warble with the rustle of emerald leaves,
golden harp melodies
in the cooling breezes.
D. G. Vachal © 2025
Image by Jonathan Billinger @Wikimedia Commons
“But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you;
That ye may be the children of your Father which is in heaven: for he maketh his sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and sendeth rain on the just and on the unjust.” Matthew 5:44-45
The second of the two commandments of Jesus is to love our neighbor as ourselves. The definition of “neighbor” is all-encompassing: it includes our enemies, for Jesus asserts that we should also love them. What was His reasoning? So that we may become the children of the Father in heaven.
How are we to carry out this kind of love? We are to be as children, imitating their Heavenly Father, Whose love is unconditional, and even undeserved: One Who makes the sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and the unjust.
What kind of love is it? It is an absolutely disinterested, impartial love, one that does not depend upon the qualities of the object of this love, but in spite of it. And this is the kind of love we are to have towards our neighbor, too, and yes, even towards our enemies: those who are arrayed against us, who curse and hate us, those who despitefully use and abuse us.
As Dr. Lloyd-Jones explains it: “The whole secret of living this kind of life is that man should be utterly detached. He must be detached from others in the sense that his behavior is not governed by what they do. But still more important, he should be detached from himself, for until a man is detached from himself, he will never be detached from what others will do to that self. ” For as long as a man or woman is living for self, he or she will always be sensitive and reacting to what others will do towards oneself, therefore, “the only way to detach yourself from what others do to you is to detach yourself from yourself.”
Hence our treatment of others must not be dependent on how they treat us, or how they are towards us, but rather, dictated by how we view them and their condition. Instead of reacting to their negative treatment, our actions toward them are to be governed by the principle of love: to understand that their attacks towards us either are due to the basic imperfection and failings of human nature, and/or perhaps influenced by the god of this world; therefore, we are to pray for them.
Detachment from self, dying to self, takes supernatural grace, and the good news is that it is possible for a Christian to carry out this kind of love by living his or her life in Christ. For in Him, and by the power of the Holy Spirit, we are a new creation who can live in this present evil world at a higher level, belonging to a different kingdom, the kingdom of God.
D. G. Vachal © 2012, 2025
lilies, sparrows and grass 
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