Morning Rain
Morning rain and I think of you again
when lavender light breaks open
the ebony sky—
bridal veil envelops the garden air,
magenta myrtle blooms skyward,
powder blue hydrangeas speckle
the moist ground,
scarlet geranium petals blaze
against the sea-green mist—
subtle
are the days
when seasons turn,
yet still
no matter the peculiar moments,
when morning rain arrives
I think of you again.
D. G. Vachal © 2024
Image by Draconian Images @pixabay
Our Love is Summer’s Fullest Day
awaken with willow warblers at dawn,
pastel ribbons upon dewy grass,
half-awake, half-forgetting dreams
the night before —
faint morning hunger that must be fed,
pearls of light glinting through the windows,
coffee percolates, aroma of baked bread,
warmth served on a round table —
the afternoon oxen plow the hardened soil,
sweat upon the brow, blackbirds
bicker as bees
fierce hunger under the heightened sun —
when cools the twilight down,
softer the laughter and the sighs,
content to hunger at suppertime
our love is summer’s fullest day.
D. G. Vachal © 2024
Image by Guvo59 at Pixabay
A Tale of the Lost Leather Wrist Bag
The air was a white, pearlescent haze as I walked upon the street cobblestones along some quaint shops in a New England village. A small leather bag hanged from my right wrist and in it were my credit cards, driver’s license, passport, and some dollar bills. I felt uncomfortable with the small bag as it was not the shoulder bag I usually carry around.
After walking a while, I sought refuge in a furniture store where I could rest my aching feet. It was then when I noticed that my little leather bag was no longer around my wrist. Suddenly I felt a whirlwind of panic — I have lost the objects of my identity! In the midst of my bewilderment, a kind, middle-aged lady approached me and I told her my plight. With a sweet, soothing voice she said, “My dear, everything can be replaced”.
I blinked and rubbed my eyes. It was all a dream.
The leather wrist bag flashed in my mind and immediately I was smacked with a shock of recognition: it was the exact same bag my father had given me to hold my passport, plane ticket and three single dollar bills when I left home decades ago to pursue graduate studies in a foreign land.
All I owned when I embarked on the plane were three single dollar bills, a few clothes in a small suitcase, and my name.
In a faraway land, God has faithfully provided for me through the promise of each new day, especially through difficult circumstances, across the landscapes of the seasons and the years.
In this life I can easily misplace so many worldly “things” which can be replaced. What I cannot lose is the essence of who I am as a child of God. Though the seedling has grown into a strong, tall tree which blossoms every spring, I am that same young lady who left everything behind, flew towards the stars, crossed oceans and mountains, to pursue a dream.
D. G. Vachal © 2024
Image by Kanenori @ Pixabay
Love Haiku 13:15
13
laughter of my love
cradled by the summer winds
sprays of lavender
14
as a blooming rose
awaits my pulsating heart
softly comes the rain
15
i think upon you
when skies are blue as the Nile
field of white lilies
© D. G. Vachal 2024
Image by Mariya M @ Pixabay
Emeralds and Sand
Upon the sand will I not build my house
for when rains descend and floods overflow,
the winds will howl and beat upon its walls
and it will crumble, great will be its fall
I need no chandeliers, nor porcelain
china, hand-painted with silver and gold,
no dinner dainties with a fattened ox,
content am I to dine on herbs with love.
I seek a shelter strong with warmth and light
where rains and winds and floods can’t topple down
and love burns bright in apple wood hearth fires
and nightingale songs fill the evening air —-
Upon solid rock will I build my house,
there will I find emeralds and rubies.
D. G. Vachal © 2024
lilies, sparrows and grass 
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