Worship is dancing to the Face I adore,
A rapture of seeking, a heart’s joyful implore.
Spilling the melodies of the prayers of Love’s kind,
Oh Lord, I motion with my Heart’s full unwind.
This, but to You Lord, for no other would know,
How fully and deeply my heart’s crevice goes.
Unlike an earthly carved place of Love’s meet,
It winds all the way into this ancient heart’s beat.
Worship is apart like one precious pearls’ shine
It glints like a thousand stars blinking in time.
Gesturing, healing, heralding heavens to sing…
Love casts us to prayer, to worship Our King.
© 2017 Linda Willows
On bended knee I find my own,
the way of simple ‘letting’ known.
Freed are all the burdens kept
out they flew, oh out they leap..
I bowed my head to let all dim,
The Love, came then, it soared; poured in.
My all curled toward the mercy Bright.
Heart folded round firm in this might.
Wrap me round and hold me tight,
I never want to leave this site.
Oh let the fetters of the day,
find their way without my say.
I need to Love on bended knee;
T’is how I die, I live, I see.
The glory All is farther than,
the Whole and heart of even me.
Life, its source, the beauty of…
comes free, but ‘Let’ from far above,
and when we bend our lives to Love
to live and die, to reach to see….
we arch in deep humility.
Touching portal veils that hold,
embrace of sacred love extolled.
©2017 Linda Willows; republish, ©original,Linda Willows 2012
Photograph by Kemil Kamal, his collection unique, expressive; gratitude for use of this wondrous art.
Heart curves to the Face of such beauty as seen,
‘Tis Nature’s sweet bidding’s and tender Light’s green,
That eases all burdens and grasping’s that lean;
This ancient cathedral of Gods’ sweet serene.
Come close and allow me to breathe all of You,
Love blesses each morning that sprinkles the dew,
I pray that Your wonders could wrap me full through,
Your Hidden…such Beauty; we are safe in It’s pew.
Let me hear the sweet whispers of how the wind sings,
I long to remember the chords that would ring
As the Heavens would fly through the trees tops, soft swing.
Let me bend, bind and mend, in the grace of Our King.
©2012 Linda Willows, republish 2016; 2017
Photograph by Sergian