Poetic Inkwells and More

 Giving My Gift Away   by Clara Mitchell 5/29/2024 I am giving multiple births over my lifetime. The births are not flesh and blood. The births are words inside of me. The words have my voice. My DNA is etched inside each line. The imagery is developed over time. It grows and grows till it is understood. Poetry has a lifespan-- It depends on the words. It can live on and on Or pass away by evening. Creativity is not bound by its passing. Inside every poet or writer is an inkwell. An inkwell that patiently waits to be filled up. Inspiration helps, Prayer invites our ears to hear God, I meditate on different concepts. The pen begins to use the inkwell. There are signs of life across the page. At last, another overflow of ink. Many lines appear out of nowhere. It is like a sudden shower Only to be gone in an hour. I am in the final push of birthing new poems. I have more inside. I gladly give my gift away. The timing is of the Lord. There comes an end

No One Can Replace Us         by Clara Mitchell 3/24/2024 People pick me up as soon as I am published-- Or should I say born. Poetry is like a baby. The seed sneaks in unaware for a later time. Later the narrative opens into a few lines. The lines begin to make stretch marks. The realization of a new poem touches My senses to listen. The lines speak like an audition-- Pick me, take me into your study. Sit with me and ponder my words. What did my poem do to you? Read it again. The theme is bursting through. I care less over a few stretch marks. The life of this poem must find its new home. The delivery is now done. Published and in circulation. I will leave it with the editors. Someone will adopt this work of thoughts. It is like a rush of adrenaline The contractions are closer now. Which editor will foster this newborn. How many times will I submit poems like this? Sending you off to make room for new pushy poems. They will get through no matter the wait.

  Running Your Race       by Clara Mitchell I promise to create. A time for a clean slate. Put away the sin that does so easily besets us. The Christian race is a life marathon. Hebrews 12:1   says, “Wherefore seeing we also are compassed about with so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset us, and let us run with patience the race that is set before us.” Put away and tidy up. Same theme for keeping house. Same theme for keeping our spiritual house. God is a God of order. Lay aside. The weight of sin. Lay aside. God has set things up. The racetrack is ready. Everyone takes your mark, set, And go. I am not running late. The set time is set. My lane is open for me.  I will stay in my lane. How many laps or years to go? Never mind, keep running.  It is His will that we all finish our race. God holds the stopwatch. His Timepiece is accurate. God sets our lives in motion and He removes us a

  Because the Days are Evil (Eph 5:16-18) God asks us to redeem the time…  Things have been ending for a long time.  Many now believe that we are in the end times.  A window of time remains open.  I want to share about a time concept called Kairos.  In Greek the word Kairos means time.  In Greek, it translates: a pregnant moment, a time for Opportunity and favor, or a point in time. Kairos is unlike the watch that tells time (chronos) in minutes, Seconds and hours—a measurement of time.  Kairos is a moment in time that is right to Bring opportunity into our life.  God is the God of many chances.  Moments of Kairos can buy us back lost time. A point in time is our Kairos time.  Opportunity knocks when God is at the door.  Each life looks at opportunity from their vantage point.  God knows the seasons and times for everything.  What time have we lost?  God gives us windows of Kairos time.  Forget the reasons for losing opportunities and time.  Now is the time to redeem those years. God c

  The words are twirling and swirling like a top. I feel giddy when I make it stop. The words rise again to the top. The top creates the motion. The words create emotion. I cannot make it stop. I love the little top!

Hide and Seek        by Clara Mitchell 3/22/2024 I must put away childish things. God is right. There are exceptions. Our inner child at times makes an appearance. Depending on our stage in life, It opens the stage for an unexpected scene. A scene where the actor changes the script. This type of behavior is not well received by directors. God often plays hide and seek when He tests us. We seek Him early, We seek to find Him-- Usually hidden in a new revelation. It is both playful and mysterious. The seeking is hard work. The hiding places of God Are sometimes a mystery to find. I know I am hidden in Christ. God seeks after me. He calls me to follow Him. He knows my whereabouts Even in the night seasons. I cannot avoid His searchlight. He shines the light on me. I cannot escape His commands. He knows all my hiding places. I hide in modern day caves. I surrender to His arrest. God is looking for me. The great Shepherd is seeking me.

  I am a senior who toggles and joggles. My income is short The winds of change blow upon my plans. Higher rent usurps my retirement. How is it I could not see? The storm is now upon the seniors. The seniors who now live to find shelter. Higher rent is my challenge As healthcare used to be the challenge. Now both health and wealth For a senior is a wind of change. Pray to stay well. Senior orphans call upon the Lord. How quickly growing old gets old. Now I walk because I can. I am usually feeding the ducks. I have all my marbles as they say. My mind is still with me I possess wisdom The Bible calls it the principle thing. I agree. Wisdom finds the way when there is no way. God allows the trials to go on. Avoid evil know little evil Warnings from God. Wisdom for changing winds. Find God's ways and think like God. I will bear fruit in my old age. My appearance keeps changing Like the cost of living. I pray daily for my bread. God is my phy

Along the way, I have left a series of patches. Patches much like those done to my PC. The process sometimes takes or fails, And other times the issues are completely resolved. I feel that many times after I pray, I leave a patch at Heaven's PC. I have areas that are affecting My usability and functions. Security issues, potential virus problems. Only God can change our spiritual DNA. We all must be renewed with a process of updates. The new nature, Heaven's Born-Again, version-- Will have conflicts with our original hardware-sin nature. The process is a lifetime of rebuilding. Adding and subtracting Old with new data. Areas of breakdown have patches Instead of new programs. God's handiwork remains unique In that every person needs the right Revelations to make future adjustments. In comparison to a computer, PC-- The tweaking and refinements need a service call. As the process matures, The trials and tests reach new levels for growth.

A poet lives in a world of words, That spills over into many tomorrows.  Each tomorrow becomes a new day  And the beat and meter go on.  The one at the table who spills the beans  Is an expression for sharing something hidden.  Those at the table gasp  And put their hands over their mouth.  Words carry power for good or evil.  I think about my words to God during the day. I think about my prayers to Him.  I never feel ignored.  I look for a dialogue to begin between God and me.  Having dialogue with God is the most pleasant of conversations. God listens as I share my heart.  I listen as God shares His heart-- Giving me a Psalm, a song, or scriptures.  At the end of our conversation,  God is still there if I decide to add more. Whenever I wake up or wherever I travel,  I can start the same conversation or begin a new dialogue. God is always there to listen  And console me with His great wisdom. I still need my earthly chats with others,  But I know that God is there for me when chatte

  The Window of My Heart by Clara Mitchell Look into my heart! What do you see? Why, I see many things: people from many nations, Lands afar, like a globe of continents. What you see is a missionary!

  Poetry Seeds              by Clara Mitchell Another poem has found its way out. I put it off for several weeks, but I could not deter. Such spunk and fight from such small seeds. The thoughts took time to germinate. The suspense of seeing a first-born word Is creativity at its best. It is a bit alarming-- In that it brings insight where there wasn't any.

  A Time to Pray      by Clara Mitchell 4/13/2024 A missionary once said at a church service-- A church that isn't praying is playing. The end times are now evident. Launching prayer nets across the globe. The time is now to fervently pray. Fervent prayers "avail much". (James 5:16) King James Bible --Confess your faults one to another, and pray one for another, that ye may be healed. The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much. Souls, repentance, and restoration. Fruit will fill the face of the earth. Prayer seeds Love seeds and more providence will restore. From a poetic prophecy in Isaiah 27:6 Jacob (representing the people of Israel) will take root, blossom and fill the whole world with fruit. Instead of Jacob, Pray that our Prayers will take root, blossom and fill the whole world with fruit. This is how to pray with scriptures for current times, putting in names like Prayers, or even our own name is p

  As The World Turns She often mused the thought of death, Whose choice that it should be. Creator, your own, or family? Since her thoughts came to an end, Her baby no longer lives. As the world turns, Notice the traffic. Signs are posted. Lights do flicker. Why then so many illegal turns? I want to add a note here that I composed this poem 40 years ago. At times in life, our choices lack wisdom and guidance. I think pro-adoption is a far better way than abortion. The sanctity of life is not always perceived in the same way and a quick solution can override a better choice or solution. God has given us grace and forgiveness as we all journey through life. Hindsight is always 20/20 vision. Remember to continue in prayer for God to reach out to those needing support during a crisis time. 

Would my words suit you If I added music? Words alone are like a mute button-- Unless they speak to you. Empty means there is no more. Empty words, they have no core. Neither can they heal the sore. Words that speak to me are wrapped in wisdom. Wisdom like the anointing, Destroys empty words. Today, I pray for words that hit the spot. Not Words that bring me to naught.

Winds of Change Continue         by Clara Mitchell 4/21/2024 Am I losing my touch? I mean, am I out of touch? My mood moves like a child's swing, What is pushing me to go higher? Is it God or is it me, Or is it both? My life is going in many new directions. It is because of the winds of change set over me. The winds will die down soon- As soon as the changes take hold of me. Until that time, I am looking down from a whirlwind. What changes will God arrange That cause such mighty winds to blow? Is there a way to know my next? I am held in suspense by a spiritual whirlwind. The Holy Spirit calls me to deeper faith. I am no longer looking down from this whirlwind. When I grow in faith, I cannot remain the same. Over time, other winds of change Will remove more doubt and unbelief. Faith lifts me higher. Now I can move mountains. The Holy Spirit is my guide into all truth. (John 16:13) He sends the winds of change at the right time.

  The Pen in Hand          by Clara Mitchell My pain is a blessing as I hold tight to my pen. The pen in hand Creates from my genius. The genius is like a genie. Rub the pen and paper Let the ink of genius soak deep into the paper. Soaking up its power and like the anointing, I move into another place. It is the secret place where the genius And poet's inkwells meet up with God. It is a paradise of revelation. A holy time and a time to see Visions from God and hold the new Ideas as tight as I hold my pen. My poetry is like a movie premiere. I must go through many takes before The director-- in this case, God-- Is ready to finish the process. A new art is now ready To attach to the womb Of the minds eager for new life From the hand of God's poets. God's poets, the genius Will extend the themes to time, And time will carry the lineage Into new generations to enjoy. Oh, the lifetime of poetry Is eternal when God is the producer. The

  Inspiration at Work        by Clara Mitchell A time for nature, me and my poetry. Which of the three do I fancy the most? Poetry takes me out of the norm. I drink of this art every chance I can get. Poetry can be a release of sudden inspiration. Its purpose is timely for nature and me. In nature, I walk and talk with God. I want to let him know we are collaborating. Nature opens up a theme park to me. The themes reveal secrets about life. Discoveries are found in nature walks. Inspiration uncovers new places and  Meaning that was lost in prior walks. When I begin to connect with nature, The appearances of poetry are surrounding me. God shows up then a bird captures my eye. At once-- I am not alone with my thoughts. The verses are erupting into poetry. Nature hears my familiar steps. Nature calls me to walk off the path. I find that when I leave the walking path, I leave time behind. I embrace the grace of God. The grace that calls the words that Demand to open scenery. Unearthing tho

Steps and More   by Clara Mitchell I’m in flight again. I am ascending a flight of stairs That lead to go higher. Stanza upon stanza, I build a staircase. The reader and I will share in the twists And spirals of poetry time together. The evening is now fast approaching. The light fades with the day. I gaze out at the stars. I’m on course like a non-stop flight to finish on time. I use my oil lamp as my night light. Making sure it is full. (10 Virgins-Matthew 25:1-13) I don’t like to stumble in the dark. God asks us to be ready for His return. This poem depicts the scriptures in many different ways, and for that reason it would be good to use as a devotional. Psalm 37:23 (our steps) comes to mind as I meditate on the words and pictures shown. Our steps are ordered by the Lord that led us into other moments with Him that take us into the different places according to God's timing for us as we follow Him. We walk by faith not by sight. 2 Corinthians 5:7. 

  Music Takes its Place                       by Clara Mitchell 3/30/2024 As I look back on my life, I am without the music. My poetry sits without music. My life is without music. My poetry is like a blank score sheet. Music visits me now. I continue to write poetry. Hoping for the words To find their place in this stanza. Being out of place Is sometimes starting too early. An octet composition can later find room in eight instruments or voices. The blank score sheets begin to fill up. The outcome is in the scores and sheets of music. Forever written Until we become the music. We play the sounds Now my poetry is playing in my mind against the backdrop of notes. The octaves rise and fall When the notes appear. The piece is set into Sheets of music Only to play in Times of need. It's angelic sounds Console me.

  Poetic Time Release       by Clara Mitchell   1/5/2024 A poet at the inkwell. I come here every day for inspiration. I go deeper to draw from this well. My pen dips into the inkwell as if to test the temperature. Tepid will not do for this hour. Hot words that blaze like fire Releasing a heat to stir the coldest heart. My pen is the hot iron The Lord is now speaking. He wants us hot for him. Hot for His Word. Hot in love for His presence. A poet is often mistaken for a prophet. Yes, I hear and see as the Lord leads. I write and refill the inkwell as inspiration Removes ink upon ink. My pen starts and stops Then finds its place again. When writing our life story, We are all poets. Sometimes we are out of place. Out of sync. No time for missteps. The end is near. Be ready, repent, and on fire!

  by Clara Mitchell   To be or not to be? Hamlet's question is still and remains very interesting. What if God had asked the same question at the start of creation? Instead of Light be, what if He had asked Light be or not to be? God was teaching us as our creator from the get go. Words can create what we cannot see. Words when spoken create an energy around us. The energy takes shape to form our world. Our faith in God's Word is activated as we decree it. Faith builds on scriptures and it is a substance. In today's language it is a controlled substance. Faith is in God's control and we wait for His Word to activate. God aligns us to His will for His glory. His plan is always higher than our own. Seeking God requires anyone one of us to believe. Without faith, we cannot please God. But with faith many rewards are given by God To those who diligently seek him. (Hebrews 11:6)

  by Clara Mitchell I’m on break between stanzas.  I am so happy to be on break that I did some break dancing. There is a time to dance. (Ecclesiastes 3:4 KJV)  My Sudden outbursts of dancing lift my days. Break time is almost over. I begin to gather my notes.  Carefully I arrange each page, side by side for further review. I reach for my red pen, Remembering the former days of school Red ink revisions are ruthless Words that vie to live are removed.  Replacements await at each sweeping stroke,  I must prune my writing. God is the vine (John 15:5 KJV)  We are the branches.  It's in the pruning that we bear more fruit.  Pruning my writing affects me too.  It is hard to exchange a part of me.  The poets or any writer face periods of red ink.  The pruning is now over for the first draft.  Our creation is torn apart in a moment-- I rest now as in a score of music.  Silence fills the air.  I rest on each note written  With ease my pen uncovers more.  There is a rest to the people of God

  Content Creators The writers and poets, Creators of content and more, Face every morning as if A new idea will appear out of nowhere. Wishful thinking my friend. Ideas are content makers. My content calendar is spotty. I have a morning routine. After my routine, I am fast at work creating A new poem for my calendar. The creation process is in stages An inkwell hides from the pen. The writer or poet mistakes the spotty calendars as empty days. What often appears blank or invisible Is necessary to complete the thought process. The ideas all come together. Each idea embeds like a player Inside my mind until all the ideas orchestrate a symphony of sounds. The sounds of each creation Plays out until the time Comes for more calendar content. My calendar is like a talent scout. Needs summon talent. Who needs my talent? What ideas and inkwells are still hiding? The writers are content creators. I see my poetic pen move by God's Spirit.

  The sand is soft on the soles of my feet.  My thoughts are drifting into sand dunes.  One thought takes me back--  to my summer days at the beach.   Then I hear the scripture, “Time is short”. (I Cor 7:29 KJV)  This scripture is like a Clarion Bell calling all of us--  Single or married to serve. Day dreamers will miss their turn to serve. Day planners serve while there are still open windows of time to fill.