Right Where We Should Be

We are, right where we should be.
All things;
light and dark,
good and evil,
joy and sorrow,
love and hate.

Working together, really?

The sun’s light,
the warmth and comfort
sunburns
blistered skin.

The heaven’s rains,
refreshes and cleanses
drenching
drowning breaths.

We are, right where we should be.
All things;
stumbling,
falling,
struggling,
groping.
In the dark
of the shadows fringe,
builds a yearning
not from duty
but desire.

As we live,
right where we should be.
Covered by grace
believing,
hoping,
waiting;
for the unfulfilled promises
still to come.

~Mark Schutter ©2015
imageJust Believe – Grace Wins – Hope Lives

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Look at Me!

Look at MeLook at me,
smiling seemingly having it all.
Look at me,
smiling standing upright and tall.

Look at me,
what don’t you see?

A scared little boy inside the man.
A monster of depression about who I am.
An ego driven hypocrite who pretends to stand.
An eternal soul that inhabits physical space.
A beloved child who hides his face.
A fallen saint in search of grace.

Look at me!
I’ll tell you what you also do not see!

A sinner saved by grace.
A beauty behind this tortured face.
A saint destined for heaven’s place.

A complicated yet still loved man.
Who struggles everyday to believe.
An eternal hope that is conceived.
And his glorious future is planned.

~Mark Schutter ©2015

Just the Right Time -A Tree Story

They buried me deep to prohibit the evil from returning. Long held superstitious beliefs still ruled the minds of many people. The cool damp earth heavily covered every inch of my body. I felt nothing as shovels of dirt hit my face, my eyes open wide and vacantly staring at the sky above. Dust and mud filled every crevasse of my skin. Soon the darkness completely overtook me and there was no more.

The little seed had long lay undisturbed, wedged between two stones deep within the earth. Now as my body melted into an unrecognizable pile of rotting flesh the dust became damp and permeated with the squalid and putrid smell forming a muddy mixture. The oozing moisture from the decaying flesh began to bleed into the surrounding dirt and covered the little seed in life-giving moisture. In that moment, deep in the silence, life began to stir.

Breaking through the shell and hard outer husk a small white tendril began to slowly struggle upward in the dark. Drawn by an instinct that upward was were there was a place that light existed. The small shoot of living mass passed through my stomach which was now an unrecognizable mixture of internal organs, flesh and earth, weaving its way through the bones of my ribs. Its quest for life seemed to direct it away from the poisons secreted by my decaying liver and kidneys. The multitude of enzymes and proteins from my rotting flesh feed the small seed’s every growing need.

Growing stronger and bigger the long white shoot became a missile as it continued upward through the dark soil. Like an albino snake it inched its way towards the surface around obstacles and powering through the damp earth. After many days, that seemed like forever in the dark, a small white shoot broke through the hard crust of the earth. Protruding upward the small spike of a living plant was overcome by the bright light.

The warmth and power of the sun was overwhelming. Immediately a metamorphosis began to occur. The little white sprout began to synthesize and the color of green began to grow into the small wisps of the upstart life. Steadily the years passed; as rains came down saturating the ground followed by sunshine that gave warmth, silently encouraging continued growth. Stronger and stronger it became, resilient to the cold winters, the restless winds and the myriad of enemies that sought its destruction.

Ever up towards the blue of the sky it grew its branches extending as if sniffing the smells carried on the winds. The pine needles rustled in the breeze creating a symphony of sounds no orchestra could match. The trunk became full and strong, the roots burying themselves deep into the soil, past my long forgotten corpse.

The sun circled lazily through the sky day after day and time moved on as it is want to do. One bright late spring day a young girl and her father stopped to rest in the shade cast by the trees long velvet green branches. They had been walking enjoying the warmth of the sun on their skin and now they sat down in the cool shade, as a faint smell of pine scent wafted in the air about them.

“Daddy, how long do you think this tree has been here?” she asked looking up into the enormous canopy over their heads.

Her father paused, looking up also and replied, “Oh honey, I am sure a long, long time. A tree this huge takes a lot of years to grow this big. You know it started from just one small seed, smaller than the end of your little finger and it was in the right spot at just the right time.”The Life of a Tree

The little girl lay back in the shade of the mighty tree smiling and looked up into the tangle of branches of gently swaying pine needles reveling in the quiet. She watched as a small bird seemingly unconcerned hopped from branch to branch. The late afternoon sunlight filtered through the branches as her father felt his heart swell with love for his little girl. They sat together remaining silent in the midst of the circle of life that revolved around them.

~Mark Schutter ©2015

The above writing was began during a free-write session of our workplace writing group with the prompt to write about a tree and use the physical senses throughout. I did not have time to finish during the session but already had the ending in mind so I went back and finished it with some editing.  What do you think?

Angry Scars

 Angry ScarsSometimes the scars are angry.
Sometimes they scream.
Sometimes the scars will bleed.
Sometimes they whisper.
Sometimes the scars…
are just what we need.

Each jagged line.
Each memory it marks.
Each time we remember.

Our past is gone,
forever we’re told.
We are left with tracks,
embedded deep within our souls.
Leaving behind what never comes back.

Each piece lost.
Each fading dream.
Each time we awake.

The future is bright,
with unwritten chapters.
A life forever He is sealing,
as our hearts cry in the dark.
On this journey we pray for healing.

Sometimes the scars are angry.
Sometimes they scream.
Sometimes the scars will bleed.
Sometimes they whisper.
Sometimes the scars…
are just what we need.

~Mark Schutter ©2015

“Love” in 10 Sentences; no more and no less.

Love in 10 SentencesOh my! These challenge prompts always make me anxious. The challenge I received from Staci at A God Colored Girl in a Grey World was to write a poem about love in 10 sentences. Thank you Staci for thinking me worthy and sorry it has taken me so long to post something! Each sentence is supposed to contain the word ‘love’ and have only four words in each sentence. I’m also suppose to include a favorite quote about love and challenge ten other bloggers, which may or may not happen. 🙂

“The pain I feel now is the happiness I had before. That’s the deal.” ~CS Lewis (quote)

I chose this quote because of how it speaks to me of reality.  A reality that I have lived and am living now. You can read about that on my about page A Cowboys Heart. To experience love is also to experience pain and I use this quote to remind myself the reason I feel pain now is because of a happiness I had that was lost, yet I would not change a thing.  I am very happy now and unfortunately it too will most likely lead to pain.  However, I refuse to dwell on that and chose to love relentlessly, passionately and fully anyway.  I urge you to do the same and allow yourself to feel the emotions, for there is always hope.

Ok, now for my nominations. There are so many fantastic bloggers out there it was hard to only pick 10, yet here they are in no particular order:

Shawn – Shawn L. Bird
Kim – Building A Life of Hope
Christy – Poetic Parfait
Dorothy –  Eyes to Heart
Hannah – Metaphors and Smiles
Kellie – Kellie Elmore
Holly – House of Heart
Carri – Moments of Unveiled Grace
Jessica – Jessica Kristie
Sean – Sean Bidd

And I am also going to nominate the members of my writing group from work who meet twice a month during lunch > Max, Greg, Lindsay, Virginia, Tony, Darren, Susie, Francine, Mat and Nicole.  Many do not have blogs, so I will email them a link and the directions.  I will post their contributions on my blog in the future.  Okay, everyone get your ‘write on!’