Monthly Archives: November 2012

A Moment Ago….

Moments live……

Blessed by breath they come upon us – these moments, chaining our impassioned journeys into little chunks of joy and tragedy, ruthlessly bestowing upon us the tempestuous will of God.  Their lives seem so frail, so tenderly lost to the next moment, the next cause, the next drama…..  But moments don’t just fade away.  Nigh, young heart, you shall find them again.

The cock crows for the birthing sun, which brings to him a new day, a new chance, a burgeoning life filled with endless possibilities…  But he doesn’t remember yesterday – nor does he know of tomorrow.  This moment is all he has, and all he will ever be.

Seek those lost moments friend, and keep my heart with you always – polish them with the oils of kinship, love and time.  For they shall soothe you when your own sun sets…..



© 2013 John Richter

My Canvas

spacerIn what hour did God create the world?
That hills and streams and forests
could flow from one to another –
with such ease upon an artists brush?

That such a wistful stroke would cause
the beauty of all the world to fall –
within a robin’s egg?  Or in the creaking
bend of majestic pine?

Such is the whispering breath of angel’s wings….

And that I should rise amidst their flutter
in the shadows of this great canvas –
comprised of all the oils on His pallette…
What beauty brings I, says I.

That even the tiniest ripple in the tiniest pond
could humble my presence –
Or that the solemn single ray of Sun
breaking through an ominous cloud might
so easily soar above my nothingness……

What beauty brings I, says I.
Is it simply that I say?
There is no greater glory than the human heart,
its blank canvas left to our own brush….
And what shall I paint this hour?


You speak no Latin more than I, belike;However, you’re my man, you’ve seen the world

— The beauty, and the wonder and the power,

The shapes of things, their colors, lights and shades,

Changes, surprises — and God made it all!

-Robert Browning



The Final Falling

The worlds gray mesmerized me, flowing through my skin and flesh as easily as water through a sponge.  Motionless and with the slightest breeze whipping my cheeks I sat thoughtless, allowing the skies and withered fall world to encompass all that I am.  Her beauty captured me, her earthen colors sleepily looming into my very being.   Then, with the wisp of windy breeze I watched the very last dried bit of brown leaf fall from the mighty oak.  Its whirligig twirl falling to earth was so odd, but finally it lit upon and disappeared into a massive brown carpet of its fallen brothers and sisters.  Home again.  And I shall smile.

Waters Past

Waters rushed by me, rippling and tinkling over the creek bed stones.  Their colors were so earthenly warm, so inviting as the cool water flowed briskly over them, magnifying the depth of their hues……  And then just a glimpse, a noticeable dart from the corner of one eye caused me to focus on a nearly invisible little group of minnows hesitating their tiny trollop, as though they were as curious of I as I of they.  What must they see beyond the rippling of their waves?  A being who lives and breathes beyond the comfort of their watery world?  How monstrous I must seem.  And yet how tender they seem to me, as though the brightest rose could not match the great color of their minute, delicate little curiosity.  I am glad they saw me – for the tenderness of this moment has kept me for many, many years.   My boyish eyes beheld them…..  A wonder of God’s creation.  And that memory has lost no vibrancy in nearly 50 years….  I hope their years have been as wonderful as mine.