His message rings true
of grace's gift freely given,
yet, honors free will.
Our eternal destination is our own to decide. The gift has been freely offered. We choose to accept or deny.
fmf April 7, 2023
The Troubadour's Song
Overcome by fear
despairing loss, hope gone
Peter denies Him,
Judas walks beside
the true Messiah, daily
impervious to truth,
ignorance succeeds,
Pharisees deny their Messiah,
Jerusalem cries,
overwhelmed by grief,
John couldn't contain his tears,
his Messiah dies,
dementia cries out,
darkness envelops the cross
death's grip shakes the earth,
heartbreaking loneliness,
despair descends to hell's depth,
where is my hope?
We walk every day beside
the true Messiah,
impervious to truth,
YET>
a single voice sings, illuminating darkness with salvation's song,
the morning light hums, the eternal wrapped in clay, has set Terra free.
His message rings true of grace's gift freely given, honoring free will.
The song of the church is the gospel story of God's eternal plan.
The harvest complete, the church caught up, Israel will once again have a hand in redeeming Man.
Hebrew 4:1 For the word of God is living and active, and piercing as far as the division of soul and spirit, of both joints and marrow, and able to judge the thoughts and intentions of the heart.
Matthew 13: 18-32, Parable of the Sower, Tares among the Wheat and the Mustard Seed, denial and faith to overcome.
Denial or Acceptance come from the heart, here is an excerpt from:
https://crossref-it.info/articles/52/seed-sowing
Parable of the Sower/ and the Mustard Seed Parable Excerpt
"Jesus uses the idea of seed metaphorically in a parable to explain how different people receive the word of God. Christ, who sows the word of God in human hearts, scatters the seed, but some falls on stony ground or is choked by weeds. However, those who receive and understand the word of God are like the good soil which nurtures the seed (Matthew 13:3-9). In another parable he compares the Kingdom of God to a mustard-seed, which is ‘the smallest of all seeds' but which, as it grows, develops into a well-established tree (Matthew 13:31-32). (See also Big ideas: Parables.)
Jesus also used the image of a seed to explain how his death and resurrection (see Big ideas: Death and resurrection) would have a significant impact on the world, resulting in the redemption of humankind (see Big ideas: Redemption, salvation). He explained that, just as a seed would not grow unless it was buried, so he had to die and be buried before his word could be spread: ‘unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds' (John 12:24).
Sowing and judgement
The product of a seed is also used symbolically to stand for the natural consequences of one's actions, both positive as well as negative. Paul warned that ‘people reap what they sow. Those who sow to please their sinful nature … will reap destruction; those who sow to please the Spirit, from the Spirit will reap eternal life' (Galatians 6:8).
Hopscotch with seas shells and whirlybirds in the air, singing weeee and swinging high swing high, flying free, landing barfoot in the grass
Cousins taking turns Counting to one hundred hands in sync, switching without missing a beat the ice cream maker's hand-crank keeps churing.
Walking with cousins Playing with friends, hoping summer will never end.
No school, outside and free, it is time just to be me. Gliding on the porch swing, a bowl in my lap shelling peas with purple fingers- I prefer to snap green beans, please.
Straight from the garden, a summer snack. Chores done, potatoes stored in the shack. Childhood summers make me wish for more, tree climbing, river-side camping on a sandy shore and so much more.
The pulse is weak, a vanishing vapor, Thanatos grins when breathing ceased. Death's grim triumph- of the Afghan thirteen, fallen, betrayed, left behind.
A country's demise by the hands of a few won't be forgotten. America's heart bleeds.
Hope hurts and hope heals, shattering the grip of hate- past and present repeat. (1776)
*Zephyr* The Best Haiku 2025 international anthology. Zephyr @haikugenius.ai/adbeia8aa
Meat for Tea/ The Valley Review Volume 19 Issue 1 pg. 46
Fairytale Fishin’
No buckets, no boats,
And no carrying large totes,
Just Grandpa and me.
A pole in each hand
Grasshoppers by the pond bank.
Gramps catches our bait.
A nibble, a tug.
Feel the line, ignore the bug-
Wait-then jerk the hook-
A flip-flopping, splash,
reeling in a big fat bass
(Excerpt from a Kid’s Tale
by RL Brown)
Congratulations! Your poem "Fairytale Fishin'"was selected to be a part of the 2022/23 Conway Public Poetry Project installations.
In the coming months, we will be working with the City of Conway to install these poems in various locations around the community.
We are also working on a booklet that will contain the poems, their locations, and information about each poet
Sponsored by Blackbird Art Collective, Conway AR
A Pastoral Cacophony
As morning’s first blush slips through the mizzling mist, dawn’s chorus begins. The woodland world wakes, nestlings fluff their feathers, squish together and listen to their twitter song.
Blackbirds sing a low mellow tone blending choral notes to a day-spring chant. Red-breasted robins' antiphonal tweets twitter back and forth. A cool zephyr breezes through the budding trees, and a hermit thrush adds a rhythmic woodwind harmony.
Chee-pippety-chee-chee, Jenny wren joins in with a light peppy lilt, stepping up the beat. Colorful warblers echo a descant as tiny rainbows shimmer in twilight’s dew. A Capella chorus in one voice sings a spring aria.
A blue jay’s catcall signals a tail twitching taunt, kitty in the weeds.
My inspiration for this poem came one spring morning while listening to bird songs at dawn's light. The slow build of antiphonal tweets and the sudden end, orchestrated by my cat reminded me of Bolero by Ravel.
Better Than Starbucks Poetry and Fiction Journal November 2022 Vol VII No IV
Rhonda Bronte Brown is a retired counselor/teacher who lives in Arkansas. She was published in Better Than Starbucks, the Trouvaille Review, and Haiku Seed Journal in February and March 2022. She also writes children’s books. Find her online at https://brontebrown2.com.
Better Than Starbucks Poetry and Fiction Journal November 2022 Vol VII No IV
Haiku: by R Bronte Brown
Winter folds a tree- into a counterfeit death gray, boney, lifeless.Better than Starbucks, February 2022 Publication p. 41
Editor's comment: Stark, powerful and tied to the four seasons.
Haiku Seed Journal @HaikuSeed_ Featuring these wonderful #haiku for the #HaikuSeed "winter"
spring buds pop their heads, february trickery, winter snaps, not yet!
#HaikuSeed / 24 Feb, 2022 winter
All I can think of is an adult snapping at their children who were sneakily playing video games under their blankets instead of sleeping. Loved the playfulness of the writer and the haiku, there is a wholesome nature to it that brings out a smile.
— Sankara Jayanth
Editor, Haiku Seed Journal
@coffeeandhaiku
Trouvaille Review, February 15, 2022 PublicationThe Dignity of Winter by R Bronte Brown
Wind rustles the leaves.
Trees shimmer yawning deeply,
Anticipation.
Autumn equinox,
the balance of light and dark,
time juncture converts.
Turn your face eastward.
Fall moon on the horizon
blazing golden hues.
Extravagant colors!
A migratory bird's last song.
Light wanes for evening.
Winter grants Fall's wish
for an encore flower dance,
frost procrastinates.
Nature splendor yields
a harvest of abundance,
Thankfulness expressed.
Inner autumn calls,
time to embrace season’s change.
The wind howls for rest.
Winter winds whistling
Indian Summer's last stance
Bowing gracefully
Winter’s dignity
Lifeless trees quiet strength
Autumn seeds nestled deep-
Sheltered.
From Bronte Brown:morning’s blush
slips through
the mizzling mist
The Haiku Pond 🍃
@TheHaikuPond
Aug 13,2022
You can listen on your favorite podcast app or here: http://anthonynanfito.com/2022/08/14/a-waterfalls-purpose/
Trouvaille Review, March 23, 2022 PublicationThe Hummingbird
Swiftest things that run the world,
Hums and beats, their wings unfurled.
Hummingbirds need constant fuel.
Brilliant blooms attract this jewel.
Forward, backward, upside down.
These dashing fliers zip around.
Golden flowers brilliant blooms
Entice birds with shiny plumes.
Blazing Star to Geranium,
Coral Bells to Delphinium.
Flower meadows, patchwork plots,
Scattered seeds in local lots.
Echoes of joy ring
The songless world yearns to hear.
The troubadour’s song.
A single voice sings,
illuminating darkness
with love, warmth and peace.
a redeeming event.
Christmas morning rings
a single voice announces,
the Messiah's here.
The Troubadour sings
illuminating darkness,
dispelling fear.
The morning light hums,
hope shines-
the reframe repeats.
WIP
Behold the Baby in the Manager. Behold the lamb and shepherds. Behold, Simenon’s prayer fulfilled. Behold the gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. Behold the gifts from the wise men of the East presented to the King of Kings. Behold the amazement of the Temple priest of a twelve-year-old. Behold the Dove descending on a baptism. Behold the Father’s voice. Behold the twelve disciples. Behold miracles of water into wine, the lame walk, blind healed. Behold, men’s hearts restored, promises fulfilled.
Non-commercial use
Behold the accusation, the persecution, condemnation. Behold the death of a King, a sacrificial lamb. Behold broken hearts, loss, misunderstanding. Behold death, darkness, and dementia.
Behold His Resurrection.
Behold promises fulfilled and promises yet to be fulfilled. Behold the ministry of the church. Behold the restoration of the nation of Israel. Behold Christ’s return for the church. Behold Revelations to come Behold the Second Coming, and every knee bowed. Behold LIFE, LIGHT, and LOVE. BEHOLD HIM, JESUS, the King of Kings.
Fairytale Fishin'
Let’s go to the pond.
Fairytale fishing is best-
when Gramps comes along.
No buckets, no boats,
And no carrying large totes.
Just Grandpa and me.
A pole in each hand
Crickets wait by the pond bank
Gramps catches our bait.
A nibble, a tug-
A fisherman feels the line-
Waits to jerk the hook.
A flip-flopping, splash
Reeling in a big fat bass.
Little ones go free.
My Gran
is an alien, not the kind from outer space but another place.
Tock-Tick, tock-tick, tock Gran's house mingles with the past Time ripples backward
What, no game controls! Gran's and electronic foe Her phone sits holstered.
But, I'm never bored. I made the mistake of saying so- once.
Gran swishes me off to hunt for hidden treasures with only one clue.
Treasures lie within. Only the bravest of braves dare enter-'the Boardroom'
She's a game wizard I'm the assigned scorekeeper We battle with cards.
Gran's the marble champ Her marbles have names-Galaxy Star Dust, Jupiter.
The universe rules. She's the brightest star around I believe it's true.
We follow all rules though we rearrange a few Mom is cool with that.
I pick the veggies. Cheesy cheese and pizza sauce topping my deep crust.
Peel, double whop-POP! Biscuits laid out, cut in half. Fried, light, and golden.
Crispy and warm, Yum! Sprinkle on sugar dust for a delicious treat.
Sometimes, I forget Hold your tongue, hang your towel after the shower.
Growing up is hard. Every day learning is new. But I'm not alone.
Gran's shoulder is there. Reminding me of blessings in following rules.
Mom's dismayed to see fingerprint flowers displayed on the windowpanes.
Leave them there, my dear. They remind me Hope was here. Then Grand winks at me.
We made those flowers with air breaths and fingerprints intentionally.
We watch old movies reels, tapes or DVDs. How can that be me?
But it was Mamma giggling with Granny Sue swinging from my tree.
Tock tick, tick tock tick The clock chimes it's time to go Love you, see you soon.
Mom, I hear you say that Gran is an alien Is that really true?
Just bits of silliness, dear. Gran said the same thing about Granny Sue. We were best buddies. She loved me like Gran loves you. Granny was special.
Yesteryear refers to another time and place. Now, I understand.
Grandbabies creates rite of passage for all parents to become
brontebrown2 