Category Archives: Poems

This will pass

This too will pass.

This will pass like the sun rising.
This will pass like a breath of wind
across the face of a leaf.

Like the butterfly,
who just this morning came,
in a flash of bright colour, and then went.

It will pass.

Those things you worry at now,
with the tip of your tongue.
Lift up, and weigh, and heavily put down.

They will pass.

The things sore yet,
and burdensome upon your heart.
They will catch the wind, and graciously depart.

They will pass.

And behind, in their wake,
might come more things.
But you know this, just as you know yourself adequate.

For all things pass.

The butterfly reminds you of this,
as does the falling leaf.
And the rising sun, warm now,

upon your upturned cheek.

Living Tree Poetry




Every shattered heart
wailing cry and muffled scream
Our brokenness healed
-bdl 4/1/2018



dandelion, sitting on a hill

rooted, grounded, in place, until

a mighty force arose and lifted

carried your essence far from home

floating in all directions at once

never letting you settle

dropping and raising

bouncing between stillness and gales

yet in the chaos, swirling turmoil

your beauty decorated the wind

the gift of recognized breezes

making that which could not be seen

now traced over meadows, fields, hills and valley

where you take root again is unknown

until then your untamed spirit

alights upon my shoulder for a glimpse

of what it means to be unleashed

bdl 6/4/2016

@BrianLoging (Twitter)


Silence as Worship


droplets fall unsteady from the branches above
landing heavy on the roof of a small porch below
the fading goodbye from a storm now passed
which bent trees and wind to it’s will
grass blades unbowed as water rolls off their backs
and rise like the dawn that scatters dark cloud filled skies
birds unruffle damp feathers and christen a new day with their calls
bees hum, ants and beetles pitter and patter
a choir of movement and rhythm fills the air

a lone man watches and lets silence be his worship

…written early this morning as I sat outside, quietly drinking coffee, reading/praying the Psalms and reflecting on how often we miss the miracle of nature…



cleanse – a haiku


moisture dissipates 

plastic water bottle burns 

purified by flame 

bdl 5/2/2015


Traffic – a haiku


rush speed hurry fast

arriving in record time

but miss the journey

-bdl 4/28/2015


to Lament


“To complain that life has not joys
while there is a single creature
whom we can relieve by our bounty,
assist by our counsels,
or enliven by our presence,
is to lament the loss
of that which we possess,
and is just as irrational
as to die of thirst
with a full cup in our hands.”
-by Thomas Fitz Osborne,




she sits outside McDonald’s smoking a cigarette on break

writing frantically on paper a story

between drags she sighs trying to keep her eyes open

as the words fill up the spaces of white


what are these images she hastily puts down

from a distance there is no tale to tell

only in her mind does she see the picture

only from her experience the narrative recorded


what have you seen that compels you to write

what do you know which forces you to journal

what path have you walked that you find yourself here, now

sitting, putting it down on paper, for no one to see




white noise (haiku)


a soft breeze whispers
the fan’s hum a lullaby
waiting, resting, calm



standstill – a haiku


waiting, life is paused
rat race halted, green means go
hands grip wheel, anxious



death’s grasp – a haiku


cold hand reaches out
strangling life, silencing voice
only fools doubt this



logging on – a haiku


books stacked high on shelves
password needed for wifi
quiet connection



worth – a haiku


pennies side by side
one dingy, grubby, one new
both valued the same

bdl 7/1/2014


turning – a haiku


every light blinks red
patience dwindles with each stop
threat to inner peace

bdl 7/1/2014

watered – a haiku


respite from the storm
a moment to recconect
wet ground, nourished hearts

bdl, 7/1/2014


another world


Most people have a list of things they’d like added to make their life better…

Maybe it’s deeper relationships, a more fulfilling job, nicer home, bigger bank account, healthy loved ones, personal well being.

While most of these are worth investing a portion of our time, energy and passion into, they will not ultimately bring us the contentment we seek.

CS Lewis said; “When this world cannot offer that which we desire, we realize we’re made for another world.”




“that light has to go out!” he says in an thunderous voice

one is unsure if he refers to the lamp on the porch

or if his demand comes from a place much deeper


the rain falls onto the deck with a rhythmic beat

descending, pounding onto the worn wood, “pit pat, pit pat

unlike the water from above, the steadiness at which it falls

the uneasiness that rages within the one who watches it


the night sky lights up

flashes finger the clouds finding the weak spots, running to the edges to shine

bitterness and blame also search for ways to escape

racing to the surface, bursting forth with words and silence, tantrums, cold shoulders


the pounding heart beat of nature softens, the drops lessen, the breeze slows to a crawl

“pit…pat…pit…” the space between drops widening, growing more distant, moving on

another front stalls, sits upon the soul of one whose comfort lies in anger, prefers strife

one who has chosen to sit in darkness, where no light is found


bdl 6/25/2014




an exit off the highway leads to a small house nestled in the trees

a driveway of dirt worn away by water and time

a home filled with sounds, smells, now still and stale

photos, albums, trinkets, knick knacks lying upon a shelf, speak of a life that once was

a voice hushed with only an echo remaining





a few lines on a page
is that all that remains
of a path well worn
one littered with joy and pain

of breaths and days
which so suddenly pass
of memories and seasons
not meant to last

words on paper
a notice in ink
of how swiftly all shifts
like vapor, gone in a blink

a moment to savor
the essence of today
tomorrows fade quickly
and life drifts away





a threadbare washcloth lies
by the sink
worn away by use and time

pots and pans sit in a cupboard
awaiting the chance to fill the air with smells, love

a kitchen floor gathers dust
familiar, familial, feet leaving tracks no more

a cracked vinyl chair sits motionless in the corner
no longer rocking, rested upon, empty

a night gown hangs in the closet
with a frail figure imprinted upon it

a mirror hanging on a wall
without an image to reflect

flower pots with weeds, brown remnants
pale in the summer sun

tall grass over takes a once manicured yard
a caretaker no where to be found

a home once filled
now empty



If You Ever


if you ever want to feel small
lie on the ground and look up at the poplar trees reaching into the heavens

if you ever want to feel weak
let the wind blow across your skin and be reminded you cannot alter its course

if you ever want to feel plain
look at the majesty of a single leaf arrayed in its summer glory

if you ever want to feel muted
allow the thunderstorm to shout its fury up and down your spine

if you ever want to feel grounded
let the song of a bird from the highest limb echo through your soul

if you ever want to feel transient
let the roots of the mighty oak reveal their permanence

if you ever want to feel weak willed
let the water show you pores in the stone

if you ever want to feel second best
let nature whisper; “before and after you, I will remain.”



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