Halo Moon

The halo moon we see it glow,

A ring refracting light, crystals of ice.

A beautiful phenomenon, of God's design.

 I had to look once, no twice, to make it mine.

October is full of moons,

Darkness and light,

A month for frivolity,

And fright.

There are festivals in the fall,

Apple picking, fun at the fair. 

All the while, there is the gory.

Tales of witches, a ghost story. 

The enemy lurks in hearts,
Not knowing Jesus, hearts that turn away.
And sometimes, it is left to women's hearts,
To listen and obey, to call on Him and pray.

Women will march in pink,
Against cancer, hoping to find a cure.
And there is certainly one there,
His name is Jesus and His heart is pure.

Whether you can believe in miracles,
Or the treatment you receive,
He is there for you, your strength,
Can you believe?

And women face another foe,
Domestic violence, is prevalent, as you know.
So the month has been set aside, to be aware.
I chose the halo moon to lift them up in prayer.

So if you, would take a moment and pray.
Lord, we would love you to return soon.
Yet, so many are still lost, will you find them?
Send them healing, deliverance, under the halo moon?

I like to walk out to the driveway at night,
I look around and locate the moon.
Usually, a bright white, sometimes, a sliver,
And once, gigantic and golden, in starlight strewn.

I could almost reach up and touch it, it was so close to me.
And that is the way Jesus is, He came to set us free.
And I believe He is coming soon.
Women everywhere, will you pray, when you see the moon?

May He flood the earth with angels,
Halos or not, when we behold the moon.
And gather us in His arms, as beloved brides,
Prepared for the beloved groom.

He holds us dear,
He holds every tear.
He heals every heart that's been broken,
Has not given us a spirit of fear.

October doesn't have to be a time of fright,
We have  to look to Him, for His love, and His love is light.
Say a prayer to Jesus, our Lord...
When the moon appears tonight.

Lord, keep them safe, send your Spirit and an angelic flood.
Keep us safe. protected, covered by your blood.

Rebecca Jones

October is Breast Cancer Month
Domestic Violence Awareness Month, even Pastor Appreciation Month.

This poem is my property. I retain all rights. But share it freely with cancer patients or women in crisis situations. May He bless someone through it. Please just leave my name. Thank you.

The Children's Moon

The Children's Moon,

It's called in the light. 

For they are sleeping,

Angels, keeping them, at night.

High in the sky so bright and blue,

The Children's Moon smiles at you.

Watching over you, day by day,

Coming closer to watch you play.

Then at night while you rest, 

The moon watches over what God has blessed.

Sometimes, in a black sky, with sprinkling starlight.

It is close to me, yellowish red, as if to say, " It's alright, go to bed."

The Children's Moon waxes and wanes,

Rotating the earth, it never complains.

Doing what God created to do, drawing the tides,

Counting the days, the moon is shining, always.

Whether it is the Children's Moon, opaque, in blue.

Or eclipsing the sun, quite rare.

Be it the crescent or full moon at night.

God hung it there for us, the way He says good-night.

Rebecca Jones

Teach Me To Be Still

Teach me to be still, Lord, 

So that I always will.

Look to you first,

My prayer unrehearsed.

Teach me to be still,

So I will call your name.

Your are my first, my last.

My everything, everyday, always the same.

Teach me to be still, Lord.

Let me relax and rejoice in your quiet,

Before I panic, and melt into madness,

Let me sit before you and try it.

The world can be such a loud place,
The home should be a sanctuary.
But it is often even more chaotic,
And that could be so scary.

But you have taught me to be still.
I know you are God and you are mine,
And in the silent, secret place of amazing grace.
You whisper peace to my heart, everything is fine.

Rebecca Jones / photo Christian Newman

Risen

Risen, glory, stone, tomb.

Rolled away empty tomb.

Death defeated, saved.


Rebecca Jones /Haiku

Baby Bubbles

Baby bubbles bath.

Bedtime bubbly sudsy cute.

Rub a dub, my tub.

* For National Haiku Day

The Winds

March winds begin to stir,

You hear the sound there of.

Like the Holy Spirit blowing, 

Unseen, but filled with love.

The seasons change and the time.

Days are longer than before.

An hour of sleep, or sunset later.

Who could ask for more?

The precious memory of sacrifice,

Resurrection Day,

The love of Jesus flowing life,

Into each new spring day.

The winter's cold we may feel,

A nip in the air, a sudden chill.

But the sun is warm against my back.

And I never mind a butterfly attack.

They chase me in the spring,

Kisses from the Son, 

And I embrace them fully,

Spring winds blowing every one.

Rebecca Jones