Wild Horses Run - Prebula, Diane
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Praise for God's creation rings like timeless bells, blows like a train from yesterday's valley announcing the joy of His rescue, relief, and plan-hope and a future beyond our imagination. Simple visions of His majesty and compassion flash through the pages of Wild Horses Run-Beyond the Sugared Hills as in the following selection from the poem, "Appaloosa Sky": You have blown lavender light on the hills. The afternoon is sinking into dusk, soaking into the ground of our breath . . . The appaloosa sky dapples with a thousand small clouds. They begin to merge as they drift over the hills. Hope…mehr

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Produktbeschreibung
Praise for God's creation rings like timeless bells, blows like a train from yesterday's valley announcing the joy of His rescue, relief, and plan-hope and a future beyond our imagination. Simple visions of His majesty and compassion flash through the pages of Wild Horses Run-Beyond the Sugared Hills as in the following selection from the poem, "Appaloosa Sky": You have blown lavender light on the hills. The afternoon is sinking into dusk, soaking into the ground of our breath . . . The appaloosa sky dapples with a thousand small clouds. They begin to merge as they drift over the hills. Hope begins to rise within-it dapples our countenance. This collection of poems praises the Lord of all creation for speaking to and through us. He does this in spite of our sin and frailty. Consider the following excerpt from the poem, "The Invitation": Everything's in flux, and I'm fading with age as our culture draws the breath of its final images, its concluding sentences. This ending may drag on for years or decades; we cry for rescue with eyes of faith. You infuse us with a scent of home. We've welcomed everyone to join us-so many choose to decline. The pilgrimage revealed on these pages reflects the pain and suffering we all experience in this fallen world, especially in these postmodern days. God's people cry, "Come, Lord Jesus!" The following lines from the poem, "Seabird Passing" praise Him: It's You, Lord; You absorb A spout of tears as I press into the chest of Your Spirit. You touch me with a breath of Your boundless beauty. Ponder these verses from the poem, "Piano Solos": You interpret the music and dance to color us through winds by the ocean. You draw us through forests and over hills. But again, You take us back to Your lost cities, where we stumble through the brown haze; we learn to breathe through the back side of everything, including ourselves.
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