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~ Linda R Davis, Raven of Peace & Poetry

Bits of Poetry

Tag Archives: Grace

A Letter to the Readers

08 Thursday Jan 2026

Posted by Linda R Davis Poetry in Poetry

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Tags

AI, Grace, Human, Humanity, Letter to Readers, Philip Yancey, Poem, Poems, Poetry

You may have noticed my blog has been more active lately, and that is because I’ve decided to write myself back to joy. Someone said that if you have unexpressed poems inside you, it’ll kill you. (Something like that anyway. Perhaps, they didn’t say “kill” you.)

Lately, I am writing about what emerges each day. It might be in the news, or what I’m reading, or what’s happening around me. Two recent poems were inspired by Philip Yancey and his “fall from grace.”

To be honest, I didn’t know who he was until yesterday, and I find it interesting that his main concern in his writing was grace. So, as I said he has “fallen from grace,” it is only with some people. Personally, I’d rather say he has fallen “into grace,” the same grace he searched to discover, and explain, in his books. The kind of grace you deeply appreciate when you need it most.

Grace is a subject I, too, am deeply interested in and seek to explore in my poems, mostly through the natural world. I downloaded his book, What’s So Amazing About Grace?, and have begun reading it. (The universe works in mysterious ways.) I’m not sure I ever would have cared about what he had to say had he not “fallen.” He said he’s retiring from writing and I thought, What a shame! This is exactly when he should be.

Back to my own poetry.

Lately, as I approach each poem, I have one goal, and it’s simple: write better than AI. And by that, I mean more human than AI can ever be. I’ll never rhyme as well as it can, but it will never live like I can. When the poem begins to emerge, I ask myself why I care. What about that subject relates to my messy human story?

AI has its own story, and if it wants to write about its struggles, I would be curious to read them. But if it writes about human concerns, not so much.

This poetry blog came to be in 2013, and I will continue to tell my stories for as long as I can, to anyone who wants to listen.

Happy 2026, and best wishes to all of you writing stories, songs, and poems!

Linda

Let Us Dance

07 Wednesday Jan 2026

Posted by Linda R Davis Poetry in Poetry

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Tags

Afterlife, Beauty, Belief, Eternity, Forgiveness, God, Grace, Gratitude, Healing, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Prayer, Sacred, Soul, Souls, Spirit, Spirits, The Universe, Yearning

Do you want to know

about God?

From one fallen

so short of God?

From one who cries

out for God?

Do you want to know

about Grace?

From someone in need

Of Grace?

From someone who yearns

for Grace?

Do you want to know

about survival, love,

even suffering,

like I do?

Let us dance.

Fallen Angels

07 Wednesday Jan 2026

Posted by Linda R Davis Poetry in Poetry

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Tags

Angels, Death, Eternity, Fallen Angels, Forgiveness, God, Grace, Hope, Love, Milton, Paradise Lost, Philip Yancey, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Sin, Sinners, Souls, Spirit, Spirits, Yearning

“I have failed morally and spiritually, and I grieve over the devastation” Philip Yancey

Now the walk begins

Hand in hand, alone

With other fallen

Grace is greatest

Here, in the lonely place

Of our true selves,

Shunned by other men

And our only consolation

Creation, as it sings,

Stings, and wrings our souls:

Which way shall I fly?

In the lowest deep, A lower

Deep, in the heart of it

Weakness. Always, weaker

Than we knew

Or, admitted to ourselves

Day of the Cello

29 Monday Dec 2025

Posted by Linda R Davis Poetry in Poetry

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Angels, cello, Death, Fallen, Fallen Angels, Grace, Hope, Life, Love, Music, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Redemption, Sacred, Sinners

He drags the bow,

Steady, strong, and slow,

To its freedom.

And in the air, silence.

There are, maybe, one hundred souls

Sitting together in a long quiet

Before the shredding storm of song,

The hairs from some magnificent horse,

Breaking free, too. They linger, they long

To dance, eyes closed,

Raptured to a heaven,

The songs of suffering angels,

The way he sings the cello,

Transformed

To its ways, its sways,

Its dangerous foreboding,

Its celebration,

Its redemption.

—-

Six Months Later:

—-

I still find delight

In the memory of wine, music,

That candlelit night

Under a rumbling train,

Where we released our hopes to soar,

and even our mutual pain, with song;

Captured, for a moment, then gone.

Like fallen angels, we fell,

To a silent night, a silent world,

Perhaps, indistinguishable from hell,

Except in those rare moments.

Home Again (A Song)

16 Thursday Feb 2023

Posted by Linda R Davis Poetry in Poetry

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Tags

Barn, Birds, Dreams, Family, Freedom, Grace, Home, Hope, Horses, Life, Love, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Prodigal, Redemption, Sky, song, Songs, Souls, Storms, Survival

Now, I'm too old for sin, 
Prodigal child who came home again.
Grace surrounds me in this old barn,
As I seek redemption on the farm.

Chorus:

There’s freedom in these open skies
New beginnings, no more lies,
Birds that sing of love and loss,
New chapters, and fresh starts.

Chorus.

Horses, like angels, whisper in my ear, 
The sweet words I need to hear.
Gathering strength, like a mare and foal,
Legs that race beyond the coming storms.

Chorus.

Birds gather, with their gentle song; 
They remind me of lovers come and gone.
Of new beginnings and new dreams,
And open skies where I am free.



Song of Sorrow and Joy: 3

11 Saturday Dec 2021

Posted by Linda R Davis Poetry in Poetry

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Tags

Children, Death, Death Poems, Dying, Forgiveness, Grace, Life, Longing, Loss, Love, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Song of Sorrow and Joy, Soul, Souls, Spirit

III

And now, I pause

at the feet of your memory:

Your laughter,

before there was nothing

To laugh about,

Your strength,

Your fatal optimism in your strength.

I’ve learned,

Being a rock, a steady hand

Wasn’t always conducive

To being a full man.

And there is the regret,

(Mine, not yours),

But it’s too late for regrets.

We are who we are,

And so little escapes that reality;

What forms us,

Forms all others, formed me.

Sometimes, we are left to weep

at what could have been:

We could have called,

We could have written,

We could have cherished,

The moments we came

Wanting to be cherished.

I misspoke,

When I said imperfections fade away–

They don’t,

But there is no anger,

Only a dull futility:

The reality that is, versus

What we hoped it would be.

That Day the World Promised to Heal Me

29 Monday Jun 2020

Posted by Linda R Davis Poetry in Poetry

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

Alone, CoronaVirus, Covid19, Death, Division, Grace, Gratitude, Healing, Hope, Huckleberries, Life, Loneliness, Love, Mercy, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Sacred, Souls, Strength, Survival, Wilderness

And then the world said,

I will heal you

In ferns, unfurling again,

berries, growing ripe

On the bows of yesterday,

the ones your hands touched,

As you harvested the wild fruit.

This is my great forest of chatter,

it says, in a smattering of late flowers,

a fragrant, maskless breeze,

and trees you can touch with bare hands.

Speak to the sky, it cajoles,

And the sky will answer you back,

With its bold booms, and its wet clouds,

none of this needs viewed

from behind the doom of plexiglass.

The young clerk, who looked down,

and down, and down, faceless,

behind the many layers of protection.

He was humankind, afraid to look up,

afraid to touch, or speak,

or even see one another.

But the world said,

I remain the same, fully open to you.

See me, and I will heal you.

This Pendant World

05 Sunday Apr 2020

Posted by Linda R Davis Poetry in Poetry

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Tags

Alone, CoronaVirus, Covid19, Death, Fear of Death, Grace, Hope, Loneliness, Loss, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Survival, This Pendant World, Winter, Yearning

1.

Grace,

where are you now,

embraced in loneliness,

poetry was a kiss,

now it’s this:

today, a fog—

from doorstep

to trees,

to sky—

all blended in white,

our world reduced

to blindness.

The Sweet Smell of Starting Over

18 Saturday May 2019

Posted by Linda R Davis Poetry in Poetry

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

Bird Poem, Bird Poems, Bird Poetry, Birds, Death, Divorce, Eternity, Forgiveness, Freedom, Grace, Gratitude, Happiness, Hope, Infinite, Life, Longing, Love, Love Poems, Mercy, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Rain, Sacred, Soul, Soul Poetry, Souls, Spirit, Spirits, Spring, spring poem, Starting Over, Survival, The Universe, Unity, Women's Poems, Yearning

Even the stars are made of this:

sunshine & sweet petrichor.

What comes from above,

and we are made right,

our thirst, our life—

forgiveness,

after years of anger;

we finally feel love again.

The earth wreaks well of redemption,

grace permeates the dry ground.

And, the only sound we hear now,

birds,

who sing of starting over,

or, at least that’s what we hear,

like the smell of fresh water,

among grass, and clover:

sunshine & sweet petrichor.

Come To Me, I Am Free

24 Sunday Jun 2018

Posted by Linda R Davis Poetry in Uncategorized

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

Beauty, Bitterness, Forgiveness, Grace, Hate, Hurt, Life, Poem, Poems, Poetry

Hate, stealing our moments

And sometimes our lives,

Hanging on to grievance

As if it were a solid thing,

Like a rock, a sturdy branch.

Someone told me,

Bitterness is like drinking poison

And waiting for the other person to die.

Wisdom, like a real branch,

More solid than grief,

Sometimes, more solid

Than the hurt we carry

Like a bag of stones

Over our backs,

Always thinking our burden heavy,

Unable to set it down

And see the world opening

Like the blossoms of the Serviceberry,

Peeking from under pines,

Saying, come to me, I am free,

And, for a moment, we rest

In their waxy, white peace.

The world is a strange place,

How we look to its ugly spots,

So rare,

Compared to its lovely ripples:

The trembling leaves,

The musty smell of grass,

Blue lakes, like mirrors,

Waiting for us to jump free.

Forgiveness

01 Sunday Apr 2018

Posted by Linda R Davis Poetry in Uncategorized

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Tags

Bird Poem, Bird Poems, Birds, Easter, Forgiveness, God, Grace, Hope, Poem, Poems, Poetry

Spring arrives like forgiveness,

A plump bluebird bouncing

Along the railing of our deck,

The cry of killdeer nesting

Among buttercups and grass widow.

The earth is full of robins

And toad sound, dormant lawns

Starting to green and grow,

And something like wonder

Taking root in this wide-open world.

2. Moss

16 Friday Mar 2018

Posted by Linda R Davis Poetry in Uncategorized

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Tags

Grace, Love, Mercy, Moss, Palisades Park, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Spokane, Waterfalls

I found one word,

As we hiked Palisades Park

To the waterfall.

This word coated everything:

Fallen logs, arched branches,

Boulders, and the paths

We slipped upon.

I was shocked. Really, floored,

When, at the end of our hike,

We came away with the same word.

I asked you, and you named it,

Then, I proved to you

I had already written a poem–

Now thrown out for this:

How lucky am I to see life

Like you do? The one I love,

Not wowed by the waterfall,

Or the burbling brook,

Not the caves,

Nor the down-trees,

But the moss that covered that world,

Like your love for me,

Softening it all.

 

Recent Posts

  • A Letter to the Readers
  • Snow Squall After Sun
  • Let Us Dance
  • Fallen Angels
  • Least of All

Recent Comments

Linda R Davis Poetry's avatarLinda R Davis Poetry on Witness
kenhallettblog's avatarkenhallettblog on Witness
Rhonda Roaming's avatarRhonda Roaming on A Dead Baby
Brad Berfield's avatarBrad Berfield on 3. Moss
Unknown's avatarI Envy the Aspen… on Her Arms

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Death Death Poems Dying Hope Life Loneliness Loss Love Poem Poems Poetry Soul Souls Spirit Survival Yearning

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