We are a band of believers,
From different backgrounds
With a single goal.

United for one cause,
United to one God,
United into the divine family
Of Jesus Christ our Lord.

Sharing a single dream,
Sharing a single hope,
Sharing a single vision,
The salvation of souls.

Thus we march on,
Looking to God alone
In faith for all our needs.

For we are seeds,
Planted in God’s earth,
Watered with Christ’s love,
Bathed in the divine sunlight
Of God’s Holy Spirit.

Together we are growing,
Sprouting shoots and leaves,
To become stalwart trees

In God’s divine garden,
That wonderland called Heaven.

© MIRIAM JACOB

God,the Divine Artist,
Paints a portrait in your life.
You are His palette.
Here and there,
With skillful and masterly strokes,
He adds a colour,a shade,a line.

You are a beautiful painting,
Becoming a Masterpiece
In His loving Hands.
God views His painting
from His own perspective.
Trust the Eternal Creator,
His ways are perfect
and His plans are wise.

Every child of God
Is a Vessel of Glory,
A divine Masterpiece
By Heaven’s Supreme Artist,
Crafted by Holy Hands.
We arrive in Heaven’s Glory

Completed at last.

(C) MIRIAM JACOB

Through the open, curtained window
Blows the sweet, scented air
Of the late afternoon sunshine;
Outside, the boughs rustle
And toss in the breezy wind;
Beyond them are the woods,
With its enchanted pathways,
Winding through the orchards,
Bearing its rosy harvests.
And, rising high above it all is
a great mountain of snowy clouds
in the soft, serene blue sky,
With a glimpse of a distant,
white-capped, blue sea -
on which floats, like a jewel,
The emerald isles of paradise.

© MIRIAM JACOB

MY WRITING DESK

I sit at my writing desk,
a brightly polished
mahogany escritoire,
with a huge writing leaf,
folding down to reveal
rows of cubbyholes
and tiny little drawers,
cleverly concealing
a hidden portfolio
of glittering pens,
snow-white paper,
priceless tools to
craft words in wisdom,
to underscore the
royal art of writing. There is a direct line
from the human brain
to the written word,
as powerful as any
bright God-given light.
When spoken words fail,
written ones keep us alive.

Seated at my writing desk,
I discover the awe-inspiring
power of the written word.
It transforms my life into the
stuff that dreams are made of.
I am in my ivory palace,
weaving tales into being,
crafting pearls into poems,
and dreams into reality.

© MIRIAM JACOB

THE SONG OF NATURE

The beauty of the moonlight
shines through the leafy branches
of the tall trees in the wood,
making little pools of silver
on the soft green moss.

The sweet call of the nightingale,
the radiant beauty of the morning,
the glad laughter of childhood,
the glint of the sunshine’s kiss.

A path lies in the sunlit meadows,
and in the swiftly darkening woods.
The song of nature’s beauty is heard
in wintry storm and radiant sunshine,
in the dark bleakness of winter cold,
and the warmth of summer gladness.

© MIRIAM JACOB

Youth is a delightful state of mind,
a crystal-clear freshness of the intellect,
a glowing exuberance of feeling,
a vibrant effervescence of the imagination,
an efflorescence of the hidden springs
of innate vigour and vitality,
that bubbles up effluently
to water the soul with life.

Waves of divine optimism
overpower our hearts
with child-like wonder,
extraordinary amazement
at the joy and zest of life,
the sheer beauty of it all,
a kind of thrilling enthusiasm,
that is purely indispensable,
the spirit of youthfulness
to vitalize the world.

© MIRIAM JACOB

Pet’s Corner was
another world
all on its own,
with a unique smell,
a most delightful mixture
of bird seed, dog biscuits
and animal shampoos.
The air was full of
explosive sounds,
mewing, purring,
twittering, barking
and the raucous call of
a gregarious mynah bird.
Parrots, Siamese cats,
a cage full of inquisitive
white mice all vied with
each other for pride of place.
There was a fat little Pekinese
that snored very loudly indeed.
It was quite clearly an Animal Kingdom
where each of its kind reigned supreme.

© MIRIAM JACOB

SUNRISE GLORY

My eyes flutter open
in the predawn hours,
My face feels the refreshing
coolness of the early-morning air.
I catch my breath as I eagerly
gaze out of the open window.
I can see the picturesque lake
across which a sliver of the most
brilliant and eye-catching red
crests the top of the dark forest.
Serene hues of hazy, dream-like lavender,
pretty shades of rose-pink, orange and amber
begin to appear in the soft blue sky,
where a twinkling star sparkles
in almost solitary splendour.
Silver mist rises gently from
the quiet waters of the lake,
All is calm and still.

Suddenly, the rays of a
brilliant sun bursts forth
in ever-glowing radiance
through the silent forest.
The earth begins to awaken
from its peaceful slumber,
as a new morn is born.
A blue heron swiftly rises from
the other end of the lake,
flapping its wings, as it gently
fans its way over the water,
winging its way to distant lands.
The lake awakens at
the melodic call of a loon
to herald the new day.
The soft hues of dawn
turn bright with the
beautiful advent of the day,
as the rich colours of sunrise
soar majestically into the sky.
Swirls of pearl mist rise
gracefully over the lake,
crowning the sunrise
amphitheatre in radiant glory.

© MIRIAM JACOB

TREASURE TROVE

All of us have our own
private keys to the jewelled
world of the distant past,
a glorious treasure trove
filled with pieces of flotsam,
glittering like exotic mountains
to entice us into a world of dreams,
exquisite ivory paper knives
delicate ebony carvings,
dazzling silver trays,
priceless samovars,
Venetian goblets,
ostrich-feather fans,
a world of opulent elegance
at our fingertips,
vaguely bordering on
the wonderful shadowland of dreams,
a magical moment to crown our lives,
adding a glowing ambience
to the existence of reality.

© MIRIAM JACOB