Poetry@ 

Please speak to me in poetry, and let me be your muse. May idioms enlighten and spark upon my fuse. 

May I alight and come alive to go deeper in the method of expression I choose. For me its prose, the written word.

Please speak to me in lyric that I may strum along. Lyrical expression brings life as it's danced. Absolute Percipience, 

Please speak to me in your Art Form. It is time for Creativity’s view. Draw, write, sing, dance, connect to life, and hang on to hope and its truth.

For God gave us these gifts to cope and get through using a craft that releases us into solace—His solace, our expression.

-becky butler

Speak to me in poetry it’s the only language I understand.-wordsby.kris on Threads.

Speak to me in poetry, upon idioms enlightenment, the knowledge alluding to the blessings contained. 

Walking with the Holy Spirit through this world. May we touch lives, may we change ours, may we leave His footprint’s visible in the sand. 

We are desperate for Him. we are a desperate people. we cling, we claw, we crawl to get to our goals. Add Jesus into that equation and see how far the remainder itself takes us. (3.14) it brings us into the infinity of God’s truth, love, and light for us.

-beckybutler

(It is within a childlike nature that God can move the boundaries between our humanity & His divinity.) For the walls of life haven’t yet blockaded the way into the heart. We allow glimpses of possibility here and traces of it there. Permitting perspective within to see, that the impossibilities are possible, and covered in gold dust.)

If you can believe, Faith can be restored, achieved even. Light reaches destiny without hindrance, & outside of limitation. May we grasp the light of the firefly at night. Allowing it to spark and move beyond the mind and it’s plight.

The superpower of understanding is unspoken yet intimated freely. As the average duration of exploring the world: lasts until Twilight. Where those suns rays begin to break free from night to light upon the day. A whole new way.

Becky Butler

Be the Voice....(of Invisible Illness)

We are our own advocate, we are the only one's who can adequately relay what we experience with our physician's and the office calls, or procedural process is the time for us to open our mouth and inform our physician until they get it. 

Make a continual exerted effort to speak your symptoms resolved by medication or surgery and those unresolved, including the side effects of the medications we take, as those alone can cause a whole host of trouble. 

So we must be the VOICE of Invisible Illness, the FACE of Invisible Illness and the ADVOCATE of Invisible Illness by using the only thing we can, our mouth. 

Speak, speak, speak.  We are the patients; the one going through and suffering with dreadful disease. 

A good doctor is one who is open to their patients, listens to them, follows up on what they say, and perform tests and procedures to treat, and identify the cause of our complaint.  

This dynamic changes with us!  It changes through our voice!  Be the change you want to see in the course of Invisible Illness so that others may benefit from the trail you have blazed simply by SPEAKING.....

Speak. 

YOU make a difference.

Becky Butler

Casting trust, individual and unique, timeless in seamless connectivity. 

Crafting the truth of depths distinction. 

Winding a vibrant identity within the leaves.

The seasonal whispers of doubt increase to dismiss, the ambitious balance of our hopes and dreams.

Trickling whispers dangle in truth. Is this a place that I can find you? The inviting abundance of August's Muse, lulled softly in nurtured diffuse. 

Joy unspeakable, lies in the intense spectrum of promise.

Rising to a place of honor, giddy with delight. Per chance to dream, unraveled seeds begin to need. 

Soil, water, nourishment, and protection from the elements. 

First, it must fight it's way into even seeing the light of day.

© Becky Butler

5 Year's Ago….

Part One 5 years ago

Five years ago, I didn't understand how my life would change; for the better and the worse but, ultimately for the best. 

I didn't know the resiliency I would have for life's adversities. I wasn't aware of the joy I have in conversations with three-year-olds. I didn't know five years ago that  I would have to fight to survive, more than once. Five years ago, I didn't see the fortitude I have to make it through something that wanted to take my life more than once.  

I didn't know I'd meet my love, who is so good to me.

I didn't realize that I would be able to let go of people I thought were permanent and more so that I wanted to be permanent. Five years ago, I wasn't aware of the power of letting go of what's not for me, and I didn't know the gift of fighting for the things that are.

 Becky Butler

Part Two-Five years ago

Five years ago, I didn't realize how hard I'd have to fight for a semblance of normalcy. That it would take all I had and then some to get through, and it still bowled me over.  

The only thing I could do was hang on to Jesus. I run after my God, to seek my King, and find Him amid my mess, open arms willing to embrace, to hold and pick me up and take me out of the trenches that I've been in for far too long. 

Five years ago, I didn't understand how I would struggle, and also how every single one of my dreams surpassed my confined mind's goals. I have had to let go of things I desperately wanted to be permanent in my life. But I have learned through letting go of the things not meant for me and letting God that I am where I need to be. In the presence of my Lord.

Five years ago, I didn't know I would put down the gift that I have been graced with and not do anything with it for a few years. I permitted my giftings to go dormant so that I could cope with my reality. I have found that I trust, I need my God and my giftings from Him, to carry me through and to deal effectively with whatever I face. 

Five years ago, I was unaware of how hard it would be to pick up again. But I knew beyond any measure of doubt in my Spirit that I needed to continue in the craft that keeps me. Writing my way through has always been how I achieve.  

I process and confront all that rages against me on the inside. Then I lay it at God's feet and permit Him the place of process and perspective in my life that I may see through His eyes and not my occluded humanistic vision that only sees in part. 

I give my all to the Lord and know that as He's carried me thus far, I will continue until my race is not simply done, but won.

Becky Butler

Psalms 103:12 As far as the east is from the west, so far hath he removed our transgressions 

Regarding being forgiven for our mistakes. God doesn't even remember that about you. He forgot. Completely. And won't bring it back up. Ever. Ever. 

 Forgiveness, is a done deal. No regurgitation. God doesn’t keep bringing it up. Stop punishing yourself. For Gods not punishing you.

God takes my shattered pieces and makes a Masterpiece of my broken places called Mosaic. 

Kintsugi. Where the broken places are sealed with gold, for there is value in our brokenness. God values you. YOU ARE NOT A MISTAKE NOR ARE YOU AN ACCIDENT.  Enjoy life. You are allowed to have life work out for you. You are. And it will. Exhale, it’s  over. As Jesus said on the cross. It is finished. 

Grow your flowers in a place where they will no longer be shattered. 

You can take the broken places. Let God seal them in His love. Alighting them in gold. Gods gonna make that Mosaic for you. Give Him the pieces.  He will create in you and for you, a MASTERPIECE by the Master’s Peace. For you are a Masterpiece, held in His grace.

A MOSAIC. 

Becky Butler

I wanted to say something about this flower. I don't know what it is. It was contained in a packet of my sunflower seeds this past growing season. It magnificently caught my eye. So stunning to find this colored gem amidst all the golden petals and stems. A stunner, there all along. Waiting, ever, always to belong. My wonder and amazement at the ability of the seeds to all blend in, floored me. Oh how we all start out the same. Seedlings, in need of a home and a name. 

Often times when we plant seeds we tend to the soil and the weeds, to keep pristine what will come into being. We don't prepare ourselves oft enough for the gems. The gems of life bursting through, sustaining me and sustaining you. 

The potential, for discernable signs of life becomes ambiguous at this stage in the game. Most of the seedlings look the same. 

But then they are planted and the similarities change. Growing into what they were meant to contain. A tiny seed no longer seen, developing into what it is ordained to be. 

This is how seeds come. In the packets all of one, to be planted and enjoyed, and then call it done. But sometimes, just sometimes, there’s an extra one. That didn't belong, and wasn't as the label said. This bloom had something else in her head. Amongst the towering flowers, she blossomed making her way as the others through. Through the dirt and the mud, there is a triumph that surely was fought for and won. A label, so long ago applied, depicts amiss what is inside. 

Only when we've been planted, can we begin to grow. Amidst the thorn and beneath the glow, of the Sun’s rays for others to show, wherever we are is wherever we grow.

Becky Butler

(Isaiah 61:1-7) The plantings of the Lord shall blossom as trees of righteousness...

(Psalms 92:13-15)  Those that be planted in the house of our Lord, shall flourish in the courts of our God...

(1 Corinthians 3:6-8) I have planted, Apollos watered, but God gave the increase...

Note: The flower is called a bachelor’s button.

God is love. In Him we have a relationship that never fails.

His love for us remains, constant, versus the ebb and flow of our humanity. Perfect, we are not, and do not have to be. Only God is perfect, and we are perfected in His grace. We don't have to earn it.

We need to trust and believe it. We are never alone. We have each other and those close in our lives, not through physical proximity or anything, but who we connect with in life on far more than the surface levels.

The earth's surface decays, but the foundations of the earth, contain VALUE. Treasures precious. Impossible to man, but foundational to God. Emeralds, Rubies, Diamonds, Jasper, Veins of gold, silver, copper. Treasured. As are we. 

God doesn't use pressure to force us into things, but to show us He is continually creating within us a new thing, precious and treasured.

We don't have to earn God's love, it's freely given. We just need in life to be open to healing. Mind, thoughts, emotions, physical, etc. We are the pieces of rock, forged into Gemstones through God's gift of grace. We are always, always cherished in Him. Always. We are the emeralds, sapphire, jasper, with veins of gold, silver, and copper. God created us, He doesn't make mistakes. He loves. He is love. God is love.

Becky Butler

His ability, where mine falls short. To intervene with the divine and change course, direction, and intended destination to something that is above all that we can ask, think, or see. There are no limits on God’s path.

He wants us all to get there. May we be a people who intertwine ourselves with another, forming a tight bond of irrepressible love and support. Legacy. It’s what we build together that matters.

-Becky Butler

Be the Voice....

We are our own advocate, we are the only one's who can adequately relay what we experience with our physician's and the office calls, or procedural process is the time for us to open our mouth and inform our physician until they get it. Make a continual exerted effort to speak your symptoms resolved by medication or surgery and those unresolved, including the side effects of the medications we take, as those alone can cause a whole host of trouble, so we must be the VOICE of CROHN'S the FACE of CROHN'S and the ADVOCATE of CROHN'S by using the only thing we can, our mouth. 

Speak, speak, speak.  We are raised in a society that deems the physician is the expert and we are lay people. While in essence this is true, we are the patients; the one going through and suffering this dreadful disease. A good doctor is one who is open to their patients, listens to them, follows up on what they say, and perform tests and procedures to treat, and identify the cause of our complaint, not to simply dismiss a patient as uninformed and who doesn't know anything about why they are in the office to begin with.  

This dynamic has to change, and it changes with us!  It changes through our voice!  Be the change you want to see in the course of Crohn's, so that others may benefit from the trail you have blazed simply by SPEAKING.....

Becky Butler

The security that comes from being anchored to Love, Himself, carries me. Words are created from within, tinged with the people, things and places we have been. 

As the fingerprints of another impress upon our skin, caressed in the moment and loved within.

Awareness equates victory if we act on it. If we do something with it. If we apply and express it, things change, things shift for the better in our lives, when we raise the bar on our own expectations for ourselves to be support those around us to come up high𝐞𝐫.

𝐁𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐮𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐫

She wanted to impart beauty, vying the magnitude of her reflection. 

She mattered. She was enough, as is, flowing in her gift. No invitations of pretense to stir an otherwise restful afternoon. 

And then she saw it, hazily, as in a dream. The single solitary flower in the midst of overgrown weeds. Snarls tangled in the brush but there it was, a simple flower lighted upon by the Son setting confidence and esteem free.  Free enough to undo the shackles and take a chance at a glorious life.  

As memory cascades the cerebral, we are brought to a place where we have to decide what to stand for in this life. 

The beauty of it is, we don't have to settle.  We are more than enough. Faith brings us into seasons of utter and thorough activation as He shows up in the fullness of His  provision.  

Be you, no apologies for the space that you take up in this life. Own who you are.

A Life lived locked within is Vanity. Empty. Lonely.

Temporal vs. Eternal

Truth be told, 

I pray to be 

Alive again. 

Anguish washes over, 

And floods my soul. 

I can't focus. 

My eyes blur as the constant Cascades consume me. Pain grips tightly, yet in vain. 

Will I take on Victory? 

Will I take a knee?

Both options are ok 

and necessary at times.

Remember, this is YOUR day. Make it what you want, and…

Handle it with Grace.

Becky Butler

Weaving words for absolute healing. Words of life are as a medicine, going into the dilapidated places, breathing new life to dry bone with spoken curative. Soothing deep areas of our brokenness. 

Weave healing within the soul, life-changing healing. With the humility, not to seek credit, but allowing the spoken and written word to grace of life outside of your own, to those who listen.

Many hear, but few listen, rebuffing the lesson. Rebuffing the lesson. To find those who receive in the deep ignites, like nothing else. Those who are always about when our candles near burnt out. 

Again, woven in the twilight. Spoken in the day, deep into the soul, breathing not only life. But new life.

Thanks Becky Butler

“Erased”

The words sat there “erased,” yet the pencil still marked the page. It wouldn’t entirely go away. Those words that held her, held her in place.

The eraser blended the lead in feistied fury, yet the word remained and somehow seemed to grow in meaning. 

The attempt to rewrite that which has marred our senses and ravaged our soul.

Erasers searing words with friction to the page. Deeper and deeper becoming engrained. The word, once it's written, can never be erased. It remains faint, still upon the page.

The original writing always holds its place. 

God covers, creates, and restores using the blank page that He has written, that He has designed as He paid the price of our admission. 

The blank page contains Everything. Anything, and Nothing, all at once. 

Limitless.

Becky Butler

Chance

Propitiously rendered you fair

Fair as night wind 

Your radiance

Has shamed the watchful moon

Into hiding behind some cloud

Under starlight

You start to dance while the world

In abeyance holds its breath

My words like roses

Cast before your gracious twirls

Inadequate to do you justice

Him

———————-

Moonlight Ballet

Like the breath’s necessity for vibrance within the body, so are words that impart life reviving instantly upon escaping the lips. Only words of life exist here. They go forth and accomplish a removing of scales from the eyes for years of misguided trust. When love appears the scales soften and fall off enabling clarity of vision once again. 

Fumbling in the dark not knowing friend or foe, our brokenness is how the light gets in. A humbled expression of need, danced through the tiptoes of the night’s pirouette and arabesque beneath the moon’s shining light where lovers play. Extending themselves to the other breathtakingly free, to sigh in the delights of the night. 

Becky Butler

————————————

TUNNELS

I’m sorry, this is a rougher one today. But the rough times reveal how truly strong we are, and our capability to get through so much more than we dare face if known. Battles are required to be fought, to necessitate the victory, and that I know you carry within you. 

You are a wonderful rally cry for the rest of us and a reminder that strengths may not always physically bound, but Spiritually together we can make it through. Stronger. Misshapen at times, but that’s when prayer, solace and times of healing arrive in the form of friendship, quiet time, to reshape who it is that we are supposed to be; into who it is that God has for us to be. 

We walk through, though never alone. With the purpose of strengthening others, that are currently where you have been. With the certainty of knowing it’s possible, because you walk through trial and get to the other side to reside in triumph. 

There are many tunnels, continual, and never ending at times, but we will make our way through, together. And be able to stand on the side of victory to reassure others who may have just started their particular journey. You are strong, and such a source of encouragement. Love and prayers, Victorious warrior. Remember, one moment, one day, one tunnel at a time.

Becky Butler

A mixed assortment where nothing is alike. Fine chocolates waiting to bey

explored, their taste inside. 

What may surprise you is that when we truly begin to open our eyes. Taste from me what you will and I’ll cleave to you when you provide the flavor and the zeal.

We don't need to remain surrounded by the same, get an assortment of nuts, nougats, creams and fruit, all in heavenly milk and dark chocolate.

The mixed assortment gives us a taste of everything, so that we can find our favorite and what it is we want to our lip to bring.

It also shows us the things that we don't want to have Grace our lips. There are some things that are not palatable, and some things that should not be taken in. 

We find this out through an assortment. If we stay where we are, our own limitations begin to bind. When we are consistently surrounded by the same, we are stunted by what remains. For there is no catalyst to incite change.

We're limited but when we're the only one with our zest and aroma to entice the sweet and and draw out the savory. In this we can shine. We can stand out. We can become someone’s favorite all because we reached beyond ourselves, while remaining who we are.

thanks Becky

Embrace the Dance 

Embrace the dance, profess it’s beauty so that others and you can see it clearly.

Dance with and fully embrace wherever It is you’re happen to be placed. Victory belongs to those who choose to dance through the sorrow and waltz into beauty. 

Take the hand of life and go, twirled upon tips of toes, With a firm grasp in this partnership, and what it means to truly live.

Balanced and poised, not happenstance, but form and choice, your specific stance. Do you embrace life whether it’s against your back, or has spun you lose, it is up to you to choose, to forge this life into art. 

Beginning, first with your outlook, head up, chin down, and don’t allow that lip to frown. For joyous fun and love is one when we are partnered with the right One. Who holds and molds our frame, ensuring that the proper steps in life take place, not by chance or random occurrence. But planned out and for a purpose. 

Passion sets alight the eyes, and life is reflected when there is no guise. Choose not to stay on the sides and simply watch life pass you by. It is easy to ignore the music and stay off the dance floor. But spectators we are not, we live but once, so take a shot.

Wrapped around the profound, the steps we choose do abound. Poise is what is released when we are open to being swept off our feet. 

Balance is required, shoulders back yet relaxed, don’t let each moment tax, but flow freely, completely relaxed. Life is worth every step even when it is we learn and may step upon another’s toes, for this is how we learn and this, is how we grow.

Don’t let the frustration at the beginning, stop you from pursuing. Time and patience is something earned in the process of perseverence each step that’s learned. Set in motion, life can be fun, every experience is one to learn from. Poise and Grace are the result of living our lives fully involved.

Joy can’t help but beam and shine, as we twirl, twist and move, erasing doubt that once bloomed. Take the time to find a groove, embrace this life and choose to dance, taking it by the hand with each step. Continue to always capture the view. 

Choose to be captivated with each step and live a life that leaves you breathless. Ecstatic that you took the chance and chose in this life to begin again to dance.........Becky Butler

My love has gone away, the one i woke up to every single day. No more phone calls to be had, its no longer an option now that you’ve passed. 

I cant believe what took you from me, a drink. A single, isolated, solitary drink repeated countless times throughout the day. My truth is my truth and my story plays out this way. No hiding or pretending no one has issues in this crazy, amazing, awful and awe-filled life. 

Our time ticks continually down the hourglass of eternity, waiting for the moment when the book on our journey has closed and every thought has been gleaned. 

What matters are the embers. Burning hot long after the flame is gone. Beauty for ashes thats what You say, I reach for and trust You, Jesus, in every single day. Lord take our residue and purpose it into beauty and grace. Along the way there are things that we have to face and must confront, death is one. Ive learned alot. 

That life in love does not quit when the ticking of the heart has stopped. I carry you through in all that i do, i pray someday my tears wont be so hot, fresh from the news of knowing you’re not. 

 Ill keep you with me for as long as i am, intentionally, and not happenstance.  Thank you for the gift of embrace and the families of love you helped to raise. Remembered always, you’ll never be erased. ………….Becky Butler

How lovely it is to be continually captivated by life, in spite and despite circumstance. 

To be lucid in dream, ever and always awake along the edge of the fray. Color the edge of your world with grace, fulfill life in the space that you take. Imprints forever impressed, because you are here.

Becky Butler

When was last you remembered me?

The deeds we did upon the sea?

In a war-time country set,

And honour memories, not forget?

For I joined when the call came.

Many of my friends, had done the same.

Our Sydney won her final fight,

But died suddenly on a silent night.

When was last you remembered me

Or my brothers at rest beneath the sea?

When was last my thoughts were yours?

Of heroes made on foreign shores?

Their freedom lost we regained again;

The price we paid was our young men.

In our youth we answered the call

To reduce the might of an iron maul.

Our duty done we rest beneath

A simple headstone, and a flower wreath.

When was last my thoughts were yours?

Or my brothers left on foreign shores?

When was last of my valour you thought?

Of the lonely battles that we had fought?

We battled the air up in the sky

In these machines we designed to fly.

To defeat these men of evil hype

Our weapons were of a different type.

Our coffins lifted by a magicians touch, 

But our ends came by, still as such.

When was last of my valour you thought?

Or my brothers, who like me had fought?

Stanzahero