Awake by Anthony Rivisto /  by Elisabeth Cooper

Alert, to His leading. 

I’m typing to bring lightning 

to the landscape of my slightly sensitive 

heightened residence, 

inviting His precedence to arrive in presence… 

presenting open hands 

with words like pillows 

to rest Your ears, 

smoke stirred up through fragrant tears, 

I am here, 

like fear


…where it should only be placed. 

hungry, pursuing, 

trusting, in faith. 

Your presence comes 

like a warm, fragrant rain. 

Aromatically activating 

all that inhabits this space, 

enacting like grace 

- this is undeserved.


Unrehearsed, 

nor reserved, 

but honestly undone. 

Pausing to shun counterfeit sums; 

religious puns 

with hopes to latch on to speech propelled, 

but the leaking of this compelling 

is telling of projectiles that can’t be contained. 

Exhaling breaths from strained frames 

that have bent to proclaim 

through pains but remained, 

through. 

So, I remain… 

in face of the Purger, 

Who breathes upon my frame, 

inviting a merger… 

My Preserver, 

who brings life to me, 

and speaks right where I deplete, 

to rewrite what I delete 

and recites speech that only He can speak. 

He’s filling my exhaling, 

instilling with each infilling 

the voids I lift up 

like holes in my soul, 

that can no longer evade Him…


This is worship, 

of the King who is higher. 

So, I bring my desire, 

like sparks on kindling… 

I breathe, 

specifically to serve up a fire. 

He in I, 

rising up for my Sire, 

pulled from the mire, 

now planted on the rock, 

dug down from the place 

where He granted that I stop, 

serving my affliction. 

Circling, rehearsing what’s missing, 

in Him, it’s dismissed in 

the midst of forgiveness, 

bore in the sins He took 

and now I witness 

like a recalling of events 

carrying the weight of His imprint.


Humbled by the loss of what I deserve 

and the gaining of what I do not. 

Grace came fully for a sinner 

that was caught, 

unable to soar free, 

now I spring forth like seeds, 

in this journey that He leads 

in each moment of abiding, 

residing in this gliding of His winds, 

and yet brought within His wings. 


So, I sing a redeemed anthem 

that echoes His heart beat, 

like speech given to that hidden 

in plain sight, 

that more might awake, 

and take flight. 


© VISTO 2019


The Music of Stillness by Elisabeth Cooper /  by Elisabeth Cooper

There is a philosophy of progress

Nothing grows in stillness

We must keep moving

Make things happen

Turn the cogs of the wheels of machines

Sweat and toil and churn

To that I say

Go stand in a forest

Let the purposeful stillness

Seep into your bones

Absorb the life in stillness

The progress of rest

For in the silence

There is music

In the stillness 

There is growth

The mighty trees are about their business

Without sweat

With effortless greatness

As they forge in the stillness

They sing

They live

They grow

They stand

Carpets of moss

Ferns with their swords

Wild hearted blossoms

They sing

They live

They grow

They stand

The forest and the wilderness know

The stillness of the mystics

Enfolded and captured

They rest unto greatness

In stillness running with rivers of music

In stillness wrought with growth and strength

In stillness bursting with banquets of beauty


© Elisabeth Cooper 2019

As With Unveiled Face by James Welch /  by Elisabeth Cooper

 As with unveiled face

Continue to hold in your eyes

This glorious grace

Brighter than gold from the skies

This mark upon your heart

Reflected like a gate in your glance

Built with a Master's art

Intended for eternal circumstance

And gates become bridges

Thrones which hold your name

The waves of sound are in your breath

As surely as fire is hidden within the flame

Walk across the span beyond

The horizon is the starting line

Cast off your hindrances

And let your run be redefined

Press fast forward instead of rewind

Be transformed once more

By the renewing of your mind

We take no prisoners because

Freedom leaves no one behind

© James Welch 2019