Wednesday, May 28, 2014


Laughter was your color
and joy, your song

There was music in your heartbeat
and beauty came of the things you touched

whether ivory or floral
or gardens of plenty

You made everything sing
the glory of God

You listened more than you spoke,
gave more than you took

Blessed those around you
with gentle grace and encouragement

Dancing and singing
How great is our God

Now, your true dance begins
where beauty abounds

and as Mike said,
‘you will feel at home there.’

patricia spreng

Friday, November 15, 2013


When the world says hang on,
and God says let go...
let go.

When the world says let go,
and God says hang on...
hang on.

patricia spreng

Tuesday, November 12, 2013


please wait for me
to fall fully

reveling in wonder
bursting in that for which
I’ve waited

your chill can wait
until my color comes

and drinks fully
of the fall

patricia spreng

Joining with d'verse poets where you will find the wonderful words of poets.

Saturday, November 2, 2013

This Way

Maybe our path
is already paved with gold
and we don't see it
but for the cold, gray
grindstone before us.

Trudging through the muckity muck,
our headstrong self
doesn’t really know it all
after all.

Lift up your eyes
to higher ground,
grab your boots and
get out of the Way.

patricia spreng

Do not call to mind the former things, or ponder things of the past. For, I am about to do something new. See, I have already begun! Do you not see it? I will make a pathway through the wilderness. I will create rivers in the dry wasteland.  Isaiah 43:18-19

Thursday, October 31, 2013

Difficult Psalm

I loathe the times I cannot write
precisely when
I need to,
but it won’t come.

My words escape my pen
crumple my paper
and mock me.

Emotions wrought bring silence,
not one word profound
though passion flares with prayers.

I beg You to stop

cancer riddled blood cells
daughters tempted by rebellion
beautiful breasts attacked by cancer
and mother's suffering to breathe.

To roll up my sleeves
and nail these to simple words
hardly does them justice
let alone, cure.

I swim upstream
and my words
spawn nothing.

But to you, oh Lord
I swim.

patricia spreng

(fix my eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of my faith....  I will let him do the writing.)