new location

I have a new blog space that I hope you will visit. Much the same as this one, just a continuation, it is called
Tracy Woodruff (more) Words and Imagery.  I hope you'll visit often. Thank you for your interest and patience.
Tracy
http://tracywoodruffmorewordsandimagery.blogspot.com/

technical difficulties

Much is on my heart to post, but I have encountered technical difficulties, and my pictures are not able to be seen.  I will post again as soon as these issues are resolved.  Thank you for your interest and your understanding.

Tracy

A Door Was Open

Some days hold sweet surprise,
and imagery presents itself
to longing eyes.
Words of old,
long since spoken,
arise
from the place
they have been written,
forever etched upon the heart.
Vision and understanding
awaken,
afresh and anew.
A new song's melody begins,
and heart soars.


After this I looked and behold, a door was open in heaven; and the first voice I heard was like a trumpet speaking with me saying, "Come up here and I will show you things which must take place after this." Immediately I was in the Spirit; and behold, a throne set in heaven, and One sat on the throne. And He who sat there was like a jasper and a sardius stone in appearance; and there was a rainbow around the throne, in appearance like an emerald.
Rev. 4:1-3

Mist

Sometimes I watch the movement of mist
in this haven of blessing.
It is like an elusive vapor,
providing coolness and nurture
to my plants,
and to my heart.
And in the time it is needed,
it does it's good and intended work.

...a mist went up from the earth
and watered the whole face
of the ground.
Gen. 2:6

Balance

One-So-Small,
feeling more than tall this day,
sits,
pondering.
His vantage point is one I covet,
not too far to the left,
or to the right.
He has found balance
in his stillness.

Maybe I have just to be still a little longer.

Happy Mother's Day

On this day before Mother's Day, I find my-
self thinking of my own Mom, and the many
things that make her so special to my heart.
I don't always write those things for all to
read, but yesterday my heart was full in
remembering her voice, blended in beautiful
harmonies of "The Old Rugged Cross", and
"In the Garden". Tears and blessings flowed,
and little Mamoo delighted in her children's
God-given gifts. In all the memories from my
childhood of my Mom and her family, it is one
of the most dear. I wondered exactly what it
was that touched me so deeply? Adult children
singing for their Mother? The love and laughter
that exploded, as they sometimes chided each
other? A picture of a loving family? Yes, it was
all those things, but there was more. My heart
knows that music and words touch deeply. They
by-pass intellect and go straight to the heart. And
I realize now, even in writing this, it was their tears
that touched me. Those singing were ones I love
and admire and look up to, as those to emmulate
and draw from. In their tears I saw heart-felt
emotion for the love of family, for the joy of the gift
of song, and for the words and the Story that went
deep. My Mom and her family are those that touch
hearts with their own hearts of love and caring. They
share words and stories that go deep. They are those
who share songs of the One's heart I so see in them.
Those tears and that beautiful picture of Love touch
me still. It is the very thing I want to emmulate.

Garden Wonder

There is a little ornamental plaque in my
garden that expresses much of why it is a
place of joy to me.  It says, "To cultivate a
garden is to walk with God".  I am not a
farmer, or even a great gardener. To look at
my yard is to see dandelions and weeds that
have crept in.  But there is something in those
words that go deep in my heart.  And because
I'm a wordgirl, I look them up.  "Cultivate", in
modern vernacular, means two very different
things.  To a farmer, or from a gardening per-
spective, it means "to loosen or break up soil;
to prepare land; to tend and to nurture."   In
contemplating a garden, most of our thinking
is focused on  soil and seed. But there is another
dictionary meaning from the verb that says, "to
develope an aquaintance or intimacy with someone,
as we cultivate relationship."  I've thought about
both meanings, and I've come to realize they both
apply, from our Heavenly Father's perspective, to
what can be accomplished in our garden, and in the
garden of our heart.  Fallow ground is broken,
and seed sown, that new life may spring up, if
we partner in the work to be done.  And if we are
diligent and persistant, there is a fruit of our labor,
produced both in the natural garden, and in 
our heart's garden.  I think of the beautiful old
hymn that my Mom and her brother's and sister's
used to sing to my grandmother. Those sweet
words still speak to me, as I remember them.  "I 
come to the garden alone, while the dew is still
on the roses, and the voice I hear falling on my ear,
The Son of God discloses.  And He walks with
me, and He talks with me, and He tells me I am
His own.  And the joy we share as we tarry
there, none other has ever known."  That is what
my little plaque speaks to my heart about, as I
come into the garden.  It is about so much more than
cultivaing the earth, that the beauty of flowers and
richness of soil can be enjoyed.  It is about my longing
to cultivate deeper relationship, as I meet with my
Beloved.

And they heard the voice of the Lord walking in the garden.

Gen. 3:8


In the Garden, C. Austin Miles
Copyright 1912, renewal 1940
The Rodheaver Company, owner
All rights reserved.

Fire and Ice

There are times I feel I cannot get close enough
with the lens of my camera.
I want to go deep,
seeking all that is there to be seen.
In that flicker-moment, I see
Fire and Ice,
Golden Oil flowing,
Light and Glory,
and my senses overflow.
Colors ignite euphoric,
other-worldly vision,
and forms awaken
new thought and understanding.
I revel in
both what is seen within,
and what is felt.
Elation blankets my soul.
And still,
this Beauty is not enough.
I want to see
the face of God.


So Jacob called the place Peniel, saying, "It is because I saw God face to face, and yet my life was spared."  Gen. 32:30


My Best Shot Monday-  A macro view of an almost tulip-like orchid that graces my home.
Also enjoy Tracey Clark's My Best Shot Monday and other entries.

Reflected Light

The Son's Reflection
illuminates trees,
and defines silhouette forms
against Dawn's sky.
Window shears permit
warm, soft Light
to bathe my place of rest.
Light,
not incandescent,
but Divine,
shines.
Intense, Reflected Light
defines,
and now I see
the shadows
within my room,
and within my heart.
Reflected Son's Light
shown from afar
that I may truly see.


The heavens declare the glory of God and the firmament shows His handiwork. Day unto day utters speech and night unto night reveals knowledge. There is no speech or language where their voice is not heard. Their line has gone out through all the world. In them He has set a tabernacle for the sun, which is like a bridegroom coming out of his chamber, and rejoices like a strongman to run its race. Its rising is from one end of heaven, and its circuit to the other end; and there is nothing hidden from its heat.

Psm. 19:1-6

Angelic One

Ones-So-Small,

curious by nature,

have paused

to see

Angelic One,

regal

in her beaded finery.



Hands raised,

head bowed,

her crown and wings

are glistening in the sun.

Some One new

in Garden's home

has given place

to wonder.


Ones-So-Small

stand watch,

as though they know

some things are worth guarding.

To preserve Beauty

will require

those stationed at their post.

And so they stand.



My Best Shot Monday from this week. Enjoy Tracey
Clark's post and links at http://traceyclark.com/blog/

Nurture and Nutrient Poured Out

On gray days
when soft breezes blow
and the air is cool
a mist can be felt,
and the Dew of Heaven lays thick
on thirsty plants.
Reflection is seen
in tiny water droplets,
and also stirred deep within me.
I know there is
nurture and nutrient
poured out.
My heart smiles,
and my soul drinks deeply.
Thank You, Abba.

Out of Loss Can Come Gain

My garden is sprinkled this spring with cerulean
and blue-grays that paint our Jays in numbers we have
never seen. Migrations gather in flocks of two hundred or
more, as they move from North to South. Many have
found a tranquil resting place in our garden, content to
feed and bathe together, sometimes thirty or forty strong.
And because of it, our eyes have seen something new, even
in the familiarity of our little garden. We watch our beloved
song-birds defer to these blue-gray giants, and see that they
feel the impact of their presence.  But they wait. They know
the importance of waiting.

Our Blue Ridge Parkway is much the same this spring. What
was a familiar vista has been impacted by winter's severity.
Our eyes see the devastation of what is new and different in the
carnage of fallen trees and broken limbs. We know that our
feathered friends feel that impact, as well. We empathize,
as we loved the stateliness and beauty of the trees that were
their homes. Once again, we see someting new and different,
even in what has been familiar.

We look and wait until our eyes and hearts adjust.  As we ponder all
that has been, we begin to see a Cross in the wood. Slowly remembrance comes...
out of what appears to be loss can come gain. New nests
will be built, migrations will move forward, and new growth will spring forth.

And we will grow in the wait, even in the change.


Enjoy Tracey Clark's My Best Shot Monday post and links at http://traceyclark.com/blog/

Heaven's Dew

Heaven's Dew, droplets formed
covering that which has bound.
Raidiant water
dropped down
on barbs
once felt sharp,
dark,
and cold,
now adorned
with Life-giving
Beauty.

Is this a heart
framed in the lens
of my camera?

Morning's Song

When dawn is breaking
and the Dew of Heaven has fallen,
a song can be heard that birds
and only a few others know.
It is sung in unison and harmony
with such sweetness
that it reminds hearts
the day is new
and tender mercies are fresh.
Let your heart listen to its sound.
Abide awhile...
it will soothe a thirsty soul.
It will bring you peace.

Colors of Spring

The softness and colors of Spring speak,
whispering gently of Life,
and Hope,
and Joy,
to hearts that look to Beauty for a smile.

Spring's colors bring remembrance of giddy laughter
birthed in breezes of childhood runs,
eyes closed, coolness touching pink cheeks.
This is the gift of Spring,
to know its colors have painted our heart.




My Best Shot Monday-  Weeping Cherry, always a favorite in my spring garden.
Enjoy Tracey Clark's My Best Shot Monday and entry links at http://www.traceyclark.com/blog/

Cut to the Heart

Ours was a winter of yet another severe
pruning in the High Country. It has felt to
be a time of progression, each year building
on the one prior, in all that has been stripped
away. Driving the the Blue Ridge this spring
shows striking evidence of this year's increase,
as winter's ice storms and high winds laid bare.
My camera found this to be a perfect depiction
of what we have seen in the natural, echoing
what I know to be true in the Spirit. God is
cutting to the heart, graciously showing us what
in our lives needs to be pruned and cut away. It
is an act of His grace, revealing what is there,
hidden in the depths, where only His Light can
illuminate. It is not beautiful, and as I have cried
at the sight, driving our beloved Parkway, I have
cried also at what I have seen in my heart. Repentant
tears allow remembrance, and the message of Easter
Resurrection stirs anew. His gift of redemption
and renewal through a single sacrifical act of Love.
With a grateful heart, I lay all at the foot of the Cross.

A Soft Spring

Cold has turned to cool,
colorless to color,
and sun lingers.
Newness is birthed
in the earth.
There is softness in new things
like baby lambs,
and spring rains.
It brings a softness
to our heart
and
hope rises again
for what has not been.
It is a time of new beginnings.
It is a time for new birth.

Finding the Cross

One of the greatest joys of my summer is
to walk a sandy shore, drinking in the sun
and sea air. As soon as I walk over the
dunes and onto the wet sand, any care or
worry that I might shoulder floats away with
the sea breeze. My childhood smile is
instantly restored, my creative thoughts
bubble over, and I make sure I bring lots
of sunscreen, so that I can linger.

On such a day one summer, I found myself
walking the beach at a leisurely pace, camera
in hand. I was drawn by geometry, cast
shadows, and strong lines. There was some-
thing that intrigued me in the distant scene
as I approached, though it was admittedly
not what typically draws my eye. The
weathered wood and stone left clues of what
had once been, fencing, old pileons, rope, and
debris all gathered together, telling a story.
I would not realize which story until my printer
jetted out the day's images.

My heart and eye have come to look deeper
than what is on the surface, that new vision
and perspective might come. It is much like the
art exercise of turning a reference upside-down,
so that you are forced not to draw what you know,
allowing your eye to see a new way. This day, I
saw much. As the image appeared, I saw the
Cross. I saw those who stood and watched below.
I saw His face. In that nano-second, when the
printer ink was still wet, I saw Jesus as I had
never seen Him before. It pierced my heart.

Today, I remember that image, which still cuts
deep. I will never, ever forget what He
willingly suffered, that we might be with Him
eternally, and I rejoice in His resurrection on
this Resurrection Day.

Banquet Table

Warmth and wonder
outside my window,
color and Beauty that surround
an unlikely table,
made on a whim.
A new pond was dug,
and a found treasure-rock became a lid
on table's base of fallen tree.
I like the idea of fashioning Rock and Tree together,
merged as One.
This table, plain to some,
feels fit for fine dining to this heart,
a place for a banquet
with a King.

Breath of Life

Yesterday One-So-Small,
flying tandem,
suddenly stopped at window's pane.
Frantic stress-pants heaving,
Tandem Partner coming alongside
One-So-Still.
I held my own breath,
praying that Breath of Life would exhale
a gentle breeze.
"Lord, You alone are able."
One-So-Small
quietly rested,
waiting
for time of flight.


It is written, "I believed, therefore I have spoken." With that same
spirit of faith we also believe and therefore speak, because
we know that the one who raised the Lord Jesus from the dead
will also raise us with Jesus and present us with you in His presence.
                                                                              2 Cor. 4: 13,14

Shades of White

I bend
to look within
where shades of white fall soft,
and fragile Beauty grows wonder in my heart.

The works of Your hand
made visable to longing eyes,
revealing and reflecting Radiance and Light,
even on barren ground.

Early One given,
Crocus beautiful,
that Promise is not forgotten.

Tunnel vision

Our North Carolina Mountains are smattered with beautiful
tunnels, cut through stone, that a scenic drive might be
enjoyed along the Blue Ridge Parkway. Memories from my
childhood are filled with imagery and remembrance of what
it was like to my little girl eyes, anticipating those tunnels
when we traveled. I can still feel the excitement of rolling
down the window to hear the sound of my voice echo inside
the tunnel, as we made our way up the mountain from the
heat of the flat lands. I loved feeling the cool mountain air on
my face, nearing my grandparent's house. It all embossed
sights, sounds, and smells on my memory that are still there.
Inside those tunnels, my curious eyes strained to see form and
shadow made by passing car lights and the glow from the
intermittant low-level lighting on the tunnel walls. It was all
very ethereal to young eyes. Sometimes I could see a darkened
figure along the wall, walking on a specially made sidewalk,
behind a protective rail. There was much that was new and
different and unknown. As we drove, it seemed miles up ahead
to this little girl's thinking, watching and waiting to finally be able
to see the light through the opening beyond. And then, suddenly,
it was there. Smiling, I felt like a little mole, waiting for my eyes to
adjust to all that was there to see.

I think of those tunnels now with new perspective and new
understanding. I search them out, even on hikes near my
now-home, near the Parkway. I like what they represent to my
heart. I think of how much they are like our life journey, speaking
to that which is anticipated and delightful, and also to that which is
unknown and not seen. I have learned to love the journey. I know
it to be the graciousness of our heavenly Father to have prefaced
what I face as an adult with precious childhood memories, embraced
then, that all that is new and different, unknown and unseen might
be embraced now.  And now each time I move through a tunnel
I smile confidently, knowing that Beauty and Light await.

Night Watch

I rise before the dawning of the morning
And cry for help;
I hope in Your Word.
My eyes are awake through the night watches.
That I may meditate on Your Word.

Psm. 119:147,148

Treasure

Harshness of winter has past,
and a resulting pruning still lays
on my garden floor.
There is much to be cleared and tended,
but as I work, I drink in blue sky and sun,
and my heart is warmed.
My thoughts are on treasure.
There is treasure seen, waiting to bring newness and life,
still standing
among the devastation of fallen comrades.
Trees that will be again,
buffers from the wind and cold,
homes for those to rest from flight.
Seeds of treasure, containing purpose and substance,
and God-given design.
And in that way, we are like trees,
the very planting of the Lord,
wonderfully fashioned by His hand,
containing purpose and substance, by His design.
And we are a precious treasure to His heart.

The kingdom of heaven is like a treasure hidden in a field.
When a man found it, he hid it again, and then in his joy
went and sold all that he had and bought that field.  Matt 13:44

Looking through the fog...

Trees, tall and erect
disclosing little beyond,
but much is there.
Birds trumpet spring songs,
temperatures warm,
and green peeks out from beds below.
First glances deceive,
as that which is hidden awaits.
We see dimly in fog,
even in life.
Only in searching out that which is hidden,
looking beyond,
will we truly see and know and understand.
The season is coming
when our eyes will be opened more fully to
all that awaits.
We will see Beauty.
We will know ourselves to be beautiful,
as we are fully known.


For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part, but then I shall know, just as I also am known.  
1 Cor. 13:12

Until Flight Begins...

The sight of winged beauty
is longed for in not-yet-spring months.
What is exquisitely fashioned by God's hand,
I can only emulate.
With a single gifted rose, an article remembered,
pine needles and twigs gathered,
a child's delight becomes my own.
An emergence, soon to be seen,
seems even sweeter in the wait
as I gaze upon those birthed in longing,
until flight begins.


article - http://www.somersetstudio.com/ july/aug 2007

Blue-black skies...

Day breaks
and a thread of Light
is streched across a blue-black sky.

This day is clean,
hope proclaimed
in a blanket of newly fallen snow.

My heart is stirred
at the sight of paths forged in the snow beneath my feet.
I am reminded of those that have gone before me.

And my choice is made known,
to follow or to forge.
May it be unto Your handmaiden as You have said.

Form and shadow...

Form and shadow
in hues of blue and white,
and crystalline snow.
This heart is reminded of Arctic imagery.
No lions or tigers, but bears abound,
Polar and Kodiak and Grizzly memories,
both real and those sculpted in ice and snow.
Fur Rendezvous and Alaskan de'ja' vu
all bound into feelings of emotion,
touching my senses
and bringing remembrance,
as I gaze on form and shadow.
The Last Frontier,
my former home remembered.
You came and found me there,
amidst the new and unfamiliar.
You revealed new things to me
when I was lost.
Now I am found, still humbled
by Your awareness of what touches my heart.
And now, as then, form and shadow,
heart-pictures from Your hand
to my heart.
Thank You, Abba.