Short poems for Instagram

A cloudy coastal landscape with ocean waves and green shrubbery, overlaid with the short poem: 'in dread of the storm i slow enough to listen as he says "trust me"'.
A long line of people at an airport terminal, waiting with luggage. The scene is indoors with bright lighting and signs overhead, and overlaid with the short poem: 'these many people are as strangers to me yet all distant cousins.'
Ferry boat sailing at sunset with colorful sky and silhouetted mountains in the background.
A man on a farm herds sheep in a green countryside with rolling hills; a quote about sheep and leadership is overlaid at the top.
A red and pink fallen leaf floating on a dark stream, with the words 'trickle-slow spate-sped flotsam leaf upheld, carried beyond self-strong holds' written over the image.
Open iron gate leading to a lush green park or field, with steps and trees in the background, and an inspirational quote about exploration and taking risks.
A blue sky with a few clouds, a tree with bare branches, and a crescent moon. Text reads: "one newborn cloud is actually the moon wanting to make friends."
A black and white photo of a lone, leafless tree on a mountain ledge, with rugged terrain and a cloudy sky in the background.
An airplane parked on the tarmac at an airport with stairs and service vehicles around. In the background, there are mountains partly covered with snow under a mostly grey alpine sky with some patches of blue.
A rural landscape at sunset with a stone house, large tree, and rolling hills in the background, accompanied by a quote about seed life.
A smiling bald person looking to the right, with a quote about courage on the left side of the image. The quote reads, 'the weakest of us have most opportunity to display courage,' and the person is wearing a black top.
A scenic view of a small town with numerous houses and a church with a tall steeple, surrounded by lush green hills under a cloudy sky. Overlaid text reads: 'across a mile I saw this spire become lightning rod for life’s renewal.'
Crowds of people gathered on a street in London with the Houses of Parliament and Big Ben visible in the background, under a sky with clouds and a setting sun.
A graveyard with weathered tombstones overgrown with grass and weeds, surrounded by lush green trees and rolling hills in the background. The sky is cloudy, and there is a house visible to the left. Text overlay reads: "all flesh is as grass our live-long tales then untold except we have loved."

Built for the Glory of God

Lifted from the ground,
Raised in rows,
Layers of dead stone
Tower to the heavens.
Generations have sensed these rocks crying out in praise.

Some sense too a counter-movement.

Sometimes amidst the chorus,
Often in the silent space,
This spire channels lightning,
Conducts heaven's vision,
Transmits divine joy
Into people and into the land.

All of life can be made new.

Such quickening sparks do not depend
On the age of the roof above,
nor its sufficiency,
But on the newness of the heart inside
and its hunger.

Take heed, my friend.
A greater glory will be revealed.
A storm is coming.