Praise the Holy One! For from out of man he has created a woman. Woman, to a man is a Thing of beauty, grace, charm, evident of her slow and melodical walk. He is in love with his own mourning, as if she will paralyze him all the way to his death. So where is…
Pen & Ink
Here, I drew and inked my rendition of how I feel and love Native America. I drew this some 12-13 years ago in 2009. I honestly feel this was the best art I have ever created with a pen. I would love to hear thoughts regarding this artwork. Thank you.
TRUST
Tonight I shall be gentle with me. I am not perfect, though I am wonderfully created. I follow scripture when I can. I read and retain A Course in Miracles. I aspire to be honest, trusting, transparent, faithful, and with courage. This is just the beginning for a child of God to aspire, as well,…
Reading Rita Dove at Midnight
Life, never what it appears to be unless one is a poet. I think of you, as I dig deeply into your metaphors, and the communities of the marginalized, the early morning freeze, deadens my fingertips upon this black, icy laptop, frozen as if dead. Your words, alive with the perfume of truth. I learn…
A Quiet Manifestation of Love
I have discovered the perennial wisdom of women supersedes all I learned thus far into deeper places within my heart and soul. In fact, I lay witness to women as my guiding light to Christ and the holiness of the Divine within me. My experience with the Voice at age fifteen (a woman’s voice), loud…
My Life Story in God: A Focus in Prayer
John Gregory Evans Throughout the last 12 years I have pondered upon the good works of the Lord in my life. From early on as I kneeled next to my sweet, loving, mother’s side, she taught me the imperatives for prayer, to this present day as I open my Bible to read the underlying messages of Scripture, I am…
Universal Kinship & Love Endures
To My Followers & Clientele
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Silver Love Poured Tea
Silver Love Poured Tea by John Gregory Evans © 5/17/2020 3:12:52 AM Your smile, breathless, Ponderosa Pines harvested your voice, Kisses that shed an earthly attire, While Sleeper’s and Pullman’s steal the night, yet Silver love poured tea. The moon breathed deep tonight, Stars gathered Inebriated by the broken silence, Only the darkness smiled! Silver…
This Pale Moon
The pale moon can be invasive at times, lighting up my tiny room, to almost a dim freshness of sunshine echoing through. I think, of love who has passed me by, except the silver love and this lunar sky. We share so many nights, why not, and evenings, too, we are together, espoused we two.…
On the Cusp of Blackness’ Ride
Upon the cusp of blackness, we stare, I See a hope clinging to the everywhere, Religiosity is an interior pull Of white corpses Walking, without purpose but to be saved Through the mechanized wheel of Misfortune, where dead bodies aspire to heal. As if a preacher man from the Right Conceals the truth together, tonight…
The Little Boy I Used to Be
The Little Boy I Used to Be By John Evans © 5/8/2020 1:47:50 PM When I was young, say back at five My spirit flew, I was alive. Vacation Bible School And a cherry orchard, walk Along a dirt path The sour taste, but Oh, so good Mother and dad Walked hand in hand I…
John G Evans & Paavo Oso Arts 