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,…

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…

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

Truth as a Child May See ~ Deadened fossils of the past, worries of the future, as opening in the present moment the healing of a suture. Why, must I torture myself? This past thus dead and gone, and the future nowhere to be seen, all that clearly remains is transforming our minds to living…