HAILSTORM
[written for a friend in need]
Hail-storms of hurt-words
Come barreling down;
Warm rays of sunlight
No longer found.
Unexpected and whirling;
Hardened and cold;
Invaded by dark clouds
Angry and bold.
A bruise here, a scar there
Salty rain-tears descend
Lord, strengthen me;
Lead me to the storm’s end.
THE GHOST
by: Charles Baudelaire
OFTLY as brown-eyed Angels rove While I was writing a paper for English I was searching for quotes about eyes, which led me to some poems by George Herbert, which led me to discover this one, which I think is quite beautiful.
Life is overwhelming. Plain and simple. Often we find ourselves consumed by situations and, more than anything else, we just want OUT! It's so easy, when we feel like we're completely surrounded by "yuck", for our prayers to focus on ending suffering or showing us a way out of a stressful situation. And yet, I think sometimes God gives us these tough times in our lives so we can learn just how determined we are; so we can see how much strength and endurance He gives us.
11 Jan 2009
8:25pm
In Search of Truth
“The love of God was made manifest among us, that God sent his only Son into the world, so that we might live through him.”
~1 John 4:9
O truth-seeker
Why do you wander?
Searching for something
You’ll never find?
Inventing a goal
You think might be somewhere
Creating a path
And walking on blind?
Yesterday’s trends
Yield not the answer;
Tomorrow’s hypotheses
Won’t take you far.
You see, truth-seeker
That which you search for
Has long been discovered;
It’s right where you are.
God meets us where we are. It's so important to remember that God isn't some faraway, unreachable being, but rather a close, personal, intimate Savior who is right here, waiting for us. We don't need to look far to find Him, because He's already revealed Himself to us -- through Jesus, through the Bible, through every moment we live and breathe. So often we convince ourselves that we need to find God, that we need to find truth, that we need to find the purpose of our lives. The problem is that sometimes we get so caught up in our searches that we forget about God altogether! We don't need to go searching for the truth or the meaning of life because we've already found it -- it's here, in Christ! How comforting it is to know that God's already given me everything I need to know Him, to trust Him, and to grow closer to Him.
The world will tell us we don't have enough; that we need to go and find more, more, more. And yet, God has given us all that we need; what more could there possibly be to find?
15 Jan 2009
10:15pm
This Is Me
Snowflakes in my hair
Stars in my eyes
Dreams in my heart
Worries on my mind.
Voices in my head
Polish on my toes
Pencil in my ponytail
Freckles on my nose.
Music in my ears
Bracelet on my wrist
Chocolate in my mouth
Tension in my fingertips.
Wandering imagination
Devoted soul to Christ
Tears of joy and sorrow
This is me, this is my life.
*happy sigh*
I really, really, really like this poem. Really.
Grace
Ralph Waldo Emerson
How much, preventing God! how much I owe
To the defenses thou hast round me set:
Example, custom, fear, occasional slow,
These scorned bondmen were my parapet.
I dare not peep over this parapet
To gauge with glance the roaring gulf beelow,
The depths of sin to which I had descended,
Had not these me against myself defended.
After writing the previous post, I'm in a miracle-y sort of mood :)
(Yes, I know, I skipped a week of the poetry series while I was gone. Oh, well.)
I have always loved this poem. Something about the sound and the flow of the words just appealed to me; I like how it moves quickly and...bouncily, or something. I don't know enough about rhythm or meter or any of that fun stuff to try and explain how or why this poem works, but if someone who does know more about it would like to share, go for it!
All I know is I like the sound :)
We are playing host to four kittens for the next few weeks, just temporarily. Trying to name four kittens was an interesting job; eventually we settled on Heckle, Jekyll (the boys), Molly, and Ophelia (the girls). It's kind of an amusing concept, this naming of cats, because it's not as though any one of them will ever answer to their name, like a dog. They've got too much pride, independence and attitude for that! And yet we crazy humans do it anyway......!
The Naming of Cats
by T.S. Eliot
The naming of cats is a difficult matter,
It isn't just one of your holiday games;
You may think at first I'm mad as a hatter
When I tell you a cat must have three
different names.
First of all, there's the name
that the family use daily,
Such as Victor, or Jonathan,
George or Bill Bailey--
All of them sensible everyday names.
There are fancier names
if you think they sound sweeter,
Some for the gentlemen,
some for the dames;
Such as Plato, Admetus,
Electra, Demeter--
But all of them sensible everyday names.
But I tell you,
a cat needs a name that's particular,
A name that is peculiar, and more dignified,
Else how can he
keep up his tail perpendicular,
Or spread out his whiskers,
or cherish his pride?
Of names of this kind,
I can give you a quorum,
Such as Munkustrap, Quazo or Coripat,
Such as Bombalurina, or else Jellyrum--
Names that never belong
to more than one cat.
But above and beyond
there's still one name left over,
And that is the name that you will never guess;
The name
that no human research can discover--
But The Cat Himself Knows,
and will never confess.
When you notice a cat in profound meditation,
The reason, I tell you, is always the same:
His mind is engaged in rapt contemplation
Of the thought, of the thought,
of the thought of his name:
His ineffable effable
Effanineffable
Deep and inscrutable singular
Name.
This post was inspired by a few random thoughts which just happened to fit together quite well...yesterday in church, Pastor mentioned Elizabeth Barrett Browning in her sermon (one of my favorite poets!!!!), and I decided I wanted to use one of her poems for the poetry series today. However, my dear Miss Browning has so many amazing works to choose from, I couldn't decide which to use!....but then I remembered the music meme that's been circulating around many of our blogs, and I thought that I'd spotlight two wonderful poems of hers that focus on music....enjoy :)
A Musical Instrument
by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
What was he doing, the great god Pan,
Down in the reeds by the river?
Spreading ruin and scattering ban,
Splashing and paddling with hoofs of a goat,
And breaking the golden lilies afloat
With the dragon-fly on the river.
He tore out a reed, the great god Pan,
From the deep cool bed of the river:
The limpid water turbidly ran,
And the broken lilies a-dying lay,
And the dragon-fly had fled away,
Ere he brought it out of the river.
High on the shore sat the great god Pan,
While turbidly flowed the river;
And hacked and hewed as a great god can,
With his hard bleak steel at the patient reed,
Till there was not a sign of the leaf indeed
To prove it fresh from the river.
He cut it short, did the great god Pan,
(How tall it stood in the river!)
Then drew the pith, like the heart of a man,
Steadily from the outside ring,
And notched the poor dry empty thing
In holes, as he sat by the river.
"This is the way," laughed the great god Pan,
(Laughed while he sat by the river)
"The only way, since gods began
To make sweet music, they could succeed."
Then, dropping his mouth to a hole in the reed,
He blew in power by the river.
Sweet, sweet, sweet, O Pan!
Piercing sweet by the river!
Blinding sweet, O great god Pan!
The sun on the hill forgot to die,
And the lilies revived, and the dragon-fly
Came back to dream on the river.
Yet half a beast is the great god Pan,
To laugh as he sits by the river,
Making a poet out of a man:
The true gods sigh for the cost and pain—
For the reed which grows nevermore again
As a reed with the reeds in the river.
I think the most fantastic line in this poem is "The sun on the hill forgot to die/And the lilies revived, and the dragon-fly/Came back to dream on the river." LOVE IT!
And here's another:
Perplexed Music
by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
EXPERIENCE, like a pale musician, holds
A dulcimer of patience in his hand,
Whence harmonies, we cannot understand,
Of God; will in his worlds, the strain unfolds
In sad-perplexed minors: deathly colds
Fall on us while we hear, and countermand
Our sanguine heart back from the fancyland
With nightingales in visionary wolds.
We murmur 'Where is any certain tune
Or measured music in such notes as these ? '
But angels, leaning from the golden seat,
Are not so minded their fine ear hath won
The issue of completed cadences,
And, smiling down the stars, they whisper--
SWEET.
I've never seen this poem until today, and I think it's just made itself one of my all-time favorites. The language is so absolutely beautiful; words like dulcimer and sanguine and countermand just give me goosebumps! And the overall idea of the poem...that God blesses the world with such unbelievable beauty that often, our human eyes and ears can't even begin to comprehend it... my favorite part of this poem is easily the end: "And, smiling down the stars, they whisper --/SWEET." oooooooooh....*happy sigh*
....to help conquer writer's block and get the creativity flowing!
1. poemcrazy: Freeing Your Life with Words, by Susan G. Wooldridge
Ok, so it might have originally been aimed at poets or wannabe poets like myself, but in all honesty this book is fantastic for writers of any style or genre. It has wonderful exercises that challenge you to think and explore and is full of anecdotes and examples from the author's own life. My very best friend in the entire galaxy gave me this book for my birthday a few years ago, and it is my all-time favorite book ever. I kid you not; every time I have opened this book I've written something -- not always somethinig good, but it never fails to give me ideas and get me writing, and sometimes that's the hardest thing in the world to do!
2. The Pocket Muse, by Monica Wood
I just receieved this book in the mail today, and am positively in love with it! Again, it doesn't matter what you write -- this book is for you if you've ever suffered from lack of ideas or inspiration. It is a fantastic mix of tips and tricks to make your writing better, stunning black and white photos, lists, ideas, random words to get creative juices flowing, scenarios, characters in need of further development and prompts to get you thinking and writing. AMAZING! And the layout is gorgeous; each page is beautiful and unique and I swear, this book just exudes creative vibes.
3. A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words, by Philip Sexton
Filled with more then a hundred intriguing and interesting pictures, every page in this book has a photo, a lesson about some aspect of writing, an accompanying exercise or two to practice the lesson and simple questions and captions to make you think. The book is divided into sections like "Characters" and "Dialogue", designed to help you improve your writing lesson by lesson. This is incredibly helpful and useful, but I've found that the book is also fantastic just to pick up and page through and pick an image at random. Mix and match the prompts and photos to come up with interesting combinations, and then just write and see where the words take you.
I stumbled across this poem tonight purely by accident and absolutely fell in love with it.
I love the descriptions and the personifications of the beach....I love the calming effect of this poem and how the words just wash over me.
Most of all, I love the title -- Where Angels Rest -- it's like the epitome of beauty, serenity, and glory.
WHERE ANGELS REST
Marcia Schechinger
Cool waves softly stretch
breathing in the wind
Slightly covering
sand's warm body
The tempo rises and falls
as a breeze ascends the waves to shore
with white foam
then swallows them back again
Like a duet they play,
the wind and water
moving in methodical rhythm
harmonious with my heartbeat
Surf sweeps gently as if imploring
for peaceful tranquility
Here, I sit, quietly thinking
this must be where angels rest
(Thanks to my dear best friend for the idea for this post.)
We are supposed to have thunderstorms today. I absolutely, positively LOVE LOVE LOVE thunderstorms.
I have ALWAYS loved thunderstorms. I distinctly remember many times, when I was little, when it would start to storm and my little brother would go running and hide under a blanket and I would go sit by a window and just watch it; sometimes for HOURS. Thunderstorms have always captivated me. I’ve always loved the mystery of them; how they come from no where and last for unknown amounts of time and then disappear slowly until suddenly, you realize that your gray clouds have gone and the sun is shining again, and you don’t even know when that happened.
Thunderstorms are composed of tightly controlled power. A power that roars so strongly that it can shake the very walls of my house; a power that flashes so brightly that it can light up the darkest of skies for miles and miles in every direction. I love the fact that even though something this strong could easily result in disaster, it doesn’t; instead, it makes a lot of noise and lets everyone know how strong it is but in the end, pours down drops of life-sustaining water. I love the intensity of storms. Some people personificate storms as angry, vicious things, but I’ve always thought of them simply as powerful.
Thunderstorms make me think about God, too, which might sound strange, but bear (bare?) with me. I think there are plenty of times when God chooses to act like a thunderstorm. He often comes out of no where; when we least expect it; and does things so strong and mighty and unbelievable that we’re forced to stop and look and think for a minute. He’s got a power strong enough to shake us to our foundations. And He constantly pours down the things we need -- the blessings, the guidance, the mercy -- to survive.
I love thunderstorms :)
A THUNDERSTORM
By Emily Dickinson
The wind begun to rock the grass
With threatening tunes and low, -
He flung a menace at the earth,
A menace at the sky.
The leaves unhooked themselves from trees
And started all abroad;
The dust did scoop itself like hands
And throw away the road.
The wagons quickened on the streets,
The thunder hurried slow;
The lightning showed a yellow beak,
And then a livid claw.
The birds put up the bars to nests,
The cattle fled to barns;
There came one drop of giant rain,
And then, as if the hands
That held the dams had parted hold,
The waters wrecked the sky,
But overlooked my father's house,
Just quartering a tree.
A THUNDERSTORM
Archiband Lampman
A moment the wild swallows like a flight
Of withered gust-caught leaves, serenely high,
Toss in the windrack up the muttering sky.
The leaves hang still. Above the weird twilight,
The hurrying centres of the storm unite
And spreading with huge trunk and rolling fringe,
Each wheeled upon its own tremendous hinge,
Tower darkening on. And now from heaven's height,
With the long roar of elm-trees swept and swayed,
And pelted waters, on the vanished plain
Plunges the blast. Behind the wild white flash
That splits abroad the pealing thunder-crash,
Over bleared fields and gardens disarrayed,
Column on column comes the drenching rain.
What do thunderstorms remind you of?
(Ah, yes; as you can all see I've made GREAT progress on the deciding-on-a-real-title-for-this-series front....)
Week 2! Here we go!
Cloak of Laughter
Abigail Cresson
I wear a cloak of laughter
Lest anyone should see
My dress of sorrow underneath
And stop to pity me.
I wear a cloak of laughter
Lest anyone should guess
That what is hid beneath it
Is less then happiness...
But, ah, what does it matter
To you who are so wise?
My cloak falls tattered at my feet
Before your tender eyes.
For cloaks to cover sorrow
Are meant for stranger-folk
One cannot hide away from friends
Beneath a laughing cloak.
Oh, futile cloak of laughter
How frail you are, and thin!
Love looks through you so easily
And sees the grief within.
I have fallen in love with this poem :) I discovered it in some ancient poetry anthology that I got from the library ages ago and I've loved it ever since!
I thought this poem was particularly fitting, at least for me, this week...I have a very, very, very dear friend who happens to be going through a rough time lately and dealing with a lot. She keeps trying to convince me that she's OK and that I don't need to worry about her, but I know that's not quite true. So, my dear, if you happen to be reading this right now, please just know that I love you and I'm here for you and you can let go of your "cloak" anytime, now.
And if you guys could say a prayer for her, that would be muchly appreciated. God will know who you mean. :)
Hmmm. I've been thinking, lately....I've decided that I'm going to try posting a poem every Monday...I mean, seriously -- what better way to start out your week?! And it might not necessarily be an original poem; they could be well-known favorite poems or perhaps completely unknown poems by random obscure poets that just happen to jump out at me at the time...or maybe something in between. Who knows...I'm still in the brainstorming phase. I'm hoping, though, that this will help me post more regularly and keep things at least a tad bit more interesting around here...
I still need to come up with a name for this little series, though...ideas, anyone? Alliteration is fun but I've already ruled out "Meditative Mondays" (sounds too sleepy) and "Metaphorical Mondays" (has too many syllables) and there aren't any fantastic "p" adjectives to pair up with "poetry"...although, in my defense, it is rather close to midnight and there's a fantastic chance I'm just not thinking straight.
So, seeing as it's Monday (at least, it is if I post this within the next 19 minutes...!), here is the very first entry of...whatever it is that I'm going to name this series.
*ahem*
Sandcastle Promises
Sandcastle promises
Built on uncertain shore
Beautiful to look at
Yet good for nothing more.
Lacking a foundation,
Made up of tiny grains;
Bits of rock soon washed away
Until not a single one remains.
Hopes, once packed together
Now quickly fall apart
These sculptures have no meaning;
They’re momentary works of art.
Their existence is soon shattered
By waves of reality
All my sandcastle promises
Have eroded completely.
So have I based my life
On all the petty things?
Or do I live with purpose,
Does my life have meaning?
Do I believe all that I say,
Am I willing to take a stand?
Or am I simply building
Fragile castles in the sand?
Hmmm.. I was going to post my thoughts on this poem but I changed my mind. How about if YOU guys tell me what YOU think??
As you've all probably noticed, I like to put quotes in my lovely little sidebar over on the right ------>
I look for quotes about dreams, leadership, nonconformity...things that inspire me, things that, I think, say a lot about who I am and what I value. So I was checking out some quotes tonight, and I was looking at a section about leadership and taking responsibility. In my reading, I came across a poem by William Ernest Henley, which ends with these lines:
I am the master of my fate;
I am the captain of my soul.
Now, I've read a lot of poems. But I don't think I've ever read two lines that scared me more then these did. Why? Just think about it for a minute...
First of all, I need to note here that I believe we are all sinners...but let me pause right here. A sinner is someone who commits something wrong; in other words, someone who is guilty of wrong thoughts, actions, or words. I believe that we can try as hard as we possibly can and still, we will sin. Every day. And there's no way around that -- but that's where God's grace and forgiveness comes in (but that's another topic for another post...) Now, I know some you that are reading this probably don't agree with that statement -- the we are all sinners by nature, no matter how hard we try.
Well, then I have to ask you flat out: Are you perfect? (Please be totally honest. You're not allowed to say, "Yes, except when..." or "Most of the time". It's all-or-nothing -- a yes or no question.) If you answered "yes", congratulations -- you are THE first perfect human being to EVER exist! Give yourself a pat on the back! But if you answered "no", keep reading...
The fact of the matter is, whether we care to admit it or not, we have ALL sinned (and continue to sin!)-- over and over and over again! And, whether we like it or not, there is NOTHING we can do about this. We can resolve to do better. We can try harder next time. But we will NEVER EVER EVER achieve perfection (I know. I have a really hard time accepting this too). Despite all the best efforts in the world, we will still succomb to temptation, make mistakes, and take the wrong path.
Are you start to get depressed? I am!! But I promise, there's a point...
Well, are you beginning to see why I find those two seemingly harmless lines of poetry so scary? Here, read them again:
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
Now, if "I" is an imperfect, sinning human being, and "I" is also the master of his fate and the captain of his soul...well, you see the problem.
We can't possibly make the right choice all the time...or even most of the time! There's no conceiveable way that we, as humans (and therefore, sinners) can always know what is best, always choose the right path, always make the right decision, and always turn away from temptation. Therefore, if WE are controlling are fates and souls, and WE make mistakes...!
"For all have sinnned and fall short of the glory of God" -- Romans 3:23
Your soul is forever. I don't know about you, but "forever" is not something that I want to make a mistake on!
And, when you think about it...if we are mastering and captaining (I'm not sure if those are words, but go with it) our soul, our fate...that's a HUGE amount of responsibility!!! I don't know about you all, but I get nervous when I have the responsibility of, say, taking care of class pets (frogs) for a weekend or walking my neighbor's dogs... and that's only for a few hours or days, at most. This is for FOREVER...for ETERNITY...for longer then we can possibly fathom!!
So here is my point: if we as sinners (imperfect, mistake-making humans) consider ourselves to be in control of our souls, where is that going to lead us? Quite frankly, we are going to run ourselves into a wall. Do you honestly and truly trust yourself to control where you will spend eternity? That's quite a risk. Do you honestly believe that you know enough about how to live, what choices to make and what's best for you and the rest of the world to take on that ENORMOUS responsibility???
Well, I can tell you right now -- I DON'T! I know for a fact that I can't handle that. I don't want to. I don't even want to think about controlling my soul or being the master of my fate -- YIKES!!
Thank goodness for us -- there is another option!!
Put quite simply: There is God. God is omniscient. He knows EVERYTHING, and even better, He has a plan for you and me and the rest of the galaxy. He's willing to take the blame for our sins -- in fact, He already has. He's willing to take us as we are -- the sinning, whining, imperfect beings we are. He's willing to take on the entire responsibility of directing our lives, mastering our fates and yes, our souls too. He's willing to lift that heavy burden of the responsibility of eternity from our shoulders and take the entire thing -- if only we'll let Him.
Why is it that we fight God on this? I can't figure it out. This is something I've been thinking about alot lately. Why do I, when I know quite well that I DO NOT know everyhing (sometimes I wonder if I know anything, actually....) and yet from time to time, I get these rebellious flare-ups and I try to insist that I know better then God. Me...that I know better then the One who created the universe and everything in it, including me...ha! And after times like these, I can imagine God sitting up in Heaven, sighing and shaking His head and laughing at my appalling and crazy behavior...It really must be pretty funny, watching us humans try to control our lives and our destinys, but really just making a huge mess of things in the process!
I know I'm sounding redundant here, but this is an important point...I think it warrants repetition :)
In the end, is it worth it? No. Sure, it's fun for a short time; me pretending I'm in control and that I really have a clue what I'm doing...but I always end up learning my lesson and rededicating my life God. I always come to the same conclusion -- that I'm just plain incapable of handling my life. So why even try? It makes much more sense to dedicate it to the One who made me and gave me my life then for me to go about ruining it out of pride and stubbornness...!
It all boils down to this: God knows what He's doing, and we, being the sinners that we are, cannot be trusted with the control of our souls. We can try to wrench control away from God, but it will always get us in trouble. So we need to simply relinquish that control -- which can be the hardest thing in the world to do, especially if you're a control freak like me -- and accept that He is God and He knows what He's doing and where He's taking us.
And it's amazing how simple life becomes after that. It is truly amazing how relieving it is to know that you DON'T have this massive, eternal burden -- that you just have to listen and follow and trust. :)
