each sunrise sees a new year born
New Year’s Morning Helen Hunt Jackson (1892) Only a night from old to new! Only a night, and so much wrought! The Old Year’s heart all weary grew, But said: “The New Year rest has brought.” The Old Year’s hopes its heart laid down, As in a grave; but trusting, said: “The blossoms of the New Year’s crown Bloom from the ashes of the dead.” The Old Year’s heart was full of greed; With selfishness it longed and ached, And cried: “I have not half I need. My thirst is bitter and unslaked. But to the New Year’s generous hand All gifts in plenty shall return; True love it...
Read Moreringing out the old, ringing in the new
In Memoriam [Ring out, wild bells] by Lord Alfred Tennyson Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky, The flying cloud, the frosty light: The year is dying in the night; Ring out, wild bells, and let him die. Ring out the old, ring in the new, Ring, happy bells, across the snow: The year is going, let him go; Ring out the false, ring in the true. Ring out the grief that saps the mind For those that here we see no more; Ring out the feud of rich and poor, Ring in redress to all mankind. Ring out a slowly dying cause, And ancient forms of party strife; Ring in the nobler modes of life, With...
Read Morechristmas eve: mary’s immanuel
Unto us a child is born (Isaiah 9:2-7) Sweat begins to form on her forehead, her breath coming faster and faster, her heart beating faster and faster, her pain coming faster and faster. Young and inexperienced, weary and frightened, alone and ill-prepared— she shudders as labor begins. …there will be no more gloom for those who were in distress… Hands strengthened from his trade now ache from her grip as she wrestles with her discomfort, wrestles with her apprehension, wrestles with her body. …you have increased their joy, they rejoice before you… Waves of pain overcome her— waves...
Read Moreyou tell me
I asked God for strength that I might achieve. I was made weak that I might learn humbly to obey. I asked for health that I might do greater things. I was given infirmity that I might do better things. I asked for riches that I might be happy. I was given poverty that I might be wise. I asked for power that I might have the praise of men. I was given weakness that I might feel the need of God. I asked for all things that I might enjoy life. I was given life that I might enjoy all things. I got nothing that I asked for, but everything I hoped for. Almost despite myself, my unspoken...
Read Moremore six word memoirs (a contest entry)
She Reads is offering a scholarship opportunity to She Speaks, as well. All entrants must tell their story in six words. As I’ve already played around with the six word memoir, this was right up my alley! Here are a few I whipped up today: Waiting for light to turn green. Words flow unbidden from unseen source. Picking up pen instead of fork. Music makes the heart grow fonder. Struggles to stay in the moment. Forty looks a lot younger, now. Wishing for bright blue September skies. Sincerely suspects kitten is demon possessed. And my personal favorite and official...
Read Moresong
By the time I was my daughter’s age, I’d been singing in a choir for at least six years. I contemplate this as I watch her make corporate music with her classmates today—praying that similar seeds of interest and affection would likewise get lodged deep within her ready heart and take root. Their voices are sweet, innocent, self-conscious. How long until she learns to sing with abandon, I wonder? How long until she discovers the thrill of giving herself over to the experience? How long until her joy in the glorious moment overpowers her fear of what other people think? I...
Read Moreode to lysol
Gold colored can of foul floral scent,blast through the air and make your descent— on pillows, on blankets, on bears and on beds, cover them all until all germs are dead. Hover and linger, alive in the air, gobbling it all until nothing is there. Ridding my home with your magical power of this plague that makes everyone puke on the hour. Scour and scourge until all trace is gone, restoring our health by the breaking of dawn— Cleanse us of sickness, we humbly pray, for I MUST be to work on the very next day.
Read Moreworking the soil
(wrote this the last morning of my retreat as i watched robert, my new parish farmer friend, prepare the ground for planting. it is both metaphorical and literal. you may interpret it whichever way you please…) Clay is not the best soil within which to plant seeds. Dense and unyielding to the touch of mere hands, it resists all advances, rebuffs all attempts to turn and till. And yet, the gardener toils on– the back-breaking work of redemption, worked clod by heavy clod. Overturning that which is on the surface (revealing how shallow are its roots), the earth is laid...
Read More>more blue skies
> Wrote this over the summer on a long, sunny drive. Thought it was fitting for today. Green upon green upon blue upon green, Spreading wide and long and high and deep. What touches the earth, reaches the sky, Bringing heaven within reach. Spreading wide and long and high and deep— Fruited branches ride the breeze, Bringing heaven within reach, Rooting peace in the soil of my soul. Fruited branches ride the breeze— What touches the earth, touches the sky, Rooting peace in the soil of my soul… Green upon green upon blue upon...
Read More>a few of this weekend’s scribbles
>I’ve been meditating on a passage out of my devotional entitled A Song at Midnight. I wrote this in response a few nights ago… night vision you speak of blessing,insist you are near at handwaiting for my call but i am hoarse fromcalling, all to no avail–you do not come near promises kept ornot kept–i know not the truth–blind eyes do not see fresh revelationthough the midnight hour is dark…i welcome your sight
Read More
About Me
Subscribe
