While I may (or may not) agree with everything said here, I do love the poetry.
via Will Samson
Poem: Mary Oliver: The Vast Ocean Begins Just Outside Our Church: The Eucharist
11 October, 2006 at 9:01 pm (General)
Tags: church, General, mary-oliver, poetry
From The Writer’s Almanac a few weeks back.
The Vast Ocean Begins Just Outside Our Church: The Eucharist
Something has happened
to the bread
and the wine.
They have been blessed.
What now?
The body leans forward
to receive the gift
from the priest’s hand,
then the chalice.
They are something else now
from what they were
before this began.
I want
to see Jesus
maybe in the clouds
or on the shore,
just walking,
beautiful man
and clearly
someone else
besides.
On the hard days
I ask myself
if I ever will.
Also there are times
my body whispers to me
that I have.
What Can Samantha Do?
4 October, 2006 at 9:54 pm (General)
Tags: General, poetry, samantha, school
Samantha, Samantha, what can you do?
I can swim a race. Can you?
Samantha, Samantha, what can you do?
I can pick a flower. Can you?
Samantha, Samantha, what can you do?
I can read a book. Can you?
Samantha, Samantha, what can you do?
I can write a story. Can you?
Samantha, Samantha, what can you do?
I can tickle my Daddy. Can you?
(This was part of Samantha’s Language Arts lesson earlier this week. She was re-writing an existing poem that she read earlier in the lesson. I walked in the door for lunch as they were finishing up, which probably had an impact on the end. Now, I’m posting it before Kerri does.)
Poem: To the Great God of Heaven
30 August, 2006 at 10:05 pm (General)
Tags: General, poetry, psalm
To the Great God of heaven,
to the Almighty God of Earth:
I call out in my shame.
my heart cries out for mercy.
Though I have strayed from Your law
You will restore me.
You will renew Your covenant to me
and restore my life to me.
You will have compassion on Your son;
on Your repentant child You will pour out Your grace.
Why will You remember me?
Why will You hear my call?
Not because I have brought You pleasure,
for I have forsaken Your law.
I have turned from it day and night
looking to my own ways and the ways of men.
Not because I have stood bravely for You.
I have run from my enemies and cowered in fear.
I have hidden Your Glory under my shame;
I have kept silent before Your accusers.
Why, then, will You remember me?
Why will You hear my call?
Because of Your unfailing love,
Your unending faithfulness.
In Him I am chosen;
In Him I live.
The blood of Christ covers me like a blanket.
His righteousness like dew on the morning grass.
You do not hold my sins against me.
You do not remember my iniquity.
Poem: Short Break
10 August, 2006 at 8:35 pm (General)
Tags: august, free-verse, poetry, summer, Writing
In the long days of August
The plants grow
And we slow
Frozen by the heat of summer sun
Honey memories
Of car trips to grandma’s house
Are slowly sipped with sweet tea
As sweat runs down the side of our glasses
And our cheeks
We breathe in still air
And slowly rise into the clouds
Caught in the web of a mid-afternoon nap
While the children dance in the sprinkler
Toes and water droplets pitter-patter
Splash on the steamy concrete
Poem: There Once Was a Bald Man from Dayton
10 August, 2006 at 1:21 pm (General)
Tags: baldiness.com, limerick, poetry, Writing
It’s over at one of my other blogs, Baldiness.com. I think that’s my first limerick in 20 years.
Sweetest Moon of Fairest June
28 July, 2006 at 11:25 pm (General)
Tags: june, moon, poetry, summer, Writing
Sweetest Moon of fairest June,
I watch thee as ye shine
Amidst the sun that is not done
At this the Solstice time.
Orb so pale, a-lit so frail,
Robbed of night to play;
Defiantly refuse to flee
And sneak in on day.
Leave stars behind in summertime;
The night is theirs for now.
The bold blue sky is yours to try
‘Til farmer comes to plow.
For half-score weeks Night’s Orb speaks
and warms the souls of men.
When Autumn comes, she’ll be done
and dwell in dark again.
Holy Sonnet II
7 July, 2006 at 9:21 pm (General)
Tags: holy-sonnet, poetry, Writing
Oh, would that I, my own name rejecting,
Be called upon to serve You ever more.
Such toil, indeed, is beyond my reck’ning;
The most arduous tasks, they be not chores,
For the sweat of labour, it does turn sweet.
I, Thy bidding, do only all my days,
And though my muscles ache, I am not weak;
Thou dost grant me life by Thy merest gaze.
Dwelling at Your side, waiting at Your feet,
Would fill my measure, making life complete.
(Don’t bother looking here for Sonnet I. I wrote it, lost it, and have only been able to recall the first line. So, I’m reserving a spot should I ever find or remember it.)
Poem: For Those in the Midst of the Ordinary
12 July, 2005 at 7:01 am (General)
Tags: Feeling, poetry, sonnet, Writing
I’m up early, having given Luke a bottle, and I thought I would try to blog before heading off to work. It’s not turning out to be so easy. I’m out of the habit, and I don’t feel like I have anything to say. Life has not been particularly eventful (trip to the hospital aside), but it has been full: Full of children, family, work, and home. Full of the ordinary. Those occasional moments of emptiness have made way for a crossword with Kerri, not blogging.
Not that I feel bad for any of this. It is, however, a bit odd. I look back, and I know my mind has been turning. I’ve been reading and thinking. I just don’t have anything to show for it here. (At least not now.)
I know what I’ll do. I’ll offer a prayer and a poem:
For those in the midst of the ordinary,
Those whose days are bound up in the mundane,
I have neither the wisdom to explain
Nor pow’r to alter. With you I tarry.
With you I sit. Common scenes pass our eyes,
and well-worn phrases pass between our lips.
‘Tis same, walking this path of many trips
‘Til sun sets. And when ‘morrow sun does rise,
We walk and speak just as we did before,
Common days and common lives lived once more.
RCL: Year A: Fourth Sunday of Easter
15 April, 2005 at 10:45 am (General)
Tags: Abiding, holy-sonnet, poetry, Writing
[This week's Lectionary readings]
Holy Sonnet VI
Oh, would that I might harken to your voice,
Coming swiftly when you call for your sheep:
My fear subdued; my doubt assuaged; the choice
Of path made for me. In dark night you keep
Me safe; your side, shelter from storm and beast.
And should I wander to some far off place,
You, with purest sight will seek me, the least
of your flock. Drawing near you give glad chase.
Back home I rest peacefully in cool shade
Lapping living water, munching sweet jade.
