Idea Transcript
December 30, 2013 [https://lovebloomsbright.wordpress.com/2013/12/30/sourceand-ending/] by sarahssm
Posted in photos, poems, quotations 1 Reply
Posted on December 13, 2013 by sophieagrell When duty called him To Jerusalem We had almost ceased Hoping, Our hearts parched As the dusty hill-soil, Our virtue, Our blamelessness A habit, Our love salted With sorrow To be forever Two. He came back Mute, Wild-eyed, Terrifying, So that instinct, Stronger than love, Than reunion, Backed me away Behind my loom. The writing tablet, Thrust roughly Into my hesitant hands, Raved Of incense, Angels, Gabriel himself, Joy for us, A son, The Holy Spirit Outpoured, Elijah reborn, Our son, John. I was afraid, Seeing him maddened By despair’s visions, Until I looked harder, Saw his wild hope Shot with incredulity, To have seen the unseeable, Been offered the impossible, And believed. SIA 11 xii 2013
Posted in poems | Tagged Elizabeth, John the Baptist, Luke Ch 1, poetry, Zechariah | 1 Reply
Posted on December 12, 2013 by Kirstin
Silver beams pierce the night like arrows in flight. It is not dark – there not an absence of light, only a surfeit of perception. A glow travelling through time, through space. Dusting the earth. Lighting on the ordinary, the every day, transforming. Wet washing lines become midnight diamond necklaces, damp roofs sheets of polished gold, cresting waves are dressed with strings of glistening pearls while gentle halos bedeck those the light rests upon. In the light, by the light, focus falls on other things, the light itself all to quickly overlooked discarded, unobserved as it draws our observations to other things. Making all things touched by it the most precious of all.
Posted in poems | Tagged Light, poetry | Leave a reply
Posted on December 6, 2013 by sophieagrell In the dim tent, Its dark hides No longer needed To protect My beauty, My fertility From lascivious eyes, But still my refuge From the fierce light, The yellow sun Beating the earth As my childlessness Battered my soul, I saw three men Appear, Shimmering, Brighter than heat-haze, Until Abraham’s greeting Transformed them Into the simulacrum Of travellers. I baked, The calf was killed For these rare creatures, Visitors to the old man, Patriarch only To a slave-woman’s son, And his wrinkled wife, Her womanhood, Her beauty Dessicated By age and disappointment. Concealed In the dim tent, Sheltered by propriety. I knew it a mistake When the bright stranger Promised me a son And I laughed, Presuming him ignorant Of my withered womb. But suddenly His light Outshone The beating sun, His power A vast shadow In the shadeless day, Piercing My refuge-tent, My heart, My all, As he promised That no wonder Was beyond the Lord And I knew I had laughed at An angel, At the living God. II The majestic Lord, The Lord of wonder, Assured me That my womb Would flower And I laughed In scepticism, In bitterness, In unbelief, Until my fear Struck the laughter From my lips. I knew When Abraham In cautious, Breath-holding love, Began my miracle, But I could not laugh For fear. I tiptoed Through each Weary, aching, Joyful day, Each hour of confirmation, Movement, Flowering Of the child within, Stretching My too-old body, Greedy For my willing gifts, But I dared not laugh For fear. After endless days, Each too short, Too long, I held my living, Flailing, Screaming miracle. I named him Isaac, Because now, All fear assuaged, All bitterness Washed In his birth-blood, I could only laugh.
Posted in bible, poems | Tagged Advent, Book of Genesis, Isaac, Laughter, poetry, Sarah | Leave a reply
Posted on December 2, 2013 by richardjporter
Earth grown old, yet still so green, Deep beneath her crust of cold Nurses fire, unfelt, unseen: Earth grown old. We who live are quickly told: Millions more lie hid between Inner swathings of her fold. When will fire break up her screen? When will life burst thro’ her mold? Earth, earth, earth, thy cold is keen, Earth grown old. Christina Rossetti
Posted in poems, reflections | Tagged Advent, poems | Leave a reply
Posted on December 1, 2013 by sophieagrell The art misleads Across centuries, Its European light, Soft foliage, Pale golden stone A gentler brightness Than the harsh Blue sky The glaring whites, The angular palms Of my human world. I did not sit Blue-clad, Cool, Suspended In passive innocence. Blue sucked colour From my dark skin. In my rose-brown shift, Rough, old, Sweat-soaked By roof-chores Under The relentless sun, I was ambushed By unimaginable choice. The messenger, too, Was wingless. Clothed, yes, Beautiful, But no gorgeous youth. Clad in all-colour, No-colour, Glowing impression More than man. The words, The message, Were as described, Save only That he spoke Not aloud But in the sudden Silence That drowned my heart In fear, Doubt, Bliss, A sword-thrust’s pain, And drove From my soul That all-changing Yes.
Posted in poems | Tagged Advent, Annunciation, poetry | 2 Replies
Posted on December 21, 2012 by Beth Routledge One day you finally knew what you had to do, and began, though the voices around you kept shouting their bad advice — though the whole house began to tremble and you felt the old tug at your ankles. “Mend my life!” each voice cried. But you didn’t stop. You knew what you had to do, though the wind pried with its stiff foundations, though their melancholy was terrible. It was already late enough, and a wild night, and the road full of fallen branches and stones. But little by little, as you left their voices behind, the stars began to burn through the sheets of clouds, and there was a new voice which you slowly recognised as your own, that kept you company as you strode deeper and deeper into the world, determined to do the only thing you could do. From The Journey, by Mary Oliver
Posted in poems, reflections | 1 Reply
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