Wednesday, July 11, 2012
Wonder ?
i would like to sit with you and sink deep into the day...I am wondering...I do that alot...wonder - Who God is - what He really wants from our lives....i'm writing this now to remind myself to return...the day is new and here sit I on the perch of newness the edgo of the morning calling to the depth of heart and soul and there are a myriad of tasks to perform before the garden can be opened again.
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
Musings from a Fruitful Place
Did I ever tell you – reader – where the line “Musings from a Fruitful Place”
came from? I was thinking – considering the dampness – swampy terrain of my
inner life. It felt – the day this
thought came – like a musty old cellar.
Then I remembered my Grandmother’s cellar on the plans of North Dakota.
It was full of harvested vegetables – differing in each season.
It smelled like damp earth mixed with the pungent aromas of the
cellar’s guests.
It was a very fruitful place.
What had been toiled over and harvested was in a hidden place.
You needed an oil lamp to see your way down.
So – here’s the picture – homily if you will…
There is much harvested and stored in what I sometimes think of
the dank and empty dark space of my life but –
Just like Grandmother’s cellar with it’s dark, musty smells –
My cellar – my holding place is full of fruitfulness – many
things stored to be used for
Feeding and
nurture when the time comes.
Hence – “Musings from a Fruitful place.
came from? I was thinking – considering the dampness – swampy terrain of my
inner life. It felt – the day this
thought came – like a musty old cellar.
Then I remembered my Grandmother’s cellar on the plans of North Dakota.
It was full of harvested vegetables – differing in each season.
It smelled like damp earth mixed with the pungent aromas of the
cellar’s guests.
It was a very fruitful place.
What had been toiled over and harvested was in a hidden place.
You needed an oil lamp to see your way down.
So – here’s the picture – homily if you will…
There is much harvested and stored in what I sometimes think of
the dank and empty dark space of my life but –
Just like Grandmother’s cellar with it’s dark, musty smells –
My cellar – my holding place is full of fruitfulness – many
things stored to be used for
Feeding and
nurture when the time comes.
Hence – “Musings from a Fruitful place.
Aching for Home
This should have been posted 2 days ago...I get distracted and then nothing I really want to do gets accomplished.
Aching for Home
There are words in me
Trapped
below the surface
Of my
heart’s rapid beat
Fearful – gasping for air – spinning
With two left feet!
Empty Made Full
Last night - awake and tearful
Weeping the empty eye
once full -
Weeping the lost smile
the no longer apparent smile
of fruitful promises
of journey's vast expanse.
Gray exchanged for sun filled
expressions of yellows
Oh God - mind the wound
pull Your tent of protection
healing grace over the empty place.
Protect the well from unwanted entries.
Throw in the purifying bough making sweet
bitter empty nothingness that may be
some day - some time gracefilled refreshment.
Meanwhile - I keep my eyes on You
sun and beauty of spring time - earth's rebirth
mystery and truth of darkness made light.
It has been a few days. My intentions not realized but since I said I'd be attentive to the blog every day for 30 I need to show up. This is sort of like announcing to all of your friends that you are going on a diet or giving up chocolate [that will never happen] - once spoken you are committed and you don't want to look stupid so you move forward and grab ahold of the balance bar - steady yourself and end up with something of pride and accomplishment.
Weeping the empty eye
once full -
Weeping the lost smile
the no longer apparent smile
of fruitful promises
of journey's vast expanse.
Gray exchanged for sun filled
expressions of yellows
Oh God - mind the wound
pull Your tent of protection
healing grace over the empty place.
Protect the well from unwanted entries.
Throw in the purifying bough making sweet
bitter empty nothingness that may be
some day - some time gracefilled refreshment.
Meanwhile - I keep my eyes on You
sun and beauty of spring time - earth's rebirth
mystery and truth of darkness made light.
It has been a few days. My intentions not realized but since I said I'd be attentive to the blog every day for 30 I need to show up. This is sort of like announcing to all of your friends that you are going on a diet or giving up chocolate [that will never happen] - once spoken you are committed and you don't want to look stupid so you move forward and grab ahold of the balance bar - steady yourself and end up with something of pride and accomplishment.
Saturday, March 17, 2012
Open Heart - Listening Spirit
Out walking with my pooch Coal this a.m. was a time of insight...maybe not wild and off the charts but an open door...the whisper today was, "you need to respect your art"...your creative endeavors are worthy of your respect...don't rush through the day - listen - pay attention to large and small alike and I might add - around every corner is a poem a musing if only I'm quiet enough - so I can hear and see.
Friday, March 16, 2012
Full of surprises and encouragement...
This morning a friend posted an interview with Ann Voskamp...author of "One Thousand Gifts".
She talked about her writing and the language she uses...called her blog, "A Holy Experience" "this space where I net and catch the days..." used a phrase from Emily Dickinson to describe her style as writing "a bit slant and addressed the fact that very often our writing language is much different that how we express ourselves verbally. Reading this was very encouraging and shined bright light on my day of discovery. Following is the burst of expression that followed.
Coming Out of the Fog
Be brave
Get up and move and the clouds are displaced.
Light comes through and plays in grey's choking night.
It's not os much a terrible thunderous erruption
that pushes or pulls away the separarion from freedom
to see- hear - do
but that in the moving forward - gently
out of the lethargy and melancholy
the light creeps in - whispers are heard
sounds of consolation and creation.
Soon cracks in the old boarded up walls become
a wide open door a vast expanse that
Draws - exposes a fertile landscape full of laughter and light.
Coming out of the Fog
She talked about her writing and the language she uses...called her blog, "A Holy Experience" "this space where I net and catch the days..." used a phrase from Emily Dickinson to describe her style as writing "a bit slant and addressed the fact that very often our writing language is much different that how we express ourselves verbally. Reading this was very encouraging and shined bright light on my day of discovery. Following is the burst of expression that followed.
Coming Out of the Fog
Be brave
Get up and move and the clouds are displaced.
Light comes through and plays in grey's choking night.
It's not os much a terrible thunderous erruption
that pushes or pulls away the separarion from freedom
to see- hear - do
but that in the moving forward - gently
out of the lethargy and melancholy
the light creeps in - whispers are heard
sounds of consolation and creation.
Soon cracks in the old boarded up walls become
a wide open door a vast expanse that
Draws - exposes a fertile landscape full of laughter and light.
Coming out of the Fog
Thursday, March 15, 2012
New Start !
I have been absent for far too long. I doubt and paralysis takes over. So - nothing gets done and no progress is made.
Over the past few weeks several people have told me - "You are really good...you should write...you have something to say..." I get excited and then nothing. Today again, at the end of a conversation a friend said that both she and her husband think that my holiday musings and wonderful and that I should really write.
Alright - already...so here I am on this blog that was created quite a while back making a committment to write daily for 30 days...poetry - reflections - we'll see.
For all who have encouraged me - stand back and watch the process.
Over the past few weeks several people have told me - "You are really good...you should write...you have something to say..." I get excited and then nothing. Today again, at the end of a conversation a friend said that both she and her husband think that my holiday musings and wonderful and that I should really write.
Alright - already...so here I am on this blog that was created quite a while back making a committment to write daily for 30 days...poetry - reflections - we'll see.
For all who have encouraged me - stand back and watch the process.
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