There is a song in petals,
the rainsound of notes on thirsty
earth feeding spring’s new flowers.
There is a melody in the making
of a garden where silent, shriveled
seeds wait to burst, pushing
through wet soil with their magic
There is a harmony in the golden
leafwhisper and silent shout
of green dusting the tips of
dogwood and rose, tulip, lilac, moss.
The symphony grows as God
bouquets the Earth with color
and we hear that far off tune,
the resounding music that calls
us beyond this heaven to our home.
I was reading Psalm 45 this morning; the Scripture that God spoke to me years ago when I began writing, “my tongue is the pen of a ready writer.” I noticed the text said it was written to the “tune of ‘Lilies'”, perhaps a song…and I wondered, what do lilies sound like?
|photo by Karen Boudreaux, NOLA, used by permission|
no man-made show can match
this explosive display.
Shocking green here,
shouting magenta there,
showy white front and center.
No gunpowder could blow
breezes like this
to bristle trees,
to “whoosh” the wind
across the skies,
no factory fierce enough
to produce this bright beauty.
Spring’s verb says
the growing will never stop,
but will flow from a fire
deep in the dark,
shoved to the surface,
erupting when you’re not looking.
Spring’s verb comes from nowhere
Spring’s verb says ‘get ready.’
I’ve been awash in words
of late, missing out on the
wind waving through steel
branches, blue and white
sky. Eyes too crowded to
take note of the weather
which goes on without me,
whether I watch it or not.
A glance through the dining
room glass speaks loudly
in all caps.
I am listening.
“There is no earth-changing
work worth writing that
can compare to the lines written
in the night sky on an early
Memory safely deposited for
another day, I bank on the Holy
Spirit’s call to tug at my downward
eyes next time I am consumed
with my own importance.
I will myself to remember–look up.
I’ve been soaking myself in poet/writer/editor John D. Blase’s poems in “The Jubilee”, a collection recently released for his 50th ‘jubilee’ birthday. Each piece packs a wallop in the words; if you enjoy poetry, may I suggest you run, click or drive to get yourself a copy?
I want to fly these dumbbells
up, down, up, down
quick! The momentum of each
lift rising at my side pushing past
perhaps what’s safe or wise
in the name of what? Speed
or yes, the checklist-exercise-
done! When I slow instead,
face the window and raise
these weighted arms slow,
slow, slow-up; slow, slow, slow-
down-the strain increases but the
work muscle-wise is longer lasting.
I feel the wait and wonder if speed
is highly overrated. Aware of the
answer, I rest into the process
lifting again, lowering at my leisure.
And find a lesson in these weights,
an exercise written over taut skin,
reaching to my soul.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I’m heading to the Cascade Mountains of Washington for a weeklong writing project (first draft of my little book!). I covet your prayers for this process–I’d like to speed it up, but God keeps reminding me He’s with me while I wait on Him for the words.
The snow comes, unexpected like
grace after a fall (yours, mine,
ours) a quiet wool covering missteps,
This white-soft gift leaves an expanse
of peace, pulling my eyes away from the
ground, these humble, human feet,
to the misty, gray horizon.
Heart now centered, sheltered, still
while Creation whispers my thanks.
I don’t know about you, but this Monday morning leaves me feeling a little undone. Did you watch the Oscars? Did you see the mess-up at the end, the snafu that has never happened before with the envelope announcing Best Picture being the wrong one? How would you like to be the person that did that?
I’ve other things on my mind–a convalescing husband who’s post-surgery demands are taxing my self-centered flesh, a messy kitchen, incomplete projects, inside & out.
I’m in the middle of living through being disoriented. The root of the word ‘orient’ is from the Latin-‘oriens’, meaning rising sun. Well, of course. When I turn my heart and mind and self towards the East, towards the rising sun–Jesus–I can see things in the right perspective. I feel oriented again.
I don’t like to live with being disoriented, but that’s where I am right now. I’m grateful for God’s word and presence that keeps me looking up in the right direction, shining light on what really matters.
Where are you today? Feeling oriented, disoriented or are you in the middle of reorienting?
Leave your thoughts in the Comments.