Rebirth

For the listener, who listens in the snow, And, nothing himself, beholds nothing that is not there and the nothing that is. — Wallace Stevens, “The Snow Man”

There ought not to be anything but that my mind has ordered it so —

So I had been taught — for the mind is designer

Reality but the by-blow, bastard child that diminishes as I diminish

But that the Emperor of Ice-Cream has clay feet

Which stand on eternity’s threshold eyeing a feast.

There the bread and wine of Thy design

Grain and grape sweetly lies upon the tongue

To “taste and see the goodness of the LORD”

Yet nothing tasting if not sanctified by Thy Word

Blood spilled and body broken

Spoken gospel of love heard by a few

Who once nothing being are born in You

Till nothing become sons and daughters

Alive to You.


Laura at dVerse asks us to address paradox as a matter for today’s “Poetics” prompt, including using as a starting point and/or epigraph the above Wallace Stevens quotation. Click on Mr. Linky for more and join in!

You Have Been Good to Me, LORD

I’m loving the Psalms this morning, especially those whose words have sunk deep into my heart. Of them, Psalm 121 always comes to mind. And how it causes me to say, in the words of Psalm 13: 6, “I will sing the LORD’s praise, for he has been good to me.”

I lift up my eyes to the hills. From where does my help come?

My help comes from the LORD, who made heaven and earth.

He will not let your foot be moved; he who keeps you will not slumber.

Behold, he who keeps Israel will neither slumber nor sleep.

The LORD is your keeper; the LORD is your shade on your right hand.

The sun shall not strike you by day, nor the moon by night.

The LORD will keep you from all evil; he will keep your life.

The LORD will keep your going out and your coming in from this time forth and forevermore.

Psalm 121 (ESV)
Audrey Assad, “Good To Me” (lyrics below)

Good To Me (Audrey Assad)

I put all my hope on the truth of Your promise
And I steady my heart on the ground of Your goodness
When I’m bowed down with sorrow I will lift up Your name
And the foxes in the vineyard will not steal my joy

Because You are good to me, good to me
You are good to me, good to me
You are good to me

And I lift my eyes to the hills where my help is found
Your voice fills the night – raise my head up to hear the sound
Though fires burn all around me I will praise You, my God
And the foxes in the vineyard will not steal my joy

Because You are good to me, good to me
You are good to me, good to me
You are good to me, yeah

Your goodness and mercy shall follow me
All my life
I will trust in Your promise

Yeah, Your goodness and mercy shall follow me
All my life
I trust in Your promise

Your goodness and mercy shall follow me
All my life
I will trust in Your promise

Because You’ re good (You are good to me, good to me)
So good (You are good to me, good to me)
You are good to me

The Student and the Teacher: A Dialogue

My teacher, what have you left me?
A marker, a pen, and an eraser
An old desk to place all the clutter
Of highlighters, clippings, and notes.

My teacher, what have you left me?
A love for the details of things
To get at the heart of a matter
Regardless how tedious the chore.

My student, what have you left me?
Time passes but I can’t forget
Eager minds straining to gather
Knowledge as pebbles from a brook.

My student, what have you left me?
Your joy in finding your passion
Excitement overcoming discouragement
So honoring me as your guide.

Written for Rochelle's Friday Fictioneers   
Genre: Poetry
Word count: 100 words 
PHOTO PROMPT © Jan Wayne Fields 
Click on the frog and join the party!

Of Belugas and Mercies in the New Year

Come, magical sprites of sea, land, and air
Dreamlifters that transport us far from care
Belugas, or bluebells, or a child and a mare
My speech to you is dire and fair:

Dire, because of last year’s dismal fare
Of health and crises that cause us to beware
Threat of contagion from death’s lair;

Fair, because your songs lay bare
The beauties of God’s mercies and care
Shown in his Son whom we boldly dare
Address as our brother, Lord and Savior,
Whose love we eagerly want to share
Aware that we can rejoice in this new year
With all those whose burdens he helps to bear.

Michelle's January 2021 Writing Prompts: "Belugas and dreamlifters"
Linda's JusJoJan Prompt, "Speech"
Image credit: Pexels.com

Spatial Encounter

Hubble Telescope Image

I am not averse to reimaginations
Given you walked out of my conversation
As a noetic effect of its distillation

I am not chained to inharmonious juxtapositions
When salubrious angels gather in celebration
Of a desire prayed and given manifestation

I am simply thankful for your gravitation
Towards me, bindingly, irradiate sub-atomic fusion
Where once I envisioned only solitary annihilation

Yet this I wonder, and this in never-ending fascination
How in moments your eyes gray meet my brown it’s recreation
Of a space-time-matter continuum of conflagration

For dVerse's "Poetics:Look into my Eyes"
Click on Mr. Linky and join in!


When Christmas Comes

Written for Rochelle's Friday Fictioneers  
Genre: Realism
Word count: 100 words
PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson 
Click on the frog and join in the fun!

When Christmas Comes

As a child, Christmas decorations made her sick with excitement. Now they made her sick for those gone missing since the lock-down. They showed up in little boxes the home projected onto a screen, but she knew they were impersonators. She watched, but refused to speak to those teary-eyed strangers. Her own family was naturally cheerful, even boisterous. “Lord, where are they?” Every day she recited their names, rolling them in her mouth like hard candy. Every day there was less of them to remember. But Christmas came. Her heart burned. There was a Light to investigate in the heavens.

Freedom is Soul Food

Jude’s Saturday Symphony #10: SOUL FOOD
The Great Pampas-Vinca Escape

Freedom is Soul Food

I see the white picket fences with gardens galore

“Healthy, wealthy, wise,” to you they implore

To follow their ways of crooked desire:

Forget narrow ways and the cross on a spire

When you can live like a king and master of your fate

Living it up with all you can eat on a plate.

But there’s more to life than living behind

White picket fences with gardens they design

A prisoner you’ll be to all that they crave

No freedom you’ll have to serve the God who can save.

“You gotta serve somebody,” the old crooner sang

He got it right and to amazing grace he ran

‘Cause freedom is soul food and nothing satisfies

Like breathing free in Christ with a soul that never dies.

“Gotta Serve Somebody” by Bob Dylan (lyrics included at link)

Before You Go

I could feel her soft, wrinkled hand tightening on mine. I don’t know how long we stood before she finally spoke.

“I was looking out that window over the sign. I saw your grandfather’s mother kill mine. Just because she wasn’t the same color. It’s been seventy years now. It feels like just yesterday.”

I got my tongue working. “Grandma, how could you marry him?”

She turned, soft brown eyes wet with tears. “It wasn’t easy but love won. Hate lost. You’ll be going off to college soon. You won’t forget that, will you?”

“Like the sign says, Grandma, ‘NOPE’!”

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

word count: 100 
written for Rochelle's Friday Fictioneers
click on Rochelle Wisoff-Fields's hand-drawing of the frog 
for more tales of a hundred words or less.
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