All posts by Carol Moffat

Carol
Wife, Mom, friend,student
Sibling of Linda and Mary
Lover of Christ, Art, The Kids, Birds Singing
Who feels hopeful, wondering, watchful and blessed
Who needs to listen carefully, study hard, laugh often
Who gives hugs
Who fears harm to any child, subtly, no birds singing
Who would like to see Mercy and Grace and growth
Resident of the hills of Pennsylvania
Moffat

Loveliest of Trees, the Cherry Now

A. E. Housman

Loveliest of trees, the cherry now
Is hung with bloom along the bough,
And stands about the woodland ride
Wearing white for Eastertide.

Now, of my threescore years and ten,
Twenty will not come again,
And take from seventy springs a score,
It only leaves me fifty more.

And since to look at things in bloom
Fifty springs are little room,
About the woodlands I will go
To see the cherry hung with snow.

Editor’s note: “carpe diem!”


 

You Make Beautiful Things…

 

  All This pain

I wonder if I’ll ever find my way
I wonder if my life could really change at all
All this earth
Could all that is lost ever be found
Could a garden come up from this ground at all

 

You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of the dust
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of us

All around
Hope is springing up from this old ground
Out of chaos life is being found in You

You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of the dust
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of us

You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of the dust
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of us

You make me new, You are making me new
You make me new, You are making me new
You are making me new

You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of the dust
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of us

You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of the dust
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of us

You make me new, You are making me new
You make me new, You are making me new

Artist: Gungor

Album: Beautiful Things



Unto Us A Child Is Born

baby-jesus

For a child has been born—for us!

    the gift of a son—for us!

He’ll take over

    the running of the world.walking-on-water-lewis-bowman

His names will be: Amazing Counselor,

    Strong God,

Eternal Father,

    Prince of Wholeness.

His ruling authority will grow,

    and there’ll be no limits to the wholeness he brings.prince-of-peace

He’ll rule from the historic David throne

    over that promised kingdom.

He’ll put that kingdom on a firm footing

    and keep it going

the-prince-of-peace-has-come

Isaiah 9:6-7–The Message



Supermoon

 

super-moon5

 

Full Moon
by
Tu Fu
Above the tower — a lone, twice-sized moon.
On the cold river passing night-filled homes,
supermoon-6jpg
It scatters restless gold across the waves.

On mats, it shines richer than silken gauze.

supermoon2Empty peaks, silence: among sparse stars,
Not yet flawed, it drifts. Pine and cinnamon
Spreading in my old garden . . . All light,
All ten thousand miles at once in its light!

supermoon4

Look at the night sky November 14, 2016.  The full moon will be closer to the earth than it has been in 68 years. It will look brighter and it will look about 14% larger than usual.  The gravitational pull on the earth now and through the next month will be a little stronger because the moon is closer to earth.  Because of this the ocean tides will rise about 2 feet to 3 feet above normal. So that you can see this brighter, bigger moon perfectly …wishing you dark nights and clear skies.
Ruth Schweitzer- Greystone Skywatcher.
supermoon-3png
The heavens declare the glory of God, and the sky above proclaims his handiwork. Psalm 19:1


Hunter’s Moon

Hunting Song (Navajo)

huntersmoon

       Comes the deer to my singing,
Comes the deer to my song,
Comes the deer to my singing.

He, the blackbird, he am I,
Bird beloved of the wild deer.
Comes the deer to my singing.

From the Mountain Black,
From the summit,
Down the trail, coming, coming now,
Comes the deer to my singing.

Through the blossoms,
Through the flowers, coming, coming now,
Comes the deer to my singing.

Through the flower dew-drops,
Coming, coming now,
Comes the deer to my singing.

Through the pollen, flower pollen,
Coming, coming now,
Comes the deer to my singing.

Starting with his left fore-foot,
Stamping, turns the frightened deer,
Comes the deer to my singing.

Quarry mine, blessed am I
In the luck of the chase.
Comes the deer to my singing.

       Comes the deer to my singing,
Comes the deer to my song,
Comes the deer to my singing.

from George W. Cronyn, The Path on the Rainbow (1918)

advent 3


 Hunter’s Moon ,Blood Moon, Sanguine Moon (given by The American Indians) are all names for the October full moon. Travel Moon and Dying Grass Moon are other names given it.



Before The Wind

1st day

going to kindergarten

It’s a small thing
your sneakers unlaced
the hole in your hand-me-down jeans
that bunch at your ankles
like paper bags.
No matter;

you march up the steps to school
and don’t look back.
with the unmatched mittens
you drag three favorite dragons.
Your hat, a small crooked flag on your head
signals arrival.
On your shirt
the clipper ship under canvas
sails boldly into blue
like you at five years old
how you take each day
full-sail.

sail boat

-Carol Burnes



 

Grandma’s Hands

Scott Lucas lives in North Platte, Nebraska.  After pursuing  music and art, he came home from the army to study Nuclear Medicine.  Lately he has returned to the arts by way of writing poetry, short stories, some free lance journalism and singing in an 80 member regional choir.  This poem speaks to me not only about multi-generational threads that  spin patterns of  exqusite love , but  also of the vital pulse beat in living  with grace amidst the current of our day-to days.

tatting5

GRANDMA’S HANDS

I can close my eyes and still see her hands.
Tatting, almost iambically
while conversation flowed.

tatting
Tatting perfectly without the slightest concentration,
like the Pilgrim’s Progress prayer.
Fingers darting electricity quick.
Imperturbably coping without pause.
Little pistons tatting miles of frothy beauty
in lacy twists and turns.

tatting4
Through children, and grandchildren, and great grandchildren.
Her frail hands in constant motion
rhythmically digesting most of a century.
I can close my eyes and still see Grandma’s hands.

Scott L. Lucas

Bertha Morisot
Bertha Morisot


Stackhouse Park Shakespeare

Stackhouse Park
Stackhouse Park

 July!

Here in Johnstown, July means Shakespeare In The Park.  The brain child of Laura Gordon, this show has gone on for the past 26 years. I have been to The Ashland, Oregon Shakespeare Festival, and can tell you that Shakespeare at Stackhouse Park every July is right up there with the absolute best.  Time was when Laura Gordon turned her 7th Grade English class room into a small Globe Theater.  I remember 7th graders so enthused about Shakespeare  that Elizabethan English was their second language.  This year the presentation is “Much Ado About Nothing”, and again promises to delight. 

Much Ado Ticket

Powell Stackhouse Park Pavalion

                         July 14, 15, 16, 20,21,22,232016                                                  7:00PM

                                          http://www.bandofbrothersshakespeare.org/

William Shakespeare

 

“Sigh No More, Ladies…”

(From “Much Ado about Nothing”)

Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more.
    Men were deceivers ever,
One foot in sea, and one on shore,
    To one thing constant never.
Then sigh not so, but let them go,
    And be you blithe and bonny,
Converting all your sounds of woe
    Into hey nonny, nonny.
 Sing no more ditties, sing no morestackhouse5
    Of dumps so dull and heavy.
The fraud of men was ever so
    Since summer first was leafy.
Then sigh not so, but let them go,
    And be you blithe and bonny,
Converting all your sounds of woe
    Into hey, nonny, nonny.
Stackhouse Park Pavallion
Stackhouse Park Pavalion

things



 

River



June! 

Winter is beautiful  in Pennsylvania and very long.  Spring is busy making green, green with lots of rain.  And now it’s time to get out the kayak.  On occasion I’ve gone down the Youghiogheny River, often I’m at the Quemahoning with my friend “The Other Carol”.  A couple of times I’ve been down the Allegheny — once on a flat wooden raft. This song filters though my brain as the sun shines and the water calls.  Sung by Aileen and Elkin Thomas from  THE JOURNEY album. {Shantih Records, 1986  aethomas.com} Their timeless art and sound accompany me on many of my adventures, mental and otherwise.

I was born in the path of the winter wind
I was raised where the mountains are old

Their springtime waters came dancing down  And I remember the tales they told

Youghiogheny
Youghiogheny

The whistling ways of my younger days
Too quickly have faded on by
But all of my memories linger on
Like the light in a fading sky

River, take me along in your sunshine, sing me your song

Bald Eagle Creek at Castanea. Feet on bow of kayak.

Ever moving and winding and free
You rolling old river, you changing old river
Let’s you and me, river, run down to the sea

I’ve been to the city and back again
I’ve been moved by some things that I’ve learned
Met a lot of good people and I’ve called them friends
Felt the change when the seasons turned

I’ve heard all the songs that the children sing
And listened to love’s melodies
I’ve felt my own music within me rise
Like the wind in the autumn trees

Youghiogheny
Youghiogheny

River, take me along in your sunshine, sing me your song
Ever moving and winding and free
You rolling old river, you changing old river
Let’s you and me, river, run down to the sea

Allegheny
Allegheny 

Someday when the flowers are blooming still
Someday when the grass is still green
My rolling waters will round the bend

Quemahoning
Quemahoning

And flow into the open sea

So, here’s to the rainbow that’s followed me here
And here’s to the friends that I know
And here’s to the song that’s within me now
I will sing it wherever I go

Bill Staines – Lyrics/Music

kayaking