Advent

 

Cosmic Christ - Advent in Art 2010 small

Into The Darkest Hour

by Madeleine L’Engle

It was a time like this,

War & tumult of war,

a horror in the air.

Hungry yawned the abyss-

and yet there came the starMary McKibben Dana

baby Jesusand the child most wonderfully there.

It was time like this

of fear & lust for power,

Eddie Claz
Eddie Claz

license & greed and blight-

and yet the Prince of bliss

came into the darkest hour

in quiet & silent light.cold_fusion_by_hunduel-d7ur513

And in a time like this

how celebrate his birth

when all things fall apart?

Ah! Wonderful it is

with no room on the earth

the stable is our heart.advent in heart

 

 

 



 

November

 

Fall Song – by Mary Oliver

windwater stone 10

Another year gone, leaving everywhere

its rich spiced residues: vines, leaves,

the uneaten fruits crumbling damplyrotten-apples-sidewalk-fallen-tree-top-view-58302721

in the shadows, unmattering back

from the particular island

of this summer, this NOW, that now is nowhere

except underfoot, molderingnov acorns 2

in that black subterranean castle

of unobservable mysteries – roots and sealed seeds milkweed nov.

and the wanderings of water. This

I try to remember when time’s measure

painfully chafes, for instance when autumn

flares out at the last, boisterous and like us longingNov.

to stay – how everything lives, shifting

from one bright vision to another, forever

in these momentary pastures. 

transcarpathian-pastures-autumn-near-beautiful-mountain-peaks-live-huts-hutsul-shepherds-ukraine-herding-sheep-summer-48294041

 

 

 



 

Wind, Water, Stone

wind water stone 11

Wind, Water, Stone

BY OCTAVIO PAZ

TRANSLATED BY ELIOT WEINBERGER

for Roger Caillois

Water hollows stone,windwater stone 4

wind scatters water,

stone stops the wind.

Water, wind, stone.

Wind carves stone,

windwater stone 5stone’s a cup of water,

water escapes and is wind.

Stone, wind, water.

Wind sings in its whirling,windwater stone 6

water murmurs going by,

unmoving stone keeps still.

Wind, water, stone.

Each is another and no other:

crossing and vanishing

through their empty names:

water, stone, wind.wind water stone 2



 

September

oo1940Wayne01

Eight-OH-Three

by Carol Diggory Shields                        

Lunch box, backpack.

Papers flying free.

Shoelaces untied —872462-001-child-wearing-shoes-with-laces-untied-close-gettyimages

Eight-oh-three.

Quick kiss, oops missed.

Bum! Out the door.

Jumping, jamming down the stairs —

Eight-oh-four.

Legs pumping, heart thumping,

Running down the drive.School-Kids-Running

Will I make it, Will I make it?

Eight -oh-five.

Tight corner, muddy puddle,corvallis-oregon-candid-childrens-photography_13-800x529

Dodge, jump, kick.

Slide into the bus stop —

Eight-oh-six.

Rumble grumble, grumble, rumble,

Up the road it chugs,

Faster than a speeding snail,

Slower than a slug.Yellow-Dinosaur-Sew-or-Iron-On-Patch-2-inch

A moaning-groaning, blinking-winking

Yellow dinosaur

Slowly hisses to a stop,

Opens up the door.

I have a simple question.

I’d really like to know —school-bus-kids

How come I have to run so fast

To catch a bus so slow?

school-bus-clip-art-1202969



Summer

 “And this our life, exempt from public haunt,
Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks,
Sermons in stones, and good in everything.
I would not change it.” As You Like It -ActII, Scene I -Shakespeare


Emily Dickinson (1830-1886)

A Something in a Summer’s Day

A something in a summer’s Day
As slow her flambeaux burn away
Which solemnizes me.

A something in a summer’s noon —

Jacobsen
Jacobsen

A depth — an Azure — a perfume —

Transcending ecstasy.

And still within a summer’s night

Hot Summer Night Dennis Largo Schulz
Hot Summer Night
Dennis Largo Schulz

A something so transporting bright
I clap my hands to see —

Then veil my too inspecting face
Lets such a subtle — shimmering grace
Flutter too far for me —

The wizard fingers never rest —

Wall--Scalp Level Artist
Wall–Scalp Level Artist

The purple brook within the breast
Still chafes its narrow bed —

Still rears the East her amber Flag —dawn_sky

Guides still the sun along the Crag
His Caravan of Red —

So looking on — the night — the morn

Conclude the wonder gay —

Sanctuary The Rock

And I meet, coming thro’ the dews

Another summer’s Day!



 

Spring

Monet
Monet

Early Spring — Rainer Maria Rilke8832_American_Goldfinch_07-23-2010_1

lilacs3

Harshness vanished. 

A sudden softness

has replaced the meadows’ wintry grey.

Little rivulets of water changed
their singing accents. rivulet

Tendernesses, hesitantly, reach toward the earth
from space, and country lanes are showing
these unexpected subtle risings
that find expression in the empty trees.

Nancy Berry
Nancy Berry

 

 

 

 

 



 

Christ is Risen!

CASTING CROWNS
Who Am I
Who am I, that the Lord of all the earth
Would care to know my name
Would care to feel my hurt?
Who am I, that the bright and morning star
Would choose to light the way
For my ever wondering heart?

Not because of who I am
But because of what You’ve doneGaryLessord-TheCrucifixion
Not because of what I’ve done
But because of who You are

faded-flower-1350107464_bI am a flower quickly fading
Here today and gone tomorrow

A wave tossed in the oceanwave
A vapor in the wind
Still You hear me when I’m calling
Lord You catch me when I’m falling
And You told me who I am
I am Yours, I am Yours

Who am I, that the eyes that see our singirl's sadness
Would look on me with love

And watch me rise again?helping-hand-1

Who am I, that the voice that calmed the sea
Would call out through the rain
And calm the storm in me?

Not because of who I am
But because what of You’ve done

christ-w-arms-raised-georges-roualt-1936

Not because of what I’ve done
But because of who You are

I am a flower quickly fading
Here today and gone tomorrow
A wave tossed in the ocean
A vapor in the wind
Still You hear me when I’m calling
Lord You catch me when I’m falling
And You told me who I am
I am Yours

Not because of who I am
glorified-christ-300x291But because of what You’ve done
Not because of what I’ve done
But because of who You are

I am a flower quickly fading
Here today and gone tomorrow
A wave tossed in the ocean
A vapor in the windvapor
Still You hear me when I’m calling
Lord You catch me when I’m falling
You told me who I am
I am Yours, I am Yours, I am Yours

Whom shall I fear?
Whom shall I fear?
‘Cause I am Yours, I am Yours

empty-tomb-light

Songwriter: John Mark Hall

 

 

 



 

March

Winter Trees

~William Carlos Wiliams

1883-1963

9 ice over lilac buds-thumb-500x332

last_snow_on_buds_by_mogrianne-d3e2rnp

All the complicated details
of the attiring and
the disattiring are completed!

liquidmoon4

A liquid moon

moves gently among
the long branches.
Thus having prepared their buds
against a sure winter
the wise trees
stand sleeping in the cold.

robin

snowbuds



Merry Christmas!

The Holy Nativity Stephan Whetley
The Holy Nativity
Stephan Whetley

 

from spiraling ecstatically this

proud nowhere of earth’s most prodigious night

Nativity ~ Bradley
Nativity ~ Bradley


blossoms a newborn babe: around him, eyes
–gifted with every keener appetite
than mere unmiracle can quite appease–
humbly in their imagined bodies kneel
(over time space doom dream while floats the whole

perhapsless mystery of paradise)

Mary ~ Sullivan
Mary ~ Sullivan
mind without soul may blast some universe
to might have been, and stop ten thousand stars
but not one heartbeat of this child; nor shall
even prevail a million questionings against the silence of his mother’s smile- whose only secret all creation sings.
e.e.cummings   
Holy Night
Holy Night

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



 

That Time Of Year…

That time of year thou mayst in me behold (Sonnet 73)
William Shakespeare, 1564 – 1616

That time of year thou mayst in me behold
When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang
Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,
Bare ruined choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.

DSC_0073

In me thou see’st the twilight of such day
As after sunset fadeth in the west;
Which by and by black night doth take away,
Death’s second self, that seals up all in rest.

DSC_0074

In me thou see’st the glowing of such fire,
That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,
As the deathbed whereon it must expire,
Consumed with that which it was nourished by.

This thou perceiv’st, which makes thy love more strong,

To love that well which thou must leave ere long.

DSC_0068