Proposed antiphon: God blesses us and keeps us, and hereafter will make us new
Sometime in late spring
The pansies were discarded
Dumped in the common area
Behind the houses
Where the blackberries grow
And the morning glories dance
Twisting from cane to cane
There the soil is rich,
Full of grass cuttings and bits of bark
Discarded potting soil
Leaf mould and pine needles -
The detritus of years past
There the essence of green life
Spirals up like slow flame
Through the stems and leaves
Through the curling growing tips
And into the air
You can smell it, see it
Wafting from the full petals
And shining from the generous faces
Of the pansy blooms that grew there
Burgeoning with beauty and life
Throw me away
Cast me aside
Into the dung-heap of creation
Let the sun beat down
And the wild rains fall
Let me bloom
Friday, September 17, 2010
Throw Me Away
Posted by
Locust-Eater
at
12:37 AM
1 comments
Labels: Chaos, Consolation, Proverbs, Renewal, Resurrection, Spring, Summer, Wasteland
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Seek Her
Wisdom tires of being mocked
She tires of chasing you down twisting alleys of lies
She tires of calling and having you run instead away
Of stretching out her hand and being rebuffed
Of having her counsel ignored
Attend, lest She abandon you
And laugh at your calamity
Lest She mocks when panic strikes you
When the storm sweeps you away
When you find yourself and all you hold dear
Lost in pain and anguish.
Call upon Her now
having trampled Her word
having ignored Her histories
having spat on Her offerings
having scoffed at Her reproof
and She may not answer
She may leave you to your own devices
Twisting on a gibbet of your own design
Trapped in a cage of metal and spikes
Food for the carrion birds
A warning to others
Should you not eat the fruit of your way?
Should you not find yourself at the end of the road you have chosen?
Wisdom still calls - but you are far from Her
Her voice is faint - but can be heard
Perhaps you can return, retrace your steps
Do not listen to the loud voices around you
Hustling you onward to bad ends
Resist the pushing and jostling of those around you
You still need not be lost
You still, perhaps, can be found.
I write this for you, you yourself
Seek Her!