It's Friday, time for a little poetry. The poem below is all about sound. And coffee. Do they go together? Of course!
© Karen Eastlund
It's Friday, time for a little poetry. The poem below is all about sound. And coffee. Do they go together? Of course!
Welcome to the Spiritual Journey Thursday group. I'm hosting this month and I've chosen the theme of "Finding Direction" for this month's sharing. That said, writers in this group are welcome to post on any matter of spiritual life. I look forward to reading them.
I recently saw a lovely hour-long Nature program about weasels. Someone in Great Britain has made his property into a weasel haven, complete with hidden tunnels, cameras, and various nooks and crannies for weasels to hide or raise a family. This Brit is fascinated with weasels! One of the enduring images from the program was of an orphaned least weasel. This creature's eyes were still closed, and it was indeed tiny in the hands of the Brit. The baby weasel was constantly wiggling, throwing it's head first this way and that, mouth open. The rooting behavior. Any nursing mother would recognize it instantly. The creature is hungry and is doing everything it can to find it.
Sometimes, in these last few months in particular, I have felt like that little weasel. Blind. Unsure where to go to get what I needed. Many of my usual places... church, library, etc., were not available. My usual activities were not considered safe. I was doing what I could, but at times it felt like I was throwing myself blindly one way and then another.
I wish I could offer easy answers, but I can't. My process for finding direction is messy and wastes energy. I admit that I often try to find my own way instead of asking God for direction. Many verses encourage us to turn to God, but the one I have in front of me, recently and beautifully colored by one of my granddaughters, is Exodus 14:14.
The Lord will fight for you,
you need only be still. - Exodus 14:14
Now... if I could just learn to be still... turned toward God... ears open.
My church had been approached by a developer regarding sale of some of our property. We deliberated and several church leaders encouraged us to take the deal, but the congregation expressed concerns. Instead, we put the idea on hold. Within months the local Habitat for Humanity organization approached us, offering to upgrade the house on our property and use it as their office. It was the best possible outcome. Had we not waited quietly, listening as best we could, we would have missed this opportunity. I believe God was fighting for us, leading us in the best direction.
My prayer today is that you and I and indeed the country and the whole world find a way to listen and be still...turned toward a way of peace and health, hope and love.
One day, when I least expected it, a little blessing came along to encourage me. I found these on my front step... I share them in the hope that you also will be blessed.
My car self destructed a few weeks ago. My husband has been sharing his truck with me, and we have been hunting for a replacement. I should be picking up my new (slightly used) car just about the time you will be reading this. Hooray!
Stop by Linda Mitchell's today as she honors the last days of a loved one.
Find Ramona as she shines a light into her prayers and pathway.
Visit Margaret for a poem of alchemy and direction.
Ruth's post tells us about her (sometimes scary) journey.
Click this link to read Fran Haley's beautiful poem about an autumn journey.
Carol Varsalona posts here about a frustrating and overwhelming day.
I am delighted to be taking some online poetry lessons with Georgia Heard. Her first prompt was to begin a poem with "Give me back..." My draft is below. I would be happy for your constructive input.
Only once in my life have I seen water look as it did the night described, and I didn't get a photo of it. Frankly, I haven't seen any images as stunning as what I describe in my poem. The photo below approaches it in color and horizontal orientation so I decided to share it. I hope it works for you.
photo by Dean Hebert
Blue Homage
Give me back those few seconds
Just at dusk
In our battered old canoe
My hand dipping into the cool water
The paddle rough in my palm
You in the stern
Setting the rhythm
The very last beam of daylight
Hovered over the dark water
Sprinkling it with needles of
Brilliant neon blue
Millions of ripples
Like saints before an altar
Glimmering fervently
A stunning sight
A fleeting homage to the day
A splendor I cannot forget
If only you had seen it…
© Karen Eastlund
Poetry Friday is hosted by Carol Varsalona today. Please click in at Beyond Literacy Link and follow the links for many wonderful poetic offerings.
Also, I think you'll enjoy my recent post, the first in series of family stories about my Grandpa Otto's Cafe.
https://kceastlund.blogspot.com/2020/09/velkommen-til-otto-evensons-cafe.html
Meet my paternal grandparents, Otto Evenson & Henrietta Quinnell Evenson, both of Norwegian descent. Henrietta's parents emigrated from Norway to Iowa, and Henrietta was born in Iowa City in 1881.