Welcome to the November edition of SJT : Spiritual Journey Thursday. This group generally posts on the first Thursday of the month. Thanks to Linda Mitchell for hosting this month and for providing the prompt: Your World, My world, Our World. You can find her post and the posts of others here.
For those of you who have been following me, I have a new computer now, but I'm still figuring out all the ins and outs. It's a good thing, I'm just not at a comfort level yet. Nonetheless, thanks to my husband who has provided technical support.
In commemoration of the upcoming 250th anniversary of our nation, I've been in a little discussion group based on James Michener's Centennial. I finished the book today, all 909 pages, and I am rightfully awed as Michener's ability to present such an amazing scope of history and such momentous insights and questions. Michener's stories suggest that we face the same questions over and over again:
How do we respect our history and still honestly face our failures?
How do we heal our divisions?
How do we embrace progress while giving due respect to our land?
I come away from this book with a renewed sense of respect and love for the history and beauty of our land. And tonight, as we reveal the votes... how will we go forward?
I pray for peace, truth, and respect. I pray that we will respond with grace.
My One Little Word this year is song. Here are a couple of songs of encouragement:
Give Me Oil in My Lamp
Keep Your Lamps Trimmed and Burning
May we all know God's peace, and may we share it with those around us.
Welcome to another Spiritual Journey post. This month is hosted by Carol Varsalona, who challenged us to Pause to Reflect and consider the worth and meaning of Pausing in our lives. Find Carol's entry and links to others in the group HERE> Thank you, Carol!
This is a quiet time for me. I have a month's pause from several of my usual activities, and I have been resting, reading, gardening and visiting family and friends. I'm grateful for this time. Pausing allows me to take in more of the wonder and beauty that the world offers. So often our eyes are blinded by our own thoughts, plans, and expectations. We forget to pause and really take it all in.
The other day my husband went out to start sprinklers on our lawn. When he came in we exchanged a few words and I barely glanced at him. When I looked more carefully, I noticed he had water splotched all over his shirt. I had completely missed it at first and I realized I had not paused to focus. We had a little laugh over his "shower," a bit of fun I would have missed had I not paused.
How often do we pause to look a person in the eye, read their expressions, appreciate their beauty? How often do we pause to allow the world to surprise us?
I was reminded of Snow Geese by Mary Oliver, which seems an excellent example of pausing and reflecting. Here are some quotes from it:
Snow Geese
by Mary Oliver
...
One fall day I heard above me, and above the sting of the wind, a sound I did not know, and my look shot upward; it was a flock of snow geese, winging it faster than the ones we usually see, and, being the color of snow, catching the sun so they were, in part at least, golden. I held my breath as we do sometimes to stop time when something wonderful has touched us
...
The geese flew on, I have never seen them again. Maybe I will, someday, somewhere. Maybe I won't. It doesn't matter. What matters is that, when I saw them, I saw them as through the veil, secretly, joyfully, clearly.
Wouldn't it be wonderful if we had the inclination and opportunity to pause and to reflect, to enjoy, to wonder and to be dazzled? How much more renewed and delighted we might be. How much more joyfully and clearly we might see the world. I hope you will be so blessed.
A notice: Between software updates and my old computer, I can't add pictures to my blog today. I'm disappointed and I apologize for the lack of color and interest. I hope to solve this issue!
Welcome to a belated post in the Thursday Spiritual Journey Group. Ruth Hersey is hosting, and has provided the prompt "I don't know." Where will it lead?
I've had a most remarkable week.
I have been leading the craft section of our church's Vacation Bible School. We had about 60 children, ages 4yrs to 6th grade. Each day they came through our craft room in age groupings, and we provided craft activities for 25 minutes. Five groups each morning. Move, move, move!
Early in the week we painted with forks to make puffer fish, folded origami angel fish, made whales and decorated whale flukes. We provided a verse or message with most crafts, affirming that each is a "child of God." Midweek we made craft stick anchors and talked about the cross at the top. "We have this hope as an anchor."
my sample... we learned that one big fish was challenge enough!
We cut pool noodles and set up an assembly line to make a little floating boat, crewed by a craft stick person and bearing a flag with the fisherman's prayer. Who doesn't love a floating craft? Friday we shared contagious giggles over our sharks... creative license led to baby vampire sharks, girl sharks with hair and hair bows, cross-eyed sharks, etc. We loved the number of legs on our metallic orange cupcake- liner crabs. Our message read "God is a friend you can trust" and we quietly added "even when you're crabby."
I've had an amazing, large and dedicated group of helpers. It has turned out to be such a wonderful week. Hectic? Yes. Energy draining? Yes. Rewarding? Yes.
I went into this week with excitement and trepidation. I knew I would love the kids, and I love providing crafts, but could we put it all together and make it work? We worked hard, and we did. And we've all been astounded at the blessings of faith and creativity in these children.
my puffer fish sample
I lost sleep trying to stay ahead of our needs. It has been a challenge to keep my thoughts straight with the schedule, the number of kids in each group, the change of craft as we cycle from younger to older. It's been a mad rush of activity for this grandma.
I don't know how to measure my love and appreciation for my helpers. I've made new friends and deepened relationships over the craziness and the creativity and the earnestness of each child. I feel so blessed to be part of this team.
We made it through Friday, but only by God's grace. I feel that we gave our best, and I'm pleased. It seems somehow miraculous that through our simple work with markers and glue sticks, God stepped in and fed our hearts.
I can't leave without a song to reflect my mood, so... here you go... I love these things...
I don't know if I'll have the energy to do this again, and I don't know how I can fully express my feelings about it. I only know I have been blessed beyond measure.
I wish you an uplifting and praiseworthy time this summer also. Feel free to share in the comments. You can find more thoughts on this theme at Ruth's blog... click HERE. Thanks for hosting and for this interesting prompt, Ruth!
Yes, it is Poetry Friday. Thanks to Denise Krebs for hosting. You can find her post, in which she shares a most interesting poetry form, at https://mrsdkrebs.edublogs.org/ Others in the Poetry Friday community will be linked there also. You are cordially invited!
Welcome to Spiritual Journey Thursday. Here you will find a group of authors and poets who write monthly about spiritual matters. You are welcome to write your own response and join in. I'm hosting today so you will find links to other posts in today's comments. Our prompt is about looking into the past for something that has shaped or inspired our current spiritual practice or outlook.
When I was a child, my family attended a lovely little church. Every Sunday we sang a call-and-response liturgy which became very natural to me and which included these words from Psalm 51:
Create in me a clean heart, O God
and renew a right spirit within me
cast me not away from thy presence
and take not thy Holy Spirit from me.
Restore unto me
the joy of thy salvation
and uphold me with thy free spirit.
These words are inscribed on my heart and in my head. They come to me unbidden, and have become some of my favorite verses. My current church does not practice a musical liturgy, and I sometimes miss it. For me, there is value in the repetition of these words. Over time they have grown in meaning as they were repeated and reconsidered. I find that now, in my grandmother years, the music and words come to me as both a comfort and a strength.
Words and music hold immense power. They move us to action or bring us to tears. I've put some of my favorite prayers, scripture and quotes on my walls and over my desk. I like being surrounded with words that lift me up and orient me spiritually.
I hope you have found, or will find, words/songs/psalms that take on deep meaning, that you can fall back on as touchstones. I hope they bring you strength, joy, courage and peace.
Greetings everyone! It is Poetry Friday and I have some poems to share.
Today I'm sharing my delight with Carol Labuzzetta's anthology: Picture Perfect Poetry. I have three poems in this beautiful book, and I'm proud to share two of them today. Carol's anthology is such a beauty! It is an anthology of Ekphrastic Nature Poetry for Students. (Ekphrastic refers to writing that describes a visual art, in this case nature photography.) So, this is a thanks to Carol for including my poems, and a sharing of both poems and photographs.
Autumn's Hold
Pumpkins squat and bright and round Gathered now in autumn's hold Your droll expressions so renowned Pumpkins squat and bright and round. What lessons in this fall playground? Leave a seed! Shine your light! Be BOLD! Pumpkins squat and bright and round Gathered now in autumn's hold.
A note about this one: I just now had the idea to BOLD the bold! Also, this is a form called triolet: the first line is repeated three times. I love that Carol made the entire page orange for this one.
The next poem was inspired not only by the sunset, but by a prompt from an online workshop I took with Georgia Heard. She suggested we write a poem beginning with "Things to do if you are a ..."
Things to Do if You are a Sunset
Blush Sneak in Put on neon Delight in feathered flight Hopscotch from cloud to cloud Inspect your reflection on water Flash on last surprise Dazzle Fade
Thanks ever so much for reading and thanks to Patricia Franz for hosting today. Be sure to check in on her blog to read a wonderful poem about planting sugar pines in a national forest. Also, she has a great quote about being part of something larger. Poetry Friday is that kind of gathering, and you can be part of it also. Find Patricia and learn more HERE.
Greetings! My garden has called me and I've already planted lettuce, salad turnips and sugar snap pea pods. All have germinated, but not at well as I would like, so yesterday I put in a few more seeds.
Growing a garden is a new experience every year. Some plants flourish, some are eaten by rabbits. Some perennials thrive, some are flooded out. It's always a challenge, and always carries some reward.
Two plants I'm pleased with just now are below. The pulmonaria at top, also called lungwort, pleases me every spring with its beautiful spotted leaves and purple flowers. This year I wrote a praise poem about it.
This poem is a form called kwansaba. It is a praise poem with 7 lines, 7 words per line, and 7 or fewer letters per word. The 7 letters per word was tricky and I had to adopt new words, or split words, as I did the word "lungwort."
The photo below is of my peperomia, which originally was given to me by my future husband a few months before we were married. It has had ups and downs over these 52 years, but this year it is glorious and I love it!
Gardening teaches patience and perseverance. It reminds me that life can be messy, and it forces me to get down on my knees. As I pull weeds and water my plants, I witness many blessings of the earth, and I marvel at the power of nature and the webs of interconnection. Gardening promotes respect for the earth, the importance of work and gratitude for each edible morsel. It helps me to appreciate beauty and accept its ephemerality. Each plant has its own family, habit of growth, weaknesses, and needs for flourishing. Keeping track of the names of plants both challenges and fascinates me. Gardens are full of surprises. Two years ago a tiny deep blue liatris showed up under my peony! I have put liatris in pots in the past, but hadn't seen one in some years. What a joy! Gardens and growing things are continual blessings, and upon consideration, I believe lessons from the garden are endless.
The kiss of the sun for pardon,
The song of the birds for mirth,
One is nearer God's heart in a garden,
Than anywhere else on earth.
These words are from the poem "God's Garden" by Dorothy Frances Gurney, born in 1858.
I can't leave without a song or two, since SONG is my OLW for 2024. Here's a cute one I just found, perfect for a little one.
And here's one I learned years ago. There are many videos of this song, but I chose Pete Seeger's because his words are a little different, like a personal prayer.
Thanks to Jone Rush MacCulloch for the prompt this month, and for hosting the Spiritual Journey Thursday group. Find Jone and links to others in the group HERE.
Hello Everyone! National Poetry Month is nearing its end, and I've written two little poems that I'm happy to share today. Many of my poems this month have been elfchens, a form I have come to appreciate for its challenge of so few words.
This first poem came into being as a storm front came through, and I was fascinated by the clouds. They were low and ominous and deep gray, and they scudded past at a good clip. At the same time, I was reading a book about a wildlife preserve in Africa. So... maybe I pushed the envelope here with the metaphor? Anyway... tell me what you think. (Older photo from a trip to MN.)
Storm
Glowering
Gray clouds
Heavy as rhinos
Stampede across the horizon.
Thunder!
The second poem comes from the view out my front window. Spring is at its height here, and I can tell because my eyes are itchy. It happens when the lilacs bloom. Bummer! I love their sweet scent.
Twirling, Twirling
Blushing
seeds adorn
maple's graceful arms.
On cue, breeze whispers:
Waltz?
Hey, have you seen this??? Soon I'll be sharing some of my poems from Carol Labuzzetta's anthology, Picture Perfect Poetry. I'm so pleased with this beautiful gathering of photography and poetry. I hope you will pick up a copy!
Poetry Friday is hosted today by Ruth, all the way from Uganda! She has written a beautiful poem about her dreams of Haiti, where she once lived. Find her blog and links to others HERE.
It's my day to add to this year's Progressive Poem. I think this is the third time I've participated in this month-long tradition of adding a line to a poem written by the participants in our Poetry Friday forum.
This idea was started in 2012 by Irene Latham as a celebration of National Poetry Month. The Progressive Poem is now hosted by Margaret Simon. Thank you, Margaret, for this gorgeous graphic and for organizing this year's poem and giving it shape.
Here is the poem so far, with my lines in bold:
cradled in stars, our planet sleeps, clinging to tender dreams of peace sister moon watches from afar singing lunar lullabies of hope.
almost dawn, I walk with others, keeping close, my little brother. hand in hand, we carry courage escaping closer to the border.
My feet are lightning; My heart is thunder. Our pace draws us closer to a new land of wonder.
I bristle against rough brush -- poppies ahead brighten the browns. Morning light won't stay away -- Hearts jump at every sound.
I hum my own little song like ripples in a stream
And now I pass the poem along to Linda Baie at Teacher Dance. I hope you will follow along!
Here’s the schedule for the 2024 Progressive Poem:
Thanks to Bob Hamera for hosting this month. You can read about two miracles in his life HERE. Look through his comment section to find links to others in this group. Bob provided our prompt this month, to write about everyday miracles.
Do you experience miracles in your life? I find miracles through my life experiences, and also through the books that come my way. Frederick Buechner, Kathleen Norris, and Madeline L'Engle were authors who spoke to me in small miracles. Also Sigurd Olson.
Right now, Jennifer Ackerman's What an Owl Knows is on my reading table. It isn't exactly spiritual, but it does celebrate the many aspects of owls. And owls are one of God's miracles.
We saw a little saw-whet owl sitting on a wire just outside our window in one of our earliest apartments in Minneapolis. It was a cute little thing, no bigger than a robin, and we got a very good look at it. It didn't mind being out during the daylight hours, sheltered as it was between our duplex and the hill full of trees just behind. How lucky to be visited by such a creature.
Thanks to Cornell Lab
Later, walking in her Minneapolis neighborhood with my sister Marion, an owl flew just over my head. To be honest, I missed this encounter altogether, but Marion exclaimed and ducked on my behalf.
My most memorable owl sighting was in Omaha, visiting my niece Becky.
Just before dusk we began to hear an owl, so we walked into the wooded area to see if we could find it. No more than twenty steps and there it was, perched on a low branch: a great horned owl! What a gorgeous creature. We stood and stared for a long time, and the owl stared back. After a while we went back in the house and then into the woods again, and the owl was still there. It seemed to be communicating with another owl a short distance away, which we couldn't find. We thought the adult might have been shadowing a fledgling to be sure it was safe.
Now Ackerman's book brings me back to this memory, and teaches me about owls. The vocalizations of owls, for one thing, are much more varied and interesting than I understood. Did you know that owls don't just hoot, they shriek, yap, chitter, squeal, squawk, warble and wail plaintively? Among great horned owls, the hoot is distinct from one individual to another. The number of notes can differ, and the spacing between hoots can change from one great horned owl to another. Did you know a nesting great horned owl will produce a broken-wing display when threatened? Fascinating!
Communing with nature centers me and brings me peace. Looking into the eyes of an owl is an exciting and extraordinary experience. And consider that there is always more to learn, and that we as humans hunger for learning. These to me are miraculous.
I believe the world is full of more miracles than we can imagine. Today it may be owls, but who knows what it will be tomorrow?
Perhaps the miracle of surprise.
Have a wonderful, miraculous month. The world is waking up. Don't miss it!
It has been off-and-on spring here. Maybe it's the same with you. We've had 70 degrees and 25 degrees. We've had rain and sun, and the wind has been quite phenomenal. A front came through yesterday and hit the house like a blast, and knocked over a recycling container. I was concerned for the guy who was taking down a tree at the end of our block. He as hanging from a giant crane, cutting branches from some old white pines. Fortunately he was done with that part of the job.
Anyway, spring IS here and the early blossoms are nodding in the wind. Do the first bright flowers of spring give you a spark of delight? I tried to capture that feeling as I wrote this haiku.
Holding my breath for
first flash of lightning - striking
yellow daffodils.
---draft Karen Eastlund
I was reading Diane Ackerman's poetry last night, and came across this lovely poem:
The forsythia are blooming now also. New Jersey has a lovely long spring. Today it feels like winter, temperature now is 28, but spring will be triumphant!
Have a wonderful week, and thanks for visiting. Say Hi! in the comments!
Find the rest of the Poetry Friday group at Rose Cappelli's Imagine the Possibilities. She has some lovely bird poems for us today. Thanks for hosting, Rose! Click HERE to read her post.
Hello to all my Poetry Friday friends! Happy March!
We had a lot of rain recently, and the river is brown with mud and my yard is squishy. When I walk I have to be sure to wear shoes that can handle mud. And when I get home, I clap my shoes together to get the mud out from between the lugs. If that doesn't work, I have to scrub with a brush. It is mud season. No doubt about it. So I wrote a poem for Poetry Friday!
Poetry Friday is a weekly blogging event in which poets, writers, readers, and lovers of poetry share blog posts about poetry. It was started by Renee La TuLippe back in 2015 and it's still going strong.
This poem is a nonet. It begins with a line of nine words, then a line of eight, seven, six... until you reach the last single word.
I felt that mud would be a worthy topic for a poem. You can judge for yourself.
Nonet to Mud
Mud spatters, clings, pulls at wheels, tugs at feet
Mud traipses and tracks through bottomlands, barnyards, doorways
Also, I remembered a mud song, and I found it performed by Flanders & Swann. Apparently they had a program back in the black and white television days. I don't remember them personally, but I find the performance amusing, and I hope you do also.
Thanks for reading my muddy words. Please leave me some comments. And thanks to Laura Purdie Salas for hosting today. She has a new book to celebrate, so please click in to her blog and give her a note of congratulations. You can find her blog HERE. Then, follow the links at her blog for more poetic goodness.
Welcome to my meanderings for Spiritual Journey Thursday. Ramona is hosting today and she offered the prompt of "gathering goodness." Thank you, Ramona!
This month offers a number of reasons to gather goodness. Spring officially arrives this month, and with it all the hope and labor of new life. And Easter arrives this month, a celebration of life and redemption. My OLW for the year is "song," so I am pleased to share with you this beautiful Redemption Song as arranged and played by the Kanneh-Masons. I always enjoy this family, and their musical offerings are surely good things to gather in your basket.
I've been watching the live video of an eagle's nest, which hatched two fluffy chicks this past week or two. You can celebrate the new chicks by clicking HERE. In a few short months these sweet little puffballs will turn into fledgling eagles. The transformation is miraculous and surely a good thing.
Frederich Buechner wrote: When God created the creation, God made something where before there had been nothing, and as the author of the book of Job puts it, "the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy" (38:7) at the sheer and shimmering novelty of the thing. (from Wishful Thinking)
Buechner's description, his "sheer and shimmering" is a delight to me. I hope I never forget that the world awakes new every morning, always ready to surprise and delight us. I hear mourning doves regularly now, as well as a chorus of various twitterings, and I see robins and blue jays, and the geese honking as they fly over. Yesterday I walked to the river and saw several mallards and a merganser winging its way up the river. Every bush seemed to sprout buds overnight. I can almost hear the world waking up, ready to grow and thrive again.
This beautiful song by John Rutter, sung by a wonderful young chorister, celebrates the goodness of the world. All Things Bright and Beautiful. Enjoy:
I wish you a sheer and shimmering sense of wonder as spring comes into full bloom. In the meantime, check out the offerings by Ramona and other SJT participants. Click HERE.
Hello all Friday Poetry Friends and visitors. I'm throwing together a post today, last minute. Why not?!!
I've been trying to write daily as per the Stafford Challenge. I watched Kim Stafford's presentation, but I haven't followed too closely beyond that. Nonetheless, I'm writing more, and that is a good thing.
So... I watch the eagle nest which is streamed from Duke Farms, near me. Today there's snow in the nest, the wind is up, and the parent eagle is snuggling dried grass around the edge of the incubation area. One day, not long ago, I caught the sight of the nest with two beautiful eggs, but no parent. It took my breath away! Then a happy resolution. So I wrote this little poem:
Two bare eggs in a cold nest
Enters a flourish of feathers
Gentle turning of an egg
Two eggs snuggled
I smile
-Karen Eastlund, draft
Another day, on my walk along the river, I saw a blue heron in a tree. I'm still struggling to express my impression of that heron, but in my various attempts I wrote this limerick. Call it a draft... it's a draft!
