It's almost Halloween, and the cool nights and the bright leaves and the pumpkins are all gathering. I saw photos of witches on paddleboards, which was amusing but beyond my current abilities. Haha. I ordered a new witchy hat in red, but it's big for me. I look like I'm hiding under a red mushroom. Maybe I'll find another recipient.
Anyway, I have a new poem. I was inspired to write this by a recent experience.
Have a fun Halloween, everyone! And don't forget to join the gang for Poetry Friday. This week is hosted by Carol Labuzzetta... she's sharing more bat goodness! Find it HERE.
I love to carve a pumpkin, no matter how the face turns out. The gooey pumpkin innards and the smell of singed pumpkin take me back to early days. I always have candle stubs to light inside and watch the flickering light. It's much spookier that way, but of course I have to be careful. I suspect it's more fun for me than for the children who come to my door, but that's fine. It amuses me each year.
Thanks to J. Patrick Lewis for this poetic form, called a zeno. The syllable count is 8,4,2,1,4,2,1,4,2,1.
If you start practicing now, you can learn THIS SONG by Halloween.
It's Poetry Friday! Find the whole gang and their poetry offerings at Reading to the Core. Thanks to Catherine Flynn for hosting today and writing about the human urge to leave our mark.
Thanks to Ramona Behnke who prompted our group to write about gladness this month. In particular, how to gather gladness. You can find Ramona's post and links to others at her blog Pleasure From the Page.
I was looking through old photos when I was unexpectedly struck by the many blessings of my life. To be honest, some photos took my breath away. Why unexpectedly? In some I didn't remember the faces being so beautiful. Or I didn't remember the tenderness I had witnessed. I didn't remember some moments at all. I was unexpectedly overwhelmed.
I sometimes feel that my entire life has been one long journey out of fog. It seems that blessings have been staring me in the face, and oftentimes I've been blind to them. What was I thinking? Where was my focus?
Then I came across this poem by Chesterton. I think it speaks very well to my experience and this prompt.
Lo! I am come to autumn, When all the leaves are gold; Grey hairs and golden leaves cry out The year and I are old.
In youth I sought the prince of men, Captain in cosmic wars, Our Titan, even the weeds would show Defiant, to the stars.
But now a great thing in the street Seems any human nod, Where shift in strange democracy The million masks of God.
In youth I sought the golden flower Hidden in wood or wold, But I am come to autumn, When all the leaves are gold.
- G.K.Chesterton
Marlene Figge wrote about this poem: This unexpected discovery that he (Chesterton) is surrounded by an abundance of what he seeks is a metaphor for his encounter with grace. You can read her entire article HERE.
One way to gather gladness is to look back at photos. They can surprise you and bless you.
Also, gather gladness as you read! Many blessings...many tidings of comfort and joy... can be gathered from scripture. 1 Corinthians 13:12 promises:
12 For now we see only a reflection, as in a mirror, but then we will see face to face. Now I know only in part; then I will know fully, even as I have been fully known.
I wish you an autumn full of gatherings and gladness.
Evenings darken earlier now, and when I go out I notice the moon, right there, shining down on me. This past week it was a waxing crescent, lightly clouded over and gauzy. Leaves are beginning to turn, the air is nippy, and the moon looks spooky. Perfect!
Ted Kooser wrote a poem that I like very much, from his collection of poems titled "Winter Mornings: 100 Postcards to Jim Harrison." It begins:
Only a crust of moon is left
to offer the morning,
I can almost feel that crust, rough and dry in my throat. But in spite of that crust sounding like a cold dry leftover, it also sounds intriguing. There's something about the tiny crescent that fascinates and even amuses. Not much to offer the morning, perhaps, but much to offer the imagination.
Speaking of imagination, I'm dedicating some space to a new book by Irene Latham titled The Museum on the Moon: Curious Objects on the Lunar Surface. Myriam Wares illustrated it with just the right tones for the calm bright surfaces of the moon, and Irene wrote poems for each artifact that has been left there. I really like the premise for this book: curious objects that have been left on the moon. What a fascinating topic!
Irene's poems are delightful. I have several favorites, but I'd like to share a bit of this one because in just a few words it made me think about something I had not considered:
Forever Footprints
Human tracks tattoo
Moon's rutted face --
With no wind, no rain
There's no way to erase...
I invite you to find Irene's book and share it. It will be perfect for a classroom or that young person who is enthralled with space. And don't miss the final pages, which are full of astronauts and timelines and many good notes about the moon and its visitors. Congratulations, Irene! Stellar!!!
And now...
How about a fun Moon craft? I did this with kids ages 4 to 12, and they all loved it. Mix paint with flour until it looks like paste, brush a thick layer on a paper circle and stamp it with various sized circles. After a day for drying: Tada!!! A moon with craters. So fun!
I wrote a moon poem some years ago, and decided to rework it for today's blog. Today is a full moon, by the way... the Harvest Moon! I hope the clouds give me a chance to see it.
I turn 75 next month. Three quarters of a century! At times it feels like crazy talk, but of course it is true. I have the documentation. (Tiny chuckle inserted here.)
Life is slowing. I was reminded this summer when I overdid getting some chores done and felt several subsequent repercussions. I had to slow down and rest. Just rest. Time to be still and trust. Be still and listen. Be still and know...
What came of it? A lesson in patience. These are a constant need for me. A lesson in gratitude when I began to feel better, when I found some helpful hints on how to go forward. Gratitude for the ability to search and to learn. Gratitude for a body ready to go again. And a lesson in paying attention to my physical self and taking time to take care. Another constant need.
For everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven... Ecclesiastes 3: 1-8
No matter the speed, grace continues to offer the best surprises. In the middle of CostCo recently, a little girl shrieked and I looked up. Our eyes met and she gave me the most knowing and beautiful smile that a tiny child could give. Yes! You got my attention. And for that moment of time, we shared a bit of humor that brightened my day.
Seasons come and seasons go. Each day is a chance to identify works of grace (in our church we call them God sightings), to celebrate, explore, find beauty, share laughter, give thanks.
Here are some images of beauty and grace in my world.
Delicious beefsteak tomatoes from my garden
I'm trying a couple of fall crops this year... a hopeful venture.
Spider flowers/cleome reseed year after year. Summer ends "in the pink!"
While walking I found this blossom in the midst of wreckage
Peperomia at summer's end.
My peperomia looks so healthy now after breathing in the summer's air and light. I'll bring it in for the winter and it will bring me beauty and joy all winter long.
Thanks to Patricia Franz for this prompt and for hosting this month.
The summer is nearing its end and I am just beginning to harvest tomatoes. The deer ate all the early ones, but we finally had a lovely one with our dinner last night. And speaking of deer, they were nibbling on some new elderberry bushes again, so I got some peppermint spray and headed out to the yard when there, caught in the act, were two fauns. Still sporting their spots but getting leggy, they ran when we clapped. Such a heart tug because they are beautiful and graceful, but so destructive.
Two weeks ago was the birthday of Gerard Manley Hopkins. I just discovered Moonrise, shared below. What a treasure!
You can find more about Hopkins' life HERE. and more of his poetry HERE.
I awoke in the Midsummer not to call night, in the white and the walk of the morning: The moon, dwindled and thinned to the fringe of a finger-nail held to the candle, Or paring of paradisaïcal fruit, lovely in waning but lustreless, Stepped from the stool, drew back from the barrow, of dark Maenefa the mountain; A cusp still clasped him, a fluke yet fanged him, entangled him, not quit utterly. This was the prized, the desirable sight, unsought, presented so easily, Parted me leaf and leaf, divided me, eyelid and eyelid of slumber.
Hopkins always surprises and delights me with his word choices... his "fringe of a finger-nail" and "paring of fruit" in this poem, and elsewhere his "dappled things" and "shook foil."
I hope you will find some favorites.
Thanks to Tabatha Yeatts at The Opposite of Indifference for hosting the Poetry Friday roundup today. Believe me when I say that you will not want to miss her hilarious poem. What a hoot!!!
Linda Mitchell suggested the word "turn" as our focus for this month. Funny thing -we both referenced with the Shaker hymn below. You probably know it, or have heard it:
'Tis the gift to be simple, 'tis the gift to be free, 'Tis the gift to come down where you ought to be; And when we find ourselves in the place just right, 'Twill be in the valley of love and delight.
(Chorus) When true simplicity is gained, To bow and to bend we shan't be ashamed. To turn, turn, will be our delight, Till by turning, turning we come out right.
I remember singing this song but not being sure about the use of "turning, turning" in this instance, so I did a little digging.
This song was relatively unknown throughout our country until Aaron Copland used it in Appalachian Spring. The origin of the song, however, was in 1848 from Elder Joseph Brackett of a Shaker community. Some histories claim it was Elder Joseph Brackett's own song, and mention that Eldress Caroline Helfrich remembered seeing him sing it in a meeting room, turning about "with his coat tails a-flying." You can read more history HERE.
Shaker's believed in living a simple life, going so far as to embrace celibacy and communal living. You may have seen their beautiful but simple furniture, unadorned but graceful in line. Their beliefs stressed humility, so "to bow and bend" was their way.
"To turn, turn, will be our delight, Till by turning, turning we come out right"... the song accompanies a dance, but aside from the dance steps, does "to turn, turn" have a deeper meaning?
I remembered a lesson from long ago, and found this quote which confirmed my memory: from the Christianity.com website... MORE HERE:
You may be surprised to learn the word repent in the Greek New Testament simply means to turn around. It was a military term describing a soldier marching in one direction and doing an about-face, 180-degree turn. And when it’s used spiritually, it means to change your heart, mind, and habits.
Does this Shaker song speak of "turning" in the sense of repentance? Maybe. Isn't it by repentance that we "come out right?" Don't we all have times when we need to turn, to rethink a matter? To bend some... to practice humility?
"To turn, turn, will be our delight" brought another thought. The result of repentance is often a sense of easing our load, getting a weight off our chest. Yes, that is a delight.
I wish I could have seen Elder Brackett's dance and asked him about these words. The concept of turning has long been part of the Christian tradition, and I suspect he knew that. Still, it didn't come to my mind right away, I had to think on it. How about you?
"Turn" has many definitions. I look forward to your thoughts.
I wanted to try a Fibonacci poem, and the words of this simple song inspired me. As often happens, one poem begets another:
To Turn: A Fibonacci Poem
Stop Mull Humbly Lift your heart Turn as faith guides you Delight in simplicity's grace
