April 20, 2010
A poem entitled "Yellow" by Mary Oliver
There is the heaven we enter
through institutional grace
and there are the yellow finches bathing and singing
in the lowly puddle.
This is a modern day poem that draws its power through the use of parallelism (a primary thought--lines 1 and 2, deepened by 3 and 4. This technique was used by the biblical poets.
It is so simple and yet so evocative.
I am so grateful for poets...ancient and contemporay and all those in between.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
April 14, 2010
A brief predawn tiptoeing about outside reminds me of the opening words of Psalm 66: "Make a joyful noise to God...." The birds, large and small, sparrow and goose, are certainly complying with the Psalmist's admonition. The pansys, jonquils, and apple blossoms are joining in with their own unique and 'silent' voices. It makes me wonder if every part and aspect of Creation isn't given a particular song to sing...a particular joyful noise to utter. I have a song to sing but am so often overwhelmed by the circumstances of life that it remains muted...buried underneath the necessities of the present day or the weight of reflection.
Can joy be created? Mustered at will? "Make a joyful noise, Jon! It's a beautiful day!"
It doesn't seem to work quite so simply. I envy the trees and the birds at times. Their joyful noise seems so effortless...so natural and unencumbered.
It is a good day to be in the garden. With all of Creation singing the glory of the Creator, how can I keep from singing?
A brief predawn tiptoeing about outside reminds me of the opening words of Psalm 66: "Make a joyful noise to God...." The birds, large and small, sparrow and goose, are certainly complying with the Psalmist's admonition. The pansys, jonquils, and apple blossoms are joining in with their own unique and 'silent' voices. It makes me wonder if every part and aspect of Creation isn't given a particular song to sing...a particular joyful noise to utter. I have a song to sing but am so often overwhelmed by the circumstances of life that it remains muted...buried underneath the necessities of the present day or the weight of reflection.
Can joy be created? Mustered at will? "Make a joyful noise, Jon! It's a beautiful day!"
It doesn't seem to work quite so simply. I envy the trees and the birds at times. Their joyful noise seems so effortless...so natural and unencumbered.
It is a good day to be in the garden. With all of Creation singing the glory of the Creator, how can I keep from singing?
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