An Altered Look

10 04 2014

An altered look about the hills;
    A Tyrian light the village fills;
    A wider sunrise in the dawn;
    A deeper twilight on the lawn;
    A print of a vermilion foot;
    A purple finger on the slope;
    A flippant fly upon the pane;
    A spider at his trade again;
    An added strut in chanticleer;
    A flower expected everywhere;
    An axe shrill singing in the woods;
    Fern-odors on untravelled roads, –
    All this, and more I cannot tell,
    A furtive look you know as well,
    And Nicodemus’ mystery
    Receives its annual reply.

Emily Dickinson

scilla





Praise Proclaim

6 04 2014

Praise ye the Lord, His praise proclaim,
And, O my soul, bless thou His Name;
Yea, I will sound His praise abroad
And ever bless the Lord, my God.

Trust not in man who soon must die,
But on the living God rely;
Most blest the man whose help is He
That made the heaven and earth and sea.

His truth unchanged shall ever stand,
He saves from strong oppression’s hand,
In Him the sad a helper find,
He feeds the poor and heals the blind.

Thy God shall reign for evermore,
Praise Him, O Zion, and adore;
The Lord is heaven’s eternal King,
To Him all praise and honor bring.

Adapted for the 1912 Psalter from Psalm 146.

 

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April Prayer

5 04 2014

  ’T is the noon of the spring-time, yet never a bird
In the wind-shaken elm or the maple is heard;
For green meadow-grasses wide levels of snow,
And blowing of drifts where the crocus should blow;
Where wind-flower and violet, amber and white,
On south-sloping brooksides should smile in the light,
O’er the cold winter-beds of their late-waking roots
The frosty flake eddies, the ice-crystal shoots;
And, longing for light, under wind-driven heaps,
Round the boles of the pine-wood the ground-laurel creeps,
Unkissed of the sunshine, unbaptized of showers,
With buds scarcely swelled, which should burst into flowers
We wait for thy coming, sweet wind of the south!
For the touch of thy light wings, the kiss of thy mouth;
For the yearly evangel thou bearest from God,
Resurrection and life to the graves of the sod!
Up our long river-valley, for days, have not ceased
The wail and the shriek of the bitter northeast,
Raw and chill, as if winnowed through ices and snow,
All the way from the land of the wild Esquimau,
Until all our dreams of the land of the blest,
Like that red hunter’s, turn to the sunny southwest.
O soul of the spring-time, its light and its breath,
Bring warmth to this coldness, bring life to this death;
Renew the great miracle; let us behold
The stone from the mouth of the sepulchre rolled,
And Nature, like Lazarus, rise, as of old!
Let our faith, which in darkness and coldness has lain,
Revive with the warmth and the brightness again,
And in blooming of flower and budding of tree
The symbols and types of our destiny see;
The life of the spring-time, the life of the whole,
And, as sun to the sleeping earth, love to the soul.

John Greenleaf Whittier

field and forest 2





Impressions

28 03 2014

Originally posted on Wings of the Dawn:

This morning, some parts of the paths were still ice-covered. As I was walking, I noticed how many leaves had left impressions in the hardened snow and ice.

impressions 019Gentle impressions and their impact might not be noticed immediately.
However, over time, what they touch changes.

In what might seem hard and cold on the surface,
God can work miracles, for His glory and our good.

“Lord, teach us to be kind and gentle.
Impress Your love on our hearts and deep within our souls,
So that we can in turn touch those around us.
Help us leave impressions of Your gentleness.”

impressions 015Put on then, as God’s chosen ones,
holy and beloved,
compassionate hearts, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience,
Colossians 3:12
~
(Pictures and Prose by Heidi Viars, 2014)

View original





Conversation

28 03 2014

Conversation

 

An aspiring female journalist assigns herself to a stranger she meets outside a street mission in a city located in the Midwestern United States. She has been instructed by a university professor to broaden her experience, to go to new places and meet new people. This man captures her attention because, at least in her sight, he seems to be an American Indian. She insists on shadowing him for a day.

The man is himself trailing someone, a young woman who has been on the run for the past year, not just from her family and school, but also from the police, and even from human civilization. As the pursuit proceeds, the man increasingly becomes as much a mystery as the runaway woman. The journalist cannot help but seek answers to such questions as, “Just who is this guy, really? A police officer? A private detective? An estranged lover? A bounty hunter? An assassin? An avatar? Who or what is this woman to him?”

Others are after the runaway woman, too: they include a band of modern-day renegade Indians. Eventually, everyone collides inside an art gallery where they become decisively engaged in a struggle between death and life. It becomes the choice of the woman everyone seeks to turn and fulfill their quests.

Conversation: Walking the Talk by D. Raymond-Wryhte is now available at Amazon as an electronic book.

 

 





Spring on the Hills

24 03 2014

Ah, shall I follow, on the hills,
The Spring, as wild wings follow?
Where wild-plum trees make wan the hills,
Crabapple trees the hollow,
Haunts of the bee and swallow?

In redbud brakes and flowery
Acclivities of berry;
In dogwood dingles, showery
With white, where wrens make merry?
Or drifts of swarming cherry?

In valleys of wild strawberries,
And of the clumped May-apple;
Or cloudlike trees of haw-berries,
With which the south winds grapple,
That brook and byway dapple?

With eyes of far forgetfulness,
Like some wild wood-thing’s daughter,
Whose feet are beelike fretfulness,
To see her run like water
Through boughs that slipped or caught her.

O Spring, to seek, yet find you not!
To search, yet never win you!
To glimpse, to touch, but bind you not!
To lose, and still continue,
All sweet evasion in you!

In pearly, peach-blush distances
You gleam; the woods are braided
Of myths; of dream-existences…
There, where the brook is shaded,
A sudden splendor faded.

O presence, like the primrose’s,
Again I feel your power!
With rainy scents of dim roses,
Like some elusive flower,
Who led me for an hour!

Madison Julius Cawein

Redbud in Pink





Saint Patrick’s “Breastplate”

16 03 2014

I bind unto myself today
The strong Name of the Trinity,
By invocation of the same,
The Three in One and One in Three.

I bind this day to me for ever.
By power of faith, Christ’s incarnation;
His baptism in the Jordan river;
His death on the Cross for my salvation;
His bursting from the spicèd tomb;
His riding up the heavenly way;
His coming at the day of doom;

I bind unto myself today.

I bind unto myself the power
Of the great love of the cherubim;
The sweet ‘well done’ in judgment hour,
The service of the seraphim,
Confessors’ faith, Apostles’ word,
The Patriarchs’ prayers, the Prophets’ scrolls,
All good deeds done unto the Lord,
And purity of virgin souls.

I bind unto myself today
The virtues of the starlit heaven,
The glorious sun’s life-giving ray,
The whiteness of the moon at even,
The flashing of the lightning free,
The whirling wind’s tempestuous shocks,
The stable earth, the deep salt sea,
Around the old eternal rocks.

I bind unto myself today
The power of God to hold and lead,
His eye to watch, His might to stay,
His ear to hearken to my need.
The wisdom of my God to teach,
His hand to guide, His shield to ward,
The word of God to give me speech,
His heavenly host to be my guard.

Against the demon snares of sin,
The vice that gives temptation force,
The natural lusts that war within,
The hostile men that mar my course;
Or few or many, far or nigh,
In every place and in all hours,
Against their fierce hostility,
I bind to me these holy powers.

Against all Satan’s spells and wiles,
Against false words of heresy,
Against the knowledge that defiles,
Against the heart’s idolatry,
Against the wizard’s evil craft,
Against the death wound and the burning,
The choking wave and the poisoned shaft,
Protect me, Christ, till Thy returning.

Christ be with me, Christ within me,
Christ behind me, Christ before me,
Christ beside me, Christ to win me,
Christ to comfort and restore me.
Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ in quiet, Christ in danger,
Christ in hearts of all that love me,
Christ in mouth of friend and stranger.

I bind unto myself the Name,
The strong Name of the Trinity;
By invocation of the same.
The Three in One, and One in Three,
Of Whom all nature hath creation,
Eternal Father, Spirit, Word:
Praise to the Lord of my salvation,
Salvation is of Christ the Lord.

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