By the River Tisza

Morning poetic sketches in Tokaj, Hungary 



July 31, 2018

Quaking leaves whisper of Wind unseen
     Breathing cool refreshment into tired days
As waters glide past like sand in an hourglass
     winking diamonds reflect greater Light

I hold it in my heart and linger.
_______

Jeremiah 17:7-8 

“Blessed is the man who trusts in the Lord,
     whose trust is the Lord.
8 He is like a tree planted by water,
     that sends out its roots by the stream,
and does not fear when heat comes,
     for its leaves remain green,
and is not anxious in the year of drought,
     for it does not cease to bear fruit.”
_______



August 1, 2018

The smell of fish hangs in the air
as a train rushes past,
shattering the pulsing stillness
with a burst

The gray sky’s veil presses down
across my cheeks,
meeting my heart where still lies
     a CHOICE
     who or what will animate my day?
_______

Psalm 3:3
“But you, O Lord, are a shield about me,
my glory, and the lifter of my head.”
_______



August 2, 2018

Twisted white trumpets dotting the hillside
speak of a daily choice:
     to unfurl their petals and embody God’s glory
     or keep their hearts closed and deprive the world of
          their unique beauty
Stooping with childlike delight, I give thanks that most have dared to 

open wide their hearts.

(As people, we can sometimes be twisted like these tiny flowers – at times simply because it is not yet time to unfurl and at other times because we resist doing so out of fear or mistrust. But in that “twisted” state, people are filled with such potential. I pray for God’s “unfurling” in each life. May we be like tiny trumpets declaring His glory and beauty through our lives.)
_______

August 3, 2018

Sunbeams kiss my skin
And wind through the willows
     brushes the warmth gently from my cheeks
Lapping waves rock the old boat
     as the dock pulses with the river’s life
A splash close by reminds me I’m not the only creature sharing this 

space 

_______

August 4, 2018

Wheels turn slowly in me this morning
     and in stillness I’m keenly aware of the deep inner movement of 

womanhood
I feel Your gentle welcome to come
     with all of me – the fragility & fatigue are not a surprise or 

despised by You
Me voici – Hineni – Here am I
     Draw me into You and use the raw materials of “me” to bless in 

Your world today
_______

Psalm 103:1, 13-14
“Bless the Lord, O my soul,
     and all that is within me,
bless his holy name!

13 As a father shows compassion to his children,
     so the Lord shows compassion to those who fear him.
14 For he knows our frame;
     he remembers that we are dust.”
_______

August 6, 2018

The river flows slowly today
Inching breathlessly toward the unknown
An early morning flutist’s notes lilt through the air,
     meeting my thankful heart
How good it feels to be still with my God.
_______

August 12, 2018

Blue & black damselflies flit by water’s edge
     as small fish wind their way below
One final morning to pause on river bank
     with my God
It is well with my soul

Rhythms of Rest

In 2017, I received the gift of being able to take my first sabbatical after 10 years in ministry. Right near the beginning of it, I attended a Creative Retreat with some fellow artists. This is a poem I wrote one morning overlooking the vineyards surrounding the farmhouse where we met.

Suspended

silence alive with morning

Birds drawing arcs between vine and sky

         Twittering of the new day

Sour and sweet mix on my tongue

         A dance of yogurt, banana, muesli –

the scrape of metal on porcelain signals finish

Steady chiming speaks of time

like the shrinking shadows between the

         straight regiments of vines

and growing sunlight on my cheek

A distant rooster call mingles with the

         murmur of voices and a frog speaks his mind

I welcome the timelessness in time –

         the brave being that slowly makes me whole

Sablet, France

May 28, 2017

“Wherever you are, be all there.” 

           Jim Elliot

“Listen to me in silence,

O Coastlands;

let the peoples renew their strength”

          Psalm 41:1a

“Quietness allows room for God to speak or to be silent. Both are gifts. Quietness stops crowding the Holy Spirit, elbowing aside God’s gentle presence. The end of striving makes room for dwelling.”
          Mark Buchanan, The Rest of God

(2nd photo courtesy of someone on the retreat, but I forget who.)

To See Anew & a window into my journey with writing

It's been a very long time since I have posted anything on this blog, but it's not because I haven't been writing. In December 2018, I gathered all the poems I could find that I had written between 2010 and 2018 and compiled them in a first little chapbook for some friends and family members, which I entitled "To See Anew."

It was my first foray into sharing some of my writing since graduating from college over a decade earlier, and it felt a bit like letting a fragile baby bird leave the nest. But I was encouraged by the gentleness with which my friends and family treated my "fledglings," and spurred on by their feedback to continue writing.

On January 9, 2019, feverish and in that peculiar liminal space between awake and asleep, I penned a few lines that, as I read now a year later, resonate with me once again:

There’s a greenhouse at the bottom of my garden

      where half-baked dreams go to live

            until it’s time to sprout (to bud, to become

            what they were meant to be)

They coexist in happy understanding that

      each belongs –

            no matter how undeveloped

It’s a messy but joyous place where

      each dream is safe to sit at a

      welcoming table in the peaceful

            gray haze

Over the past year, I've seen some of those "half-baked dreams" begin to take shape, while others remain in the hazy greenhouse. 

When they've blossomed in the form of a poem or bit of prose, I have jotted them down, not sure if I'd ever do something with them, but simply seeking to welcome them at the often-messy table of creativity.

As I continue on my quest "to see anew," I am learning to embrace the mess and unfinished nature of what I create, to take joy in the weight of an acorn in my palm, in the whisper of wind through pines stretching skyward overhead, in the taste of words rolling across my tongue...

A singer-songwriter friend of mine has an album called We are all rough drafts (Elise Massa). I love that! And it is true both of me and of my writing.

As a new year and a new decade begin, I feel moved to share some of my "fledglings" with a slightly larger audience than before by posting them on here in the coming weeks and months. May they spur you on to give shape or voice to some of your own "half-baked dreams" and create in your own unique ways.

As Christa Wells sings in "Shine,"

"Yes, we could lay our talents in the earth

We could pile on our doubt like dirt

Or we can shine - 

He shines his light through a prism

We give back what we're given

To color this world...

Be the friend you never had

Be the one to take a stand

Say it your way, say it your way, say it your own way...

Shine, we shine His light refracted"

As we all shine in 2020, I pray that the world will be richer, more loving, and more beautiful for it.