Sunday, March 24, 2013

the sun was warm today


  1. These are the refrains I would like to sing now in my Sunday morning praise service. The verses balanced with the chorus, repeated, where the caterpillar trembles in the hand of a lover, over and over again. I appreciate the subtlety of your voice, the despair almost second-hand, the gentleness of this transition we are in between heaven and hell and back to heaven.

  2. i smile reading the familiar experience of travelling these back roads, "the slopes washboard runnel, jounce and skid". it is just this! and then i am arrested at the void of the heart and again with the blubbering infidel, but led to smile again at you as you choose the "worse road". (who chooses worse roads? :) all planes shift in and out of one another, the white, the black and the grey. nowhere is safe or pure. this is the way, isn't it, always with the wolf, always with nature breaking its way into opportunity one way or another and opportunity isn't always forgiving. it is often complicated. even though the day is warm, it lends little warmth and yet it is all the warmth there is. sometimes it is enough to take one's shirt off in the snow. sometimes even the sun causes one to draw up one's collar.

    i think nothing is without weight, note and order in this poem, or balance. it is a difficult worship.