Forms
Within each Man exists the shape of Hope
For some, the Hope is well-formed
For others, the Hope is amorphous
But, to each, his Hope is his Own
Underpinning his Existence.
Category Archives: Notes
1431. It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas… ~Excerpt from lyrics written by Meredith Willson
**The Root of Jesse or the Tree of Jesse is an iconographic depiction of the Ancestors of Christ. It shows in a tree which rises from Jesse of Bethlehem, the father of King David. It originates in a passage in the Biblical Book of Isaiah which describes metaphorically the descent of the Messiah, and is accepted by Orthodoxy as referring to Jesus Christ.
There shall come forth a shoot from the stump of Jesse, and a branch shall grow out of his roots. ~Isaiah 11:1 ✝
**Image found on Pinterest; text added by Natalie
Peace
Peace is given birth
by compassion
and forgiveness,
not by power and
the fight for power.© 2017 Dennis Ference
1430. I don’t want to end up simply having visited the world. ~Mary Oliver
The universe is full of radiant
suggestion…over and over in the butterfly
we see the idea of transcendence.
In the forest we see not the inert
but the aspiring. In water that departs forever
and forever returns, we experience eternity.
~Mary Oliver
Is there some “voice” you turn to when your heart and soul needs a spark, something to satiate a vague longing, or to get your creative juices flowing, or something to make you feel acutely alive, or when you need some wise rumination or conjecture that transcends the routine and the mundane commentaries. I know that Scripture and the teachings of Jesus can do that, but as a mortal human being, I also need the take on such things from other mortal humans. I need wise musings by kindred spirits who voice things that comfort me and help me feel less alone and isolated. I know, I know; I have a loving husband and a loving family and friends, but don’t you ever long for someone who knows you better than anyone else deep down inside in those places you, seldom if ever, bring to the surface. You know, the things that touch you profoundly and you’re not entirely sure why or where it comes from, and you need another’s thoughts to help you understand what you feel and how intensely you feel it. I’ve never been anything except a daughter, a wife, and a mother, but there is a Natalie way down in there that I’m not sure I could put into words so that they could understand how or what it feels like to be the me of me, not the one who has always tried to live up to the expectations of others, but the one who has always wondered what it would have been like to strike out on her own and follow her own dreams. This is not a complaint for I have been truly blessed all my life. Nor does it mean that I’ve never faced great sorrow or loss or coped with chronic pain. Everyone has “crosses to bear,” but we don’t have to let such things define and/or decide who we are! Perhaps that’s why literature has always been a great source of illumination for me because I believe writer’s are always digging down into that same kind of well and attempting to bring to the surface what they find therein.
The most regretful people on earth
are those who felt the call to creative work,
who felt their own creative power
restive and uprising, and gave to it
neither power no time.
~Mary Oliver
Many writers fit the bill that I described above, and I quote them frequently, but it has only been in the last few years that I have found my forever go-to first person for such things. This remarkable woman is a modern-day, living poet, and I have bought to date everything she has published for I don’t think I’ve ever read works by another that touch me the way she does and explain what I feel inside any better than she. I have shared some of her works before as well as in this post, and in the coming days I’m going to post quite a few more for I’ve been “hungry” again of late and as always have found “nourishing food” in her words. I hope you to enjoy her musings and offerings.
You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees for a
hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal
of your body love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours,
and I will tell you mine.
~Mary Oliver
If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you. ~James 1:5 ✝
**Image via Pinterest
1429. Autumn, meek and lackluster, came…
late with little rain to its credit,
and now the time draws near
for winter’s arrival, leaving me wondering
if it too will be mild and characterless.
Nevertheless…
To-day I think
Only with scents, – scents dead leaves yield,
And bracken, and wild carrot’s seed,
And the square mustard field;
Odours that rise
When the spade wounds the root of tree,
Rose, currant, raspberry, or goutweed,
Rhubarb or celery;
The smoke’s smell, too,
Flowing from where a bonfire burns
The dead, the waste, the dangerous,
And all to sweetness turns.
It is enough
To smell, to crumble the dark earth,
While the robin sings over again
Sad songs of Autumn mirth.
~”Digging,” a poem byz
Edward Thomas
And without doubt the lesser is blessed by the greater. ~Hebrews 7:7
✝
**Images via Pixabay
Today’s Quote
Ocean of tears
“Our death is our wedding with eternity.”
― Jalaluddin Mevlana Rumi
i’ve swum in an ocean
of my tears,
i’ve faced the worst,
entombed by fear.
i’ve clung to love,
and held lost dreams,
i’ve searched the night
for transclucent beams.
i’ve known Your presence
in darkened void,
embraced by grace
though hope destroyed!
and as I slowly return to life,
I’m drenched in the fragrance of the Divine!
Today’s Quote
Thought for the day
“Living life through the lens of grace.” – LionelSoftest touch
Dreams stir alive the thoughts
a thousand feathers floating on a sea
blue shades and hues take flight
and waves wash over
a form of silence.
Lingering notes fill the senses
of a hundred birds in flight
soaring over the whitest clouds
as the rain falls gently down.
A hush is then heard as the shower abates,
random drops linger then disappear
and the patterns of black pinpoints settle
my mind plays the mantra once more,
ten prayers to the lingering lost.
I stand on the precipice
and watch the unfolding of calm,
as breath moves in, out and through
I stand in this space
as one.
Sacred Touches 