1050. Painting is silent poetry, and poetry is painting that speaks. ~Plutarch

January 28, 2016 by nataliescarberry

I would define, in brief,
the poetry of words as
the rhythmical creation of beauty.
~Edgar Allan Poe

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Musical Notation: 1 The physicality of the religious poets should not be taken idly.  He or she, who loves God, will look most deeply into His works. Clouds are not only vapor, but shape, mobility, silky sacks of nourishing rain. The pear orchard is not only profit, but a paradise of light. The luna moth, who lives but a few days, sometimes only a few hours, has a pale green wing whose rim is like a musical notation. Have you noticed?

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We had a dog once that adored flowers; no matter how briskly she went through the fields, she must stop and consider the lilies, tiger lilies, and other blossoming things along her way. Another dog of our household loved sunsets and would run off in the evenings to the most western part of the shore and sit down on his haunches for the whole show, that pink and peach colored swollenness. Then home he would come trotting in the alpenglow, that happy dog. ~Mary Oliver

The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands. Day after day they pour forth speech; night after night they reveal knowledge. They have no speech, they use no words; no sound is heard from them. Yet their voice goes out into all the earth, their words to the ends of the world. ~Psalm 19:1-4 ✝

**All images via Pinterest; collages by Natalie

1035. To give vent now and then to his/her feelings, whether of pleasure or discontent, is a great ease to a woman’s/man’s heart. ~Edited quote by Francesco Guicciardini

January 11, 2016 by nataliescarberry

Clouds open up into rain,
You too should release your pain.
~Terri Guillemets

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We are dealing with the probability of something very, very sad for James and I. Our daughter’s husband quit his job before Christmas, and he has applied and interviewed with a place in Colorado Springs, Colorado, a job that he really, really wants and for which he is well-qualified. After the interview last Friday, they told him there were 3, including him, that would be considered for the job and that they would let him know this week. Nikki is our only child and so this is an extremely difficult prospect for both James and I, but my husband is taking it harder than I am at least for now. We feel like we’re just waiting for an axe to fall that will cut us off from them and our grandchildren. At this point James can barely talk about it or consider their suggestion that we move there with them if Chris gets the job and they decide to go. What makes it traumatic in a way for James, is that he and his brother were abandoned by their mother after she and his dad divorced. She just didn’t come home one day nor did she leave a note of any kind. So the two of them were taken in by their grandparents where they lived until they finished school. Needless to say, what his mother did left a deep scar in James’ heart and psyche which keeps him from dealing well with any kind of separation, and I’m hurting as much for him in this as I am at the possible move of our daughter and her family to Colorado. Intellectually we know that they have a right to their own life wherever that might be, that we truly do want them to be happy, and that things will work out for the best, but right now our hurting hearts are overriding anything our mind has to say about it all. So if I seen distant or not too responsive this week, please forgive me, but aching hearts sometimes struggle just to breathe.

…“Why does your face look so sad when you are not ill? This can be nothing but sadness of heart.” ~Excerpt from Nehemiah 2:2 ✝

**Images via Pinterest; collage created by Natalie

1020. Come, see the north wind’s masonry… ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

December 28, 2015 by nataliescarberry

Through the sharp air  a flaky torrent flies…
and hides the gloomy skies;
the fleecy clouds their chilly bosoms bare,
and shed their substances on the floating air.
~George Crabbe

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What a weekend weather wise it has been! We’ve been dealt nearly the full gamut of frequent Texas weather patterns in the last 72 hours–high winds, thunder, lightning, heavy rains, flash floods, hail, tornados. And then as if that were not enough, for good measure Mother Nature also threw in an earthquake and a white-out blizzard in the Panhandle and a few other places. On top of that I woke up here to find a smattering of snow on the ground which given that it didn’t freeze overnight nor was it 32 degrees or below when I awoke is very unusual. About the only thing that got skipped the last few days was the intense heat of summer although on Christmas Day the temperature did climb to almost 80 degrees. So hellooooo Winter! It seems you HAVE arrived ready to go, ready to wash off last year’s grime, and bringing nighttime temps right at freezing or below for the next 10 days. Makes me kind of wonder, and a bit fearfully I might add, what more Mother Nature could have up her perfidious sleeve for truly she’s demonstrated once again that she can be most untrustworthy at times.

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Cleanse me with hyssop, and I will be clean; wash me, and I will be whiter than snow. ~Psalm 51:7 ✝

**Weather image found on Facebook; all other images taken by Natalie; collages created by Natalie

955. My sun sets to rise again. ~Elizabeth Barrett Browning

November 18, 2015 by nataliescarberry

The sun does not shine for a few trees and
flowers, but for the wide world’s joy.
~Henry Ward Beecher

Have you ever seen anything
in your life more wonderful
than the way the sun,
every evening, relaxed and easy,
floats toward the horizon
and into the clouds or the hills,
or the rumpled sea, and is gone–
and how it slides again
out of the blackness, every morning,
on the other side of the world,
like a red flower streaming upward
on its heavenly oils,
say, on a morning in early light,
at its perfect imperial distance–
and have you ever felt
for anything such wild love–
do you think there is anywhere,
in any language,
a word billowing enough
for the pleasure that fills you,
as the sun reaches out,
as it warms you as you stand there,
empty-handed–or have you too
turned from this world–
or have you too gone crazy
for power, for things?
~Mary Oliver

And when you look up to the sky and see the sun, the moon and the stars—all the heavenly array—do not be enticed into bowing down to them and worshiping things the Lord your God has apportioned to all the nations under heaven. ~Deuteronomy 4:19 ✝

**Images via Pinterest; collage by Natalie

890. The music of summer yet flutters in the middle of the day around Autumn seeking its former nest. ~Edited and adapted excerpt by Rabindranath Tagore

October 2, 2015 by nataliescarberry

Early mornings are cool now though autumn is still young.
Dew on the lotus scatters pure perfume;
Wind on the bamboos gives off a gentle tinkling.
~Edited and adapted excerpt
by Po Chu (772-864)

The harvest moon hung round and high
It dodged clouds high in the sky,
The stars winked down their love and mirth
The Autumn season was giving birth.
Oh, it must be October…
~Pearl N. Sorrels

I will dance
The dance of day’s dawning
And scattering fragrances

I will dance
The dance of day’s closing
And twinkling stars

The whole earth is filled with awe at your wonders; where morning dawns, where evening fades, you call forth songs of joy. ~Psalm 65:8 ✝

**Lotus image via Pinterest

822. Color is my day-long obsession, joy and torment. ~Claude Monet

July 28, 2015 by nataliescarberry

Gardens are a
form of autobiography. ~Sydney Eddison

I know that if odour were visible, as colour is,
I’d see the summer garden in rainbow clouds.
~Robert Bridges

When I was in college we used to discuss frequently an old philosophical question about the 5 famous people we’d like to meet and get to know. At that time I’m sure my list was different from what it is today, and back then I was never really sure who would top the list. Though I’m still not sure about who all five would be, I do know for certain who would top the list, Jesus Christ and Claude Monet, and in that order.

A soulmate is defined in the dictionary as a person ideally suited to another as in a close friend or a romantic partner. Perhaps not in a romantic sense but Jesus is the Lover of my soul and therefore is my eternal and divine soulmate, and I’ve long thought of Claude Monet as a soulmate, someone with whom I would love to have been close friends. Needless to say our trip to Giverny confirmed and solidified Monet’s spot at number 2. Sadly there are hundreds and hundreds of people who visit Giverny each day, and we were prodded along much like cattle being driven down a chute so it was hard to get really nice photos or spend as much time lingering as I would have liked. But I did get some to which I have added to a few more that I found on Pinterest and the internet so as to try and give you all an idea of the exquisite beauty of Monet’s gardens and the charm of his house. If you look carefully at the map in the opening photo, you may be able to get an idea at least of the scope and size of Giverny. There are literally flowers EVERYWHERE, and they are scattered over acres and acres. So here we go on today’s leg of my little photo tour of Giverny. Enjoy.

Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength. ~Deuteronomy 6:5 ✝

773. Oft when the still, white dawn lifted the clouds and pushed away the darkness, I felt it like a glory in my heart. ~adapted excerpt from “Joy of the Morning” by Edwin Markham

June 16, 2015 by nataliescarberry

When the first light of sun dawns, bless you.
When the long day is done, bless you.
In your smiles and your tears, bless you.
Through each day of your years, bless you.
~Irish Blessing

I saw the first light, fore-running the sun,
gather in a cup of the eastern cloud,
gather and grow and brim, till at last it spilled like milk
over the golden lip, to smear the dark face of heaven from end to end.
From east to north, and back to south again, the clouds slackened,
the stars, trembling on the verge of extinction, guttered in the dawn wind,
and the gates of day were ready to open at the trumpet…
~Mary Stewart

The flower in the photo is one of my Angel Trumpets. They only bloom at night, but sometimes I can still catch them fully open at dawn or shortly thereafter. When I’m lucky enough to find one at first light, I love the way it looks and feels like God’s glory is aglow in its heart.

He will make your righteous reward shine like the dawn, your vindication like the noonday sun. ~Psalm 37:6 ✝

740. The only noise now was the rain, pattering softly with the magnificent indifference of nature for the tangled passions of humans. ~Sherwood Smith

May 20, 2015 by nataliescarberry

The richness of the rain made me feel safe and protected;
I have always considered the rain to be healing—
a blanket—the comfort of a friend.
Without at least some rain in any given day,
or at least a cloud or two on the horizon,
I feel overwhelmed by the information of sunlight
and yearn for the vital, muffling gift of falling water.
~Douglas Coupland

Rain, what can I say of you
that hasn’t already been voiced by others?
But how could I ever remain silent in your presence
since you touch a chord somewhere deep within me?
For in your “magnificent indifference of nature”
you’re the gift that embues everything with life and vitality.
You, a healing elixir, comfort like a friend
as you travel continuously around the globe
falling  through space between heaven and earth.
You are mercy and grace in liquidity
set in motion in the beginning by Yahweh
who created you as well as all else here below.
Holy, holy, holy are you who refresh and cleanse by
removing dust and ashes  from earthly strivings.
Would that you, too, could wash away
humanity’s  hatred and the wanton destruction
of that which you come to bless and save.
~Natalie Scarberry

He(God) provides rain for the earth; he sends water on the countryside. ~Job 5:10 ✝

**Image via Pinterest

736. I was in love with the whole world and all that lived in its rainy arms. ~Louise Erdrich

May 16, 2015 by nataliescarberry

My poetry was born
between the hill and the river.
It took its voice  from the rain,
and like the timber,
it steeped itself in the forests.
~Pablo Neruda, Chilean poet and
winner of the Nobel Prize in literature

I expect there are many writers, like Neruda, as well as artists and musicians who have found a voice in the rain as it evokes strong emotions in the human heart. In some unfathomable way I even believe rain is wedded to the human soul. So it is that I am drawn into its web and mystery whenever it blesses this arid and often drought-ridden land where I live. I’m not only intoxicated by the sounds and sights of it but also the whole other level of interest it creates in the garden and other earthly places.

Like billowing clouds,
Like the incessant gurgle of the brook
The longing of the spirit can never be stilled.
~ St. Hildegard von Bingen

The Lord will open the heavens, the storehouse of his bounty, to send rain on your land in season and to bless all the work of your hands… ~Deuteronomy 28:12 ✝

**Upper collage created by Natalie from her photo archives; lower collage created from images via Pinterest

695. We are most alive when we’re in love. ~John Updike

April 6, 2015 by nataliescarberry

Tell me how many beads there are
In a silver chain  of evening rain,
Unravelled from the tumbling main,
And threading the eye of a yellow star: –
So many times do I love again.
~Thomas Lovell Beddoes

I have been in love more times than one,
thank the Lord. Sometimes it was lasting
whether active or not. Sometimes
it was all but ephemeral, maybe only
an afternoon, but not less real for that.
They stay in my mind, these beautiful people,
or anyway beautiful people to me, of which
there are so many. You, and you, and you,
whom I had the fortune to meet, or maybe
missed. Love, love, love, it was the
core of my life, from which, of course, comes
the word for the heart. And, oh, have I mentioned
that some of them were men and some were women
and some — now carry my revelation with you —
were trees. Or places. Or music flying above
the names of their makers. Or clouds, or the sun
which was the first, and the best, the most
loyal for certain, who looked so faithfully into
my eyes, every morning. So I imagine
such love of the world — its fervency, its shining, its
innocence and hunger to give of itself — I imagine
this is how it began.
~Mary Oliver

In Your unfailing love You will lead the people You have redeemed. In Your strength You will guide them to Your holy dwelling. ~Exodus 15:13 ✝