Phone Finds: Leaving

My phone storage is full due to my incessant note-taking...although I carry a notebook on me constantly, I somehow still find bits of poetry, philosophical musings, and novel brain-showers caught beneath the screen. Here's one from my final morning in Scotland last summer:

Sit

I might just sit here for a bit. Here, where I am at once everyone and no one. Where I can hear men talking, dog-walking. Where I can watch mothers and children- ducks, squirrels, human. Where I can trace the birds’ antiphony from tree to tree. Where I am just another flower refreshed by a…

“To Leave” (and a snippet)

Let me premise this by saying that this is not intentionally about death and I am not dying (except to get out of school). Once again, this was inspired by my favorite little running route and the feathered friends who live there. (Speaking of birds, there is a little snippet at the end of this…

Mariners

We are mariners, mariners we, made for the land, parted from sea from that second day and still - striving as on the earth to fill- drawn by its alluring, billowy waves- we drink down the depths to find watery graves. . We hear the call, that age-old call, a whisper first, a breeze enthralls,…

Tenebrae: a sonnet

Awhirl before my eyes did swirl the sparks As one by one the candles turned to smoke And sitting there in silent, stillest dark, A flicker burned within and I awoke. . I felt a pang for that dear body broke That bled betwixt time and eternity. It seemed I saw His image in the…

Study Break?

What should I be doing? Studying for my 20th Century Music History midterm. What am I doing? Learning to write rondel poetry. But, if I use the poetry (below) as a way to discuss the artistic philosophies in this class, does it count as studying?   "A Rondel to Order in Art" It is ‘oft…

Mirror, Mirror had a Great Fall

There is a story to be found in anything and, I am finding, that there is also a theology to be found in any story. I feel this poem is an apt example of enjoying the beauty of an old tale reimagined while contemplating a truth that shimmered in the retelling. Mirror, Mirror Had Great…

Weekday Communion: a little poem

In God alone my soul finds rest And oft I meet Him here: In the quiet, dim narthex, Breathing the churchly air. Babies here have been baptized And joyful couples wed; Funerals tearful bade goodbyes And pow’rful scriptures read. But as I sit now quietly- No sound but for the organ- I rather think this…

Ordinary Beauty

Sometimes I want to weep At unnoticed beauty - That's not seen for its shyness, Dismissed, "ordinary." It's in the chatter of the birds, The smell of mesquite trees, The ebb and flow of whispered words Caught by th'eavesdropping breeze. In foamy sips of coffee In silly, printed cups, And in the dreamy things I…