Tag Archives: light

tonight: these stars in my eyes

“The solution of the problem of life is life itself. Life is not attained by reason and analysis but first of all by living.”
-Thomas Merton

Well, I’ll not claim perfection, thank you very much, but I will claim life.
Oft pushing through the shadows, determined chasing down the light looks like
in the midst of the spills and messes, letting go without defeating
then ever, ever, ever strengthened stride.
With the sun tomorrow rising I’ve got these stars in my eyes-
this anticipation is not the slightest bit hyped-
It’s the wonder of a child, loved, forehead kissed and whispers, quiet, “good night.”
It’s deep roots and wide wings and solid ground and far flight.
It’s slumber rested and enemy ignored and wonder flaming from inside.
It’s hope and redemption coupled, dancing, and I will claim life.


tonight: and this is how you hope

“My proposal is not that we understand what the word ‘god’ means and manage somehow to fit Jesus into that. Instead, I suggest that we think historically about a young Jew, possessed of a desperately risky, indeed apparently crazy, vocation, riding into Jerusalem in tears, denouncing the Temple, and dying on a Roman cross–and that we take our courage in both hands and allow our meaning for the word ‘god’ to be recentered around that point.”
-N.T. Wright

it’s all so redefining this
that the light shines in the darkness
that the light cannot be overcome
and this is how you hope
because it is bigger and clearer and gone is the dim glass
when held up, reflecting, refracting
that the light shines in the darkness
is love searing straight to the core
is love healing hearts til they spill
to the point that tears fall
thinking, praying, dreaming, believing
and this is how you hope
and this is how we hope
and yes, yes, yes, we hope
that the light shines in the darkness
and we stand amazed as life restores

tonight: she

I once was lost but now I’m found, was blind but now I see.
-John Newton (Aretha sings it powerfully here.)

she, that girl crouched to catch light
she furrows brow and lingers to look
she learns that looking doesn’t always see
and in a world that objectifies and victimizes (and mesmerizes and glorifies)
she stumbles upon truth while hunkered low
love filters sight just so
light captures
beauty captivates
truth emerges
slowing down to speed up shutter
in spite of so much broken, battered, aching
hope emerges: she looks, slows to see
and oh, it grows

she scribbles notes on pages to remember
stacks them in corners
years later, they still yield a heart ever, ever longing for surrender

tonight: see.

“The soul helps the body and at certain moments raises it. It is the only bird that sustains its cage.”
-Victor Hugo via Parker Fitzgerald, whose work I love

darkness seen as light
darkness is as light
concept, mesmerize
shine on this and these soul(s)
so alive
see light; be bright (please)
even, even knowing night

today: Chesterton on Children for Advent

Trying to prepare my heart for Christmas while
working and
sleeping and
running and
buying and
wrapping and
playing and
not really making enough time for silence and solitude and contemplation
(I see a 2011 resolution post coming on…).

Seeing helps. Things like this:

Reading helps. Yesterday this:

“The fascination of children lies in this: that with each of them all things are remade, and the universe is put again upon its trial. As we walk the streets and see below us those delightful bulbous heads, three times too big for the body… we ought always primarily to remember that within every one of those heads there is a new universe, as new as it was on the seventh day of creation. In each of those orbs there is a new system of stars, new grass, new cities, a new sea.”
-GK Chesterton, excerpted from The Defendant (Oh what a wise man whose words ought to be considered.)

Please let me, let us, be childlike, even while ever-shedding childishness. Wide-eyed wonder goes along way in a world shrouded in light forcing darkness to yield. Yes.

tonight: light to live by

See the girl as her own new world
Though her home is on the surface she is still a universe

-Jason Mraz (yep, I went there)

stark little story left out unexpected
and then soaked to the core unpleasant
cold to the bone of a winter rain unprepared
the dark yielding questions and confusion unsought
everything tender and needing attention undivided
instead, to a corner, hiding.

full stop.

little child hands emptied of everything open
and then blanketed in the contrast of stepping out into expanse
because the tiniest sliver of light exposes
dark is nothing, nothing, nothing in that sliver, gone
and words spill on pages of a stark little story
because light spilled on them to live by, and it spills over, abiding.

the Light of men,
ohtherediscovery, endless, hope.full

tonight: these dead things, they live

“…An artist is a nourisher and a creator who knows that during the act of creation there is collaboration. We do not create alone.”
-p44 Walking on Water, Madeleine L’Engle

Palms up we hold these stories past rather lightly
and when they fell to the ground the crush seemed insurmountable
sure death. sure ache. surely never ending.
The kernels fell hard and the cracked earth swallowed them
eager and hungry while the wholeness of the gone-ness consumed
ever, ever, ever tears raining down and softening these harsh lines.
And then with an air of anti-climatic but real resolve
a sprout becomes a root becomes a bud becomes
something wholly other. something longed for. something good,
if different, and yes, maybe better.
These stories held rather lightly in the aftermath
with one look back over shoulder
reveals a different story, a better one indeed.
The ever-repeating metaphor: from death, life because
all these dark hues always laid bare by the light,
a role never, never reversed, from this we cannot hide
and so we stand with open hands but utterly sure-footed,