Poetry Collage Prayer

Literature is not just beautiful; sometimes it also says exactly what I want to — or ought to — say.  Here are the two bits of poems I’ve been praying over the past two months:

OH, give us pleasure in the flowers today;
And give us not to think so far away
As the uncertain harvest; keep us here
All simply in the springing of the year.

Teach us to care and not to care
Teach us to sit still.
The first stanza is from the Robert Frost poem, A Prayer in Springtime
and reminds me to enjoy the part of life I'm in right now. 
The other quote is from T.S. Eliot's Ash Wednesday, and reminds me of the balance 
between trying one's hardest and placing the end results in God's hands.

As the sun shines through the curtain lace…

After the time changes, I am always surprised at how early the sun goes down.  The sun today at least made a grand departure — despite the fact that that departure happened around 5:30.  Early but glorious.  And a wonderful opportunity to stop, look, enjoy and attempt to capture.

And now some lyrics from one of my favorite Simon and Garfunkel songs, The Dangling Conversation:

It’s a still life water color,
Of a now late afternoon,
As the sun shines through the curtain lace
And shadows wash the room.
And we sit and drink our coffee
Couched in our indifference,
Like shells upon the shore
You can hear the ocean roar
In the dangling conversation
And the superficial sighs,
The borders of our lives.

And you read your Emily Dickinson,
And I my Robert Frost,
And we note our place with bookmarkers
That measure what we’ve lost.
Like a poem poorly written
We are verses out of rhythm,
Couplets out of rhyme,
In syncopated time
Lost in the dangling conversation
And the superficial sighs,
Are the borders of our lives.

Yes, we speak of things that matter,
With words that must be said,
“Can analysis be worthwhile?”
“Is the theater really dead?”
And how the room is softly faded
And I only kiss your shadow,
I cannot feel your hand,
You’re a stranger now unto me
Lost in the dangling conversation.
And the superficial sighs,
In the borders of our lives.

Affirmations

This week — or rather, this past month — has been a little stressful.  A lot, actually, and it has meant losing perspective fairly frequently.  So this morning I decided to jot down in my journal some true things that will still be true, no matter what happens today. And I would like to pass them on:

Whatever happens today:

~it cannot separate you from the love of God

~Mom and Dad and Grandma will still love you and believe in you

~you CAN do it

~you are not a bad person or even a bad teacher

~God is in control

~things will eventually get better

~you will probably still get married, someday

We’ll see if that helps keep some perspective on the day.