Thoroughly Alive

We must hunger after the beautiful and the good...


A poem to begin again...

Well, friends. Here I am again.

I don't think I will ever master the rhythm of constant blogging but I will always stop back in and take up the good, slow beat once more. The problem this time is that I got home from England and was promptly deluged with the details I've put on hold for the past 8 months, including the small rhythms of soul care, of silence, and time with family. It's taken me a bit to find that old song of routine, to fit my mind and time to the music and make it my own sweet tune.

I'm almost to the point where I could write again, set thoughts out like seedlings to grow into ideas under the summer sky. I'm starting back here by re-posting a poem I wrote last year during a grace of an unexpected trip to Devon. In that halcyon week, I spent most of my time stretched out under dappled sky, with sand or the scratch of wild grass on my skin. I got close to that good earth of God's and felt the slow pulse of it reset the beat of my heart and soul. That's what I'm after again these days so I'll set the rhythm of my future writing to the words I discovered last year. A day of summer grace to you all.

HAIL King! Of sea-flung wind, And far-gemmed marshes bending Low, those cliffs That jut rough shoulders ‘gainst the sky, And stand unbent, Amidst the tug and shove Of sea; the heave! of blue, and Ho! of God’s past motion, Spirit’s hover o’er the ocean In the hush and dusk Before our time began.

Hail King! Of light unbridled And the seagulls plunging wild And hard as daylight, riled, flings a storm To earth. The surf foams up, A breathless, frenzied rush Of dark to catch the light, And deep to touch the soft, white Skin of shore, the gentle sand The roughened ocean waves Adore.