Thom, I hear you. Our spiritual life is the intimate relationship we can know, and that knowing is sometimes static;at other times fluid. I've written here before that my writing is not necessarily autobiographical. I draw from my experiences and try to put them in a context that resonates with the reader. Writers are conduits. My goal as writer is to get out of the way and and get better at invoking a dialog with the reader.
Christine, if you can identify with the work, then I've accomplished something.
Susan, your poem is very well done. I love the image it leaves in my mind. Yes, it would be nice if serenity could be found rolled between the fingers as with a rosary.
I like what you've done with the place. The name of your blog is really great too...you with those black eyes...beautiful.
This is so beautiful! I was really moved by Lilacs and Lemons as well, and so enjoyed reading through your blog. Such an expressive and thoughtful writer. I'm in awe.
I want to thank you for visiting and for your encouraging words. I really am my own worst enemy at times.
This took me right back to Catholic grammar school. We had to attend church each first Friday of the month and I'd sit there with my rosary in my hands, playing with the beads, and pretending to pray. It was domforting, though, more like worry beads.
Nice. But you know, lots of people think you can roll serenity between your fingers, much of the time, anyway, and I'm inclined to think they're right.
The idea that serenity only comes, disembodied, to the Elect strikes me as possibly an old Calvinist superstition, which might not hold up under empirical investigation.
But anyway, it's a lovely poem. I'm just sayin' :->
19 comments:
Oh yes...if only...
Love the poem, and love the new look! It's different, slightly edgy, and very cool :)
(Thanks for all your support, Susan. It means a lot, especially from someone as talented as you are.)
The new layout is way better!
Thanks Noah. I was pretty psyched about it. It's an early birthday gift.
I loved this, as I'm having some spiritual "issues" of late. The new template is amazing, too.
Your new design is very nice! The colors and the header drawing are terrific.
I doubt this poem has anything to do with rolling your own cigarettes, but somehow that's what I thought of.
I like the idea of rolling scented rosemary beads in my fingers, and it does calm me down. Same with mala beads.
But if I'm having an axiety attack, I'm out of luck. Maybe this is what you mean here.
Thanks Thom and C,
Thom, I hear you. Our spiritual life is the intimate relationship we can know, and that knowing is sometimes static;at other times fluid. I've written here before that my writing is not necessarily autobiographical. I draw from my experiences and try to put them in a context that resonates with the reader. Writers are conduits. My goal as writer is to get out of the way and and get better at invoking a dialog with the reader.
Christine, if you can identify with the work, then I've accomplished something.
Susan, your poem is very well done. I love the image it leaves in my mind. Yes, it would be nice if serenity could be found rolled between the fingers as with a rosary.
I like what you've done with the place. The name of your blog is really great too...you with those black eyes...beautiful.
Sandy
Love the new look.
The poem is gentle, like a whispered prayer.
This is my first time at your blog, and I really enjoyed all it offers.
I was just thinking this morning how the routine of touching things, the same things, is so reassuring. This captures it exquisitely.
This is so beautiful! I was really moved by Lilacs and Lemons as well, and so enjoyed reading through your blog. Such an expressive and thoughtful writer. I'm in awe.
I want to thank you for visiting and for your encouraging words. I really am my own worst enemy at times.
Looking forward to more of your work...
i like the way you put the spacing in the first line.. somehow the imagery blosommed after that...thank you
Appropriately rueful. A neat parcel of words, this!
I like the new blog look.
..if serenity could be rolled between fingers...
This has set me into another direction. I am inspired to write something now. I will let you know.
Thanks for posting this..
This took me right back to Catholic grammar school. We had to attend church each first Friday of the month and I'd sit there with my rosary in my hands, playing with the beads, and pretending to pray. It was domforting, though, more like worry beads.
Wow -- smack bam... that was a powerful punch. Well written!
Nice. But you know, lots of people think you can roll serenity between your fingers, much of the time, anyway, and I'm inclined to think they're right.
The idea that serenity only comes, disembodied, to the Elect strikes me as possibly an old Calvinist superstition, which might not hold up under empirical investigation.
But anyway, it's a lovely poem. I'm just sayin' :->
Hi Dale,I hear you. Thanks for taking time to read and comment. :-)
I love the ambiguity of this. Made me want to smoke cigarettes again. Sacriligious? Maybe. I want more.
What a visceral, sensual poem. Nicely done!
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