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Wednesday, March 10, 2021

This Holy Hush...



'The poet’s heart within us craves the holy hush.'
This is the last line in yesterday's Daily Bread Devotion..
My oldest sister called around 8:00 to see if I had read it yet,
and if it inspired any writing at my end😀 (bless her heart)

I had read it a few hours earlier as a quick devotion 
before an early morning tots-arrival day etc. .Beautiful!
I tried to squirrel the sparks away hoping the iron (or ashes) wouldn't grow too cold...

This, the last paragraph in the devotional, felt a poem :

"Nature sometimes seizes 
our attention in ways 
we don’t like
. Regardless of what happens to us 
or what we observe around us, 
each moment—
magnificent, 
menacing, 
or mundane—
can inspire 
our worship. 
The poet’s heart 
within us craves 
the holy hush."

By Tim Gustafson

'Worship inspired by the ways Nature applies its brush'








The poet's heart within us craves creation's holy hush
Worship inspired by the ways Nature applies its brush
Where That which no one can annul is strange and sweetly drawn 
Toward Something Invisible This Holy Hush will spawn 

In woodland's deep, or break of day, or plush-prism snowfall
Or twilight as it tucks away the rush of beck and call
Or earth after autumn has stripped leaf-mirth from lofty limb
Or August nights stippled with cricket-choir's vibrant hymn
 
...or as we bask in waning winter's pools of golden sun
Where heaven tips a blue flask full of gardens, dream-dirt spun
Or after tot is fast asleep and childish noise subdued
Like the calm after storms that little girls and boys exude 

In the crook of a countryside brook-bank as we recline
Wooed by a wand of willow-frond or wild cucumber vine 
Or as we gaze at silver haze of stars on black backdrop
Or as we drink the winsome ink of rain-song's drip and plop

Or as we taste the brickle from a 'cicle, maple-sweet
Or as we dash with dusty splash through pastures in bare feet
Or as we pause beneath the gauze of apple-blossomed arc
Something we cannot quite explain ignites a sacred spark

The poet's heart within us craves This Holy Hush, God-bent
Worship whispers awe's spark into a blaze of wonderment
Where That which no one can annul is drawn with tender stare  
 Toward Someone Invisible, but also walking there 

 © Janet Martin








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I hope you enjoyed your pause on this porch and thank-you for your visit!