On Finding Contentment

http://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/

Contentment is not found within

The resurrection of the past

If I could be a girl again

A year would soon be memory-cast

The citizen of earth is born

With naught but dreams on which to fly

Time states its wealth by what we learn

He wins the game who dares to try

Trouble and luck have lucent wings

Both happen to the faint or brave

To hope in resurrected things

Is but to lag in history’s grave

Contentment is not something sought

Nor found in memory’s purple mist

Contentment lives within our thought

In moments only that exist

Janet

…but if they could resurrect that old willow-tree, I would be content to climb it:)

Life's Deepest Pleasure

We crave the meeting of fingertips, lips

Flesh against flesh intertwined

But there is bliss much keener than this

In the meeting of mind against mind

Touch pleasing touch is a tender-sweet blush

Yet cannot compare, I find

To the wildly intense and pulse-quickening rush

Of mind exposed against mind

The True Light

We behold Him even now

Though we cannot comprehend

The fullness that His love bestowed

As He put on flesh for men

He put on thus, meek flesh for men

This One that Is, before Time was

Conceived, not of the will of them

But by the holy will of God

And by the holy will of God

He brought true light upon the earth

This true Light remains till now

As testament and Living Word

As testament and Living Word

Full of mercy, hope and grace

Moses law had never heard

A proclamation such as this

A proclamation such as this

Power to become His sons

Cleansed from all unrighteousness

Washed in the blood of heaven’s One

Washed in the blood of heaven’s One

His Light remains to lead the way

Word became flesh, God’s only Son

And we still have His Word today

We still have His word today

Darkness still cannot comprehend

But oh, to those who have believed

He dwells within the heart of them

Janet~

I was reading John 1 this morning.

One of my favorite passages, not only at Christmas

But forever.

He is the True Light.

I’ve been pondering this True Light since I read Vivinfrance’s poem the other night.

Then Mary wrote about the mother Mary and as I thought of Mary's humility and acceptance of God’s word it convicted me. We have His word still, full of grace and truth and Light. He is the True Light.

Venice

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eFl7L4j5bpM&feature=endscreen&NR=1
(this video sparked the following poem)

The architecture

In the nest of a dove

Is lovely to the spectator

That is in love…

We were lost in blue that day

Blue sky and blue sea

But all I really remember

Were your blue eyes watching me

There was sound all around

But we didn’t hear

As the gondoliers hailed each other

I felt your lips on my ear

And the wind swooping through the canal

Rousing rivulets of desire

As the sun fell, a molten ball

Melting across the water

While we glanced sympathetically

At stragglers on the pier

Lost in books and newspapers

Or envious stares...

The architecture

In the nest of a dove

Is breath-taking

To the spectator in love

We didn’t need Venice

To make us smile

But I think Venice needed us

Just for a little while…

J~

And Here We Dance...

She tilts her head

In delightful laughter

While words like Sicily and Rome

Roll off her lips

As if they were

Her summer homes

And so they have been

Held between fingertips

As she turns the pages

In a scene

Of people and marketplaces

Where she has stood on shaded terraces

To watch the sun set

Over rolling vineyards

He comes to her now

Against the cool blue

Mediterranean backdrop

But poetry is not enough

To bridge the ocean

Or the deserts

Between hunger and love

Though her throat is parched

With burning of necessity

She is sandwiched

Between tumbled Canadian sky

And golden bars of sunlight

Sprawled across umber fallow

In the encroaching eventide

They dance; Sinatra knows every word

To her thoughts

And eyes will always speak more openly

Than the ineptness of speech

As she feels his heartbeat

Against her chest

In mutual anguish

And tenderness

For imminent departure

Is surely love’s

Most passionate threshold

Nobody visits this lighthouse

It is too late and too cold

They have all night to dance

And say good-bye.

She closes the book...

The clock in the tower strikes nine

J~

Unwrapping Moments

She watches
Caught between the present
And the past
As her son’s awkward
Attempts at gift-wrapping
Bring laughter from us
And mumbling from him…
As he wraps
She unwraps
Moments
Stored sacredly
Where she can ponder them
In her heart
Moments being fashioned
Into memories
Even now
By hands
Caught somewhere between
A boy
And a man…

Janet~

It’s a tender-sweet stage…13.
The other night I asked him what was so funny
And his instant reply was unexpected…
“mom, guy humor”
And he never did tell me!

The verse below has been one of my favorites, for as long as I can remember..
Our hearts, the place we store our most cherished thoughts.

But Mary kept all these things and pondered them in her heart. Luke 2:19

Off the Cuff #3

http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/2011/12/thttp://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gifhursday-think-tank-78-off-cuff.html

Focus, she commanded
And tapped my head sharply with her pointer stick
I stared at the numbers blankly
And composed an answer, double-quick
How could I make her understand
My senses were merely blurred
By the alluring, blissful enchantment
Of this beautiful thing called a word?

Janet~

Off the Cuff #2

http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/2011/12/thursday-think-tank-78-off-cuff.htmlhttp://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif

Oh, yes they are free
They don’t cost you a dime
All they take from you
Is a small thing known as Time

Oh, yes they are free
This torturous chain
Of consonants and vowels
Life’s most pleasing pain

So if they should taunt
Grab them by their guile
And turn them into
Your personal style

Janet