Union with God

Ineffable is the union of man and God in every act of the soul. The simplest person, who in his integrity worships God, becomes God: yet for ever and ever the influx of this better and universal self is new and unsearchable.

Ralph Waldo Emerson--from The Oversoul

Mountain Music

For Three Word Wednesday, prompt words are beat, pressure, and substance. Somewhat fragmented, but headed the right direction, I think.

Mountain Music

The music, freed

from wood and string

by work-worn fingers,

followed the rising moon

up over the hills,

beat and melody

borrowed from ancient times.

I always loved the

slower tunes, sung

in mournful yearning

for lost love

or Christ’s return,

pure feeling unconstrained

by marketability,

the pressure to succeed

reaching no further than

the neighbor’s heart.

Even now, so many years

gone and the substance

of life irrevocably changed,

I go out to see

the rising moon,

remembering

calloused hands

and The Savior is a-callin’.

Wyeth's Milk Cans

Very much enjoying Richard Wilbur's Collected Poems. Here's one reason why.

Wyeth's Milk Cans
by Richard Wilbur

Beyond them, hill and field
Harden, and summer's easy
Wheel-ruts lie congealed.

What if these two bells tolled?
They'd make the bark-splintering
Music of pure cold.

Rising

Another attempt at Three Word Wednesday. Words are uneasy, drawn, and crumble (I took the liberty of changing to crumbled.) I wish I could be more consistent, but my heavy work schedule blahblahblah.

Rising

He woke
to the sound of rain
humbly descending
to earth
like an incarnate god.
Not an unqualified
blessing, this quiet falling
is known to add up,
and add up, a violent wash
scouring
the world's crust.

Yet he wakes
in hope; no uneasy
thoughts of trial
by water drawn
from sacred text
or history. Rising
like a blade of grass
from crumbled
soil, he begins
his halting resurrection.

Practice

It's been awhile. For Three Word Wednesday. Prompt words Demand, Navigate, Crinkle.

Practice

There they are again.
Faint thuds, incessant,
demanding attention
like an unlatched
barn door banging
in the winter wind.
Perhaps that’s all it is:
a door ajar;
or a pile-drive
pounding columns
for the overpass
that will (we are promised)
help us navigate
the snarling traffic;
or the boy two streets down,
imagining a game
on the line, dribbling slowly
as he readies for the
final shot.

But I deceive myself.
I know if I travel
forty miles southwest,
past the spoiled Ogeechee
and tangled pines,
I’ll see
mangled earth,
I’ll feel
air crinkle
with concussive
power. Ft. Stewart trains
for death. Soon
they’ll set their sights
on flesh, on foreign
barns and bridges,
just as hopeful as
my neighbor kid that
practice pays off.

Addendum to Previous Post: For A. and M.

"Specimen," as used in this context, probably refers to pee-pee. It could also refer to poo-poo, since this is also a specimen that must be processed. Thus, it is "Pee-pee Processor," or "Poo-poo Processor." I thank you for asking.

New job offer

Ok. We haven't been as busy at work as I need to be, so I've worked on a resume and sent it out to a few places over the last three or so months. Just got an email from CareerBuilders; they were pleased to inform me that, based on my resume, they would like me to consider a career as a Specimen Processor. Thanks for the boost of confidence.