September I'll remember

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D e c o m p o s i n g   C o m p o s u r e

Decrepit Barn

Lexington, South Carolina

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April, come she will
When streams are ripe and swelled with rain
May, she will stay
Resting in my arms again

June, she'll change her tune
In restless walks she'll prowl the night
July, she will fly
And give no warning to her flight
 

August, die she must
The autumn winds blow chilly and cold
September, I'll remember
A love once new has now grown old

= Paul Simon =

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Happy Tuesday

So despised by the world

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C r u x

Pleasant Forest Cemetery

Knoxville, Tennessee

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On a hill far away stood an old rugged cross

The emblem of suff'ring and shame

And I love that old cross, where the dearest and best

For a world of lost sinners was slain.

Oh that old rugged cross so despised by the world

Has a wondrous attraction for me

For the dear Lamb of God left His glory above

To bear it to dark Calvary.

In that old rugged cross stained with blood so divine

A wondrous beauty I see

For 'twas on that old cross Jesus suffered and died

To pardon and sanctify me.

To the old rugged cross I will ever be true

Its shame and reproach gladly bear

Then he'll call me someday to my home far away

Where his glory forever I'll share.

So I'll cherish the old rugged cross

Till my trophies at last I lay down

I will cling to the old rugged cross

And exchange it someday for a crown.

= George Bennard =

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For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again,

even so them also which sleep in Jesus

will God bring with him.

I Thessalonians 4:14

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Happy Sunday :: Happy Easter

Participating in their stillness

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S n a p   G r a c k l e   P o p

Folly Beach

Charleston, South Carolina

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There is a moment after you move your eye away
when you forget where you are
because you’ve been living, it seems,
somewhere else, in the silence of the night sky.

You’ve stopped being here in the world.
You’re in a different place,
a place where human life has no meaning.

You’re not a creature in a body.
You exist as the stars exist,
participating in their stillness, their immensity.

Then you’re in the world again.
At night, on a cold hill,
taking the telescope apart.

You realize afterward
not that the image is false
but the relation is false.

You see again how far away
each thing is from every other thing.

= Louise Glück =

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Happy Friday

The stones are crooned to sleep

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S o m e t i m e s   I   S i t s   A n d   T h i n k s

Kensico Cemetery

Valhalla, New York

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Again the woods are odorous, the lark
Lifts on upsoaring wings the heaven gray
That hung above the tree-tops, veiled and dark,
Where branches bare disclosed the empty day.

After long rainy afternoons an hour
Comes with its shafts of golden light and flings
Them at the windows in a radiant shower,
And rain drops beat the panes like timorous wings.

Then all is still. The stones are crooned to sleep
By the soft sound of rain that slowly dies;
And cradled in the branches, hidden deep
In each bright bud, a slumbering silence lies.

= Rainer Maria Rilke =

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Happy Thursday

When I stood forlorn

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F a c e   I t

Oakwood Cemetery

Raleigh, North Carolina

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Surprised by joy -- impatient as the Wind
I turned to share the transport -- Oh! with whom
But Thee, long buried in the silent Tomb,
That spot which no vicissitude can find?
Love, faithful love, recalled thee to my mind --
But how could I forget thee? -- Through what power,
Even for the least division of an hour,
Have I been so beguiled as to be blind
To my most grievous loss! -- That thought’s return
Was the worst pang that sorrow ever bore,
Save one, one only, when I stood forlorn,
Knowing my heart’s best treasure was no more;
That neither present time, nor years unborn
Could to my sight that heavenly face restore.

= William Wordsworth =

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Happy Tuesday