Gone past forever

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S t e p   R i g h t   U p

Decatur Cemetery

Decatur, Georgia

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How calmly does the olive branch
Observe the sky, begin to blanch
Without a cry, without a prayer
With no betrayal of despair

Some time while light obscures the tree
The zenith of its life will be
Gone past forever, and from thence
A second history will commence

A chronicle no longer gold
A bargaining with mist and mold
And finally the broken stem
The plummeting to earth, and then

An intercourse not well designed
For beings of a golden kind
Whose native green must arch above
The earth’s obscene corrupting love

And still the ripe fruit and the branch
Observe the sky, begin to blanch
Without a cry, without a prayer
With no betrayal of despair

Oh courage! Could you not as well
Select a second place to dwell
Not only in that golden tree
But in the frightened heart of me.

= Tennessee Williams =

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Happy Thursday

The best lack all conviction

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S p l i s h   S p l a s h

SunTrust Park

Atlanta, Georgia

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Turning and turning in the widening gyre

The falcon cannot hear the falconer;

Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;

Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,

The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere

The ceremony of innocence is drowned;

The best lack all conviction, while the worst

Are full of passionate intensity.

Surely some revelation is at hand;

Surely the Second Coming is at hand.

The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out

When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi

Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert

A shape with lion body and the head of a man,

A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,

Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it

Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.

The darkness drops again; but now I know

That twenty centuries of stony sleep

Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,

And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,

Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

= William Butler Yeats =

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Happy Wednesday

I cannot sound the bell

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W e   S p e a k   P u r p l e

Back Yard

Columbia, South Carolina

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The world’s
not wanton
only wild and wavering

I wanted to choose words that even you
would have to be changed by

Take the word
of my pulse, loving and ordinary
Send out your signals, hoist
your dark scribbled flags
but take
my hand

All wars are useless to the dead

My hands are knotted in the rope
and I cannot sound the bell
My hands are frozen to the switch
and I cannot throw it
The foot is in the wheel

When all is over and we’re lying
in a stubble of blistered flowers
eyes gaping, mouths staring
dusted with crushed arterial blues
barred with tiger-lily reds

I’ll have done nothing
even for you

= Adrienne Rich =

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Happy Tuesday

Let me be fell

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A l l   M e a n s   A l l

Bonaventure Cemetery

Savannah, Georgia

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No worst, there is none. Pitched past pitch of grief,
More pangs will, schooled at forepangs, wilder wring.
Comforter, where, where is your comforting?
Mary, mother of us, where is your relief?
My cries heave, herds-long; huddle in a main, a chief
Woe, wórld-sorrow; on an áge-old anvil wince and sing --
Then lull, then leave off. Fury had shrieked 'No ling-
ering! Let me be fell: force I must be brief."'

O the mind, mind has mountains; cliffs of fall
Frightful, sheer, no-man-fathomed. Hold them cheap
May who ne'er hung there. Nor does long our small
Durance deal with that steep or deep. Here! creep,
Wretch, under a comfort serves in a whirlwind: all
Life death does end and each day dies with sleep.

= Gerard Manley Hopkins =

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Happy Monday :: Happy Memorial Day

After silver turns to ashes

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P l e a s e   G o d

Laurel Grove Cemetery

Savannah, Georgia

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When the brightest star of earth has faded away

When the most desired of treasures has long been decayed

When the tallest of our mountains no longer will stand

The Son will still be shining in glory land

The Son will still be shining, shining so bright

No stormy clouds can gather, no shadows of night

After silver turns to ashes and gold turns to sand

The Son will still be shining in glory land

When the water from sin’s fountain no longer is sweet

I’ll partake of milk and honey sitting at the Savior’s feet

When earth’s castles will have crumbled that once stood so grand

The Son will still be shining in glory land

Yes, the Son will still be shining, shining so bright

No stormy clouds can gather, no shadows of night

After silver turns to ashes and gold turns to sand

The Son will still be shining in glory land

After silver turns to ashes and gold turns to sand

The Son will still be shining in glory land

= Squire Parsons, Jr. =

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And I saw no temple therein:

for the Lord God Almighty and the Lamb are the temple of it.

 And the city had no need of the sun, neither of the moon, to shine in it:

for the glory of God did lighten it, and the Lamb is the light thereof.

And the nations of them which are saved shall walk in the light of it:

and the kings of the earth do bring their glory and honour into it.

And the gates of it shall not be shut at all by day:

for there shall be no night there.

Revelation 21:22-25

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Happy Sunday