When my soul is in the dumps, I rehearse
everything I know of you,
From Jordan depths to Hermon heights,
including Mount Mizar.
Chaos calls to chaos,
to the tune of whitewater rapids.
Your breaking surf, your thundering breakers
crash and crush me.
everything I know of you,
From Jordan depths to Hermon heights,
including Mount Mizar.
Chaos calls to chaos,
to the tune of whitewater rapids.
Your breaking surf, your thundering breakers
crash and crush me.
Then God promises to love me all day,
sing songs all through the night!
My life is God’s prayer.
Psalms and poems,
April showers and May flowers
That is what Spring is made of.
The poetic language of the Psalms express my heart, as my joy ebbs and flows with the sunshine and clouds of Spring. To celebrate and contemplate this season of joy, my heart is drawn to poetry and to flowers. Poetry is celebrated this month, so I thought I'd join the festivities by posting some poem/prayers of my own, some from others and some from God's word.
Flowers are the iconic representation of Spring, and with my new access to varieties unlimited through the Missouri Botanical Gardens, I will have photos to share. Last week, I went with my sister and the nieces and nephews. We were able to enjoy the superb display of orchids.
I plan to highlight guest poems on Thursdays, so if you have a poem you'd like me to post or link up here, please send me an e-mail with your poem or link at kelrohlf@gmail.com
Without further ado, here are some flowers and a poem.
cloudless blue (Kel Rohlf)
cloudless blue raked by bare branches
redbud blossoms soften the viewwarmth of spring swishes past
with just a hint of winter chill
man made droning behind the scene
breaks in upon this dreamechoing a great stream rushing
behind the woodland screen
senses drop to the underbrush
greening, growing unseen lifelush
underneath the winter gloom
Love the version of Ps 42:6-8. Thanks. And your own declares the beauty and hope of spring.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Lolita! The Message captures the grittiness of the Psalms... I love it! It always amazes me how Spring gently and then sometimes abrubtly bursts into the winter landscape...when I see the yellow forsythia blooming, I know Spring is definitely on its way :)
DeleteI love the gentling voice of your poem here, the soothing of the "greening, growing unseen life lush underneath the winter gloom." Thank you for this blessing.
ReplyDeleteSylvia, Thank you for stopping by...I remember the day I wrote this poem, I was at a local sculpture park with my young sons, we were budding artists, sketching the sculptures... and I had a moment to sit on a bench to observe the woods...I was lamenting the lack of Spring in the bleak winter landscape, then my eyes fell on the greening undergrowth...it was a beautiful metaphor for my spiritual state at the time...I felt gray inside, but God was quietly greening me from the within...I couldn't quite see it...until I looked deeper :)
DeleteLovely, Kel. What a joy to experience the marriage of poetry and pictures at your blog. My mother read poetry to me during my early years, but it wasn't until a very difficult time in my life that I started writing poetry. My pores simply exuded it. I needed a way to unburden my soul. In retrospect, I think that poetry is healing because it's such a condensed form of writing that it allows us to express overwhelming grief or trouble in a small container that we can more easily face. And when one concentrates on the sound of language in all its beauty of eloquence, alliteration, assoncance, etc., the very rhythm of it sweeps us up and allows cathartic release. When my father died years later, I, who was a prolific journal writer, couldn't write in my journal. I had--pages and pages--during his long illness, imploring God to help and to heal him........but when he died, my words ran dry. But ten days after his passing, at a journaling retreat, I stayed behind in my room, and memories of him surfaced that I was able to pen in a poem. Again, because of the economic use of words in a poem, I didn't have to go too deep, and this writing this poem about Daddy at this painful juncture in my life was one of the most healing things I have ever done. I love what you are doing here.....inviting people to express their inmost souls poetically, like contemporary psalmists. And, yes, the psalmists expressed all ranges of emotions. From what I have said, I hardly mean to impply that poetry must always express pain. How often I use this literary vehicle to express joy and beauty, or just to paint a picture about life. Anyway, good for you! I will enjoy reading what others contribute, and I'd love to offer a poem too.
ReplyDeleteBless you Kel for all you share here. And we too are blessed.
Love
Lynni
Lynni- I love how God wove poetry through your life...the gift from your mother...the expression of grief over saying the sad and difficult goodbye to your father on this side of heaven...and the healing power of poems...so true...he gives us words to lament and words to rejoice...
DeleteI would love for you to contribute a poem or two :) I am thinking of posting guest poems more than once a week if I get a good response...and if you have a poet friend who might like to post let me know :)
Love and blessings-Kel
THanks for the invitation, and I can certainly mention it!
Delete