That bids our sorrows cease

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D i g i t a l   P r a y i n g

Mount Hope Cemetery

Florence, South Carolina

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O for a thousand tongues to sing

My great Redeemer's praise

The glories of my God and King

The triumphs of His grace.

My gracious Master and my God

Assist me to proclaim

To spread thro' all the earth abroad

The honors of Thy Name.

Jesus! The Name that charms our fears

That bids our sorrows cease

'Tis music in the sinner's ears

'Tis life and health and peace.

He breaks the pow'r of cancelled sin

He sets the captive free

His blood can make the foulest clean

His blood availed for me.

He speaks, and list'ning to His voice

New life the dead receive

The mournful broken hearts rejoice

The humble poor believe.

Hear him, ye deaf, His praise, ye dumb

Your loosened tongues employ

Ye blind, behold your Savior come

And leap, ye lame, for joy.

= Charles Wesley =

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And I beheld, and I heard the voice of many angels

round about the throne and the beasts and the elders:

and the number of them was ten thousand

times ten thousand, and thousands of thousands;

Saying with a loud voice, Worthy is the Lamb

that was slain to receive power, and riches, and wisdom,

and strength, and honour, and glory, and blessing.

Revelation 5:11-12

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Happy Sunday

Some change is too great

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K e e p   L o o k i n g   U p

Aimwell Cemetery

Ridgeway, South Carolina

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Dusk fell every night. Things

fall. Why should I

have been surprised.

Before it was possible

to imagine my life
without it, the winds

arrived, shattering air
and pulling the tree
so far back its roots,

ninety years, ripped
and sprung. I think
as it fell it became

unknowable. Every day
of my life now I cannot
understand. The force

of dual winds lifting
ninety years of stillness
as if it were nothing,

as if it hadn’t held every
crow and fog, emptying
night from its branches. 

The needles fell. The pinecones
dropped every hour
on my porch, a constant

irritation. It is enough
that we crave objects,
that we are always

looking for a way
out of pain. What is beyond
task and future sits right

before us, endlessly
worthy. I have planted
a linden, with its delicate

clean angles, on a plot
one tenth the size. Some change
is too great. 

Somewhere there is a field,
white and quiet, where a tree
like this one stands,

made entirely of
hovering. Nothing will
hold me up like that again.

= Joanna Klink =

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Happy Friday

Nothing has changed

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F a l c o n

Bowling Green State University

Bowling Green, Ohio

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I sit in the top of the wood, my eyes closed.
Inaction, no falsifying dream
Between my hooked head and hooked feet:
Or in sleep rehearse perfect kills and eat.

The convenience of the high trees!
The air's buoyancy and the sun's ray
Are of advantage to me;
And the earth's face upward for my inspection.

My feet are locked upon the rough bark.
It took the whole of Creation
To produce my foot, my each feather:
Now I hold Creation in my foot

Or fly up, and revolve it all slowly --
I kill where I please because it is all mine.
There is no sophistry in my body:
My manners are tearing off heads --

The allotment of death.
For the one path of my flight is direct
Through the bones of the living.
No arguments assert my right:

The sun is behind me.
Nothing has changed since I began.
My eye has permitted no change.
I am going to keep things like this.

= Ted Hughes =

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Happy Thursday

Beyond the last thought

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C o n t e m p l a t i o n   S t a t i o n

Bonaventure Cemetery

Savannah, Georgia

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The palm at the end of the mind,
Beyond the last thought, rises
In the bronze decor,

A gold-feathered bird
Sings in the palm, without human meaning,
Without human feeling, a foreign song.

You know then that it is not the reason
That makes us happy or unhappy.
The bird sings. Its feathers shine.

The palm stands on the edge of space.
The wind moves slowly in the branches.
The bird’s fire-fangled feathers dangle down.

= Wallace Stevens =

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Happy Wednesday

We break fast

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S h a r d   K n o c k s

Abandoned Shack

Batesburg-Leesville, South Carolina

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Trying to live and love

With a heart that can't be broken

Is like trying to see the light

With eyes that can't be opened

Yeah, we both carry baggage

We picked up on our way

So if you love me, do it gently

And I will do the same

We may shine

We may shatter

We may be picking up the pieces here on after

We are fragile

We are human

We are shaped by the light we let through us

We break fast

'Cause we are glass

I'll let you look inside me

Through the stains and through the cracks

And in the darkness of this moment

You see the good and bad

But try not to judge me

'Cause we've walked down different paths

But it brought us here together

So I won't take that back

We might be oil and water

This could be a big mistake

We might burn like gasoline and fire

It's a chance we'll have to take

We may shine

We may shatter

We may be picking up the pieces here on after

We are fragile

We are human

We are shaped by the light we let through us

We break fast

'Cause we are glass

= Ross Copperman/Jon Nite =

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Ring the bells that still can ring

Forget your perfect offering

There is a crack in everything

That's how the light gets in

= Leonard Cohen =

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Happy Tuesday