It beckons and it baffles

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O n   A   M i s s i o n

Folly Beach

Charleston, South Carolina

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This World is not Conclusion.

A Species stands beyond --

Invisible, as Music --

But positive, as Sound --

It beckons, and it baffles --

Philosophy -- don't know --

And through a Riddle, at the last --

Sagacity, must go --

To guess it, puzzles scholars --

To gain it, Men have borne

Contempt of Generations

And Crucifixion, shown --

Faith slips -- and laughs, and rallies --

Blushes, if any see --

Plucks at a twig of Evidence --

And asks a Vane, the way --

Much Gesture, from the Pulpit --

Strong Hallelujahs roll --

Narcotics cannot still the Tooth

That nibbles at the Soul --

= Emily Dickinson =

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Happy Saturday

The reign of jewels rare

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R e p l a c e m e n t   W i n d o w s

Abandoned Structure

Leesville, South Carolina

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Thy brow is girt, thy robe with gems inwove;

And palaces of frost-work, on the eye,

Flash out, and gleam in every gorgeous dye,

The pencil, dipped in glorious things above,

Can bring to earth. Oh, thou art passing fair!

But cold and cheerless as the heart of death,

Without one warm, free pulse, one softening breath,

One soothing whisper for the ear of Care.

Fortune too has her Winter. In the Spring,

We watch the bud of promise; and the flower

Looks out upon us at the Summer hour;

And Autumn days the blessed harvest bring;

Then comes the reign of jewels rare, and gold,

When brows flash light, but hearts grow strangely cold.

= Emily Chubbuck (Mrs. Adoniram) Judson a/k/a Fanny Forester =

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Happy Friday

Against the drip of night

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A   W o r d   I n   E d g e w i s e

Circular Church Graveyard

Charleston, South Carolina

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God banish from your house

The fly, the roach, the mouse

That riots in the walls
Until the plaster falls;

Admonish from your door
The hypocrite and liar;

No shy, soft, tigrish fear
Permit upon your stair,

Nor agents of your doubt.
God drive them whistling out.

Let nothing touched with evil,
Let nothing that can shrivel

Heart's tenderest frond, intrude
Upon your still, deep blood.

Against the drip of night
God keep all windows tight,

Protect your mirrors from
Surprise, delirium,

Admit no trailing wind
Into your shuttered mind

To plume the lake of sleep
With dreams. If you must weep

God give you tears, but leave
You secrecy to grieve,

And islands for your pride,
And love to nest in your side.

= Stanley Kunitz =

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Happy Thursday

Warm my wasted heart

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F i r e   a n d   N i c e

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If seasons all were summers,
And leaves would never fall,
And hopping casement-comers
Were foodless not at all,
And fragile folk might be here
That white winds bid depart;
Then one I used to see here
Would warm my wasted heart!

One frail, who, bravely tilling
Long hours in gripping gusts,
Was mastered by their chilling,
And now his ploughshare rusts.
So savage winter catches
The breath of limber things,
And what I love he snatches,
And what I love not, brings.

= Thomas Hardy =

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Happy Wednesday

And you are welcome, welcome

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W i s t f u l   W i s p s

Circular Church Graveyard

Charleston, South Carolina

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Come when the nights are bright with stars

Or when the moon is mellow;

Come when the sun his golden bars

Drops on the hay-field yellow.

Come in the twilight soft and gray,

Come in the night or come in the day,

Come, O love, whene'er you may,

And you are welcome, welcome.

You are sweet, O Love, dear Love,

You are soft as the nesting dove.

Come to my heart and bring it rest

As the bird flies home to its welcome nest.

Come when my heart is full of grief

Or when my heart is merry;

Come with the falling of the leaf

Or with the redd'ning cherry.

Come when the year's first blossom blows,

Come when the summer gleams and glows,

Come with the winter's drifting snows,

And you are welcome, welcome.

= Paul Laurence Dunbar =

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Happy Tuesday