By and by

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R e a c h

Southland Memorial Gardens

West Columbia, South Carolina

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Face to face with Christ my Savior

Face to face, what will it be

When with rapture I behold Him

Jesus Christ Who died for me.

Face to face I shall behold Him

Far beyond the starry sky

Face to face in all His glory

I shall see Him by and by.

Only faintly now I see Him

With the darkened veil between

But a blessed day is coming

When His glory shall be seen.

What rejoicing in His presence

When are banished grief and pain

Death is swallowed up in vict'ry

And the dark things shall be plain.

Face to face, O blissful moment

Face to face to see and know

Face to face with my Redeemer

Jesus Christ Who loved me so.

Face to face I shall behold Him

Far beyond the starry sky

Face to face in all His glory

I shall see Him by and by.

= Carrie E. Breck =

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For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face:

now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.

I Corinthians 13:12

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Happy Sunday

The hurt is not enough

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 W a t c h   Y o u r   S t e p

Riverside Cemetery

Asheville, North Carolina

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Love at the lips was touch
As sweet as I could bear;
And once that seemed too much;
I lived on air

That crossed me from sweet things,
The flow of -- was it musk
From hidden grapevine springs
Downhill at dusk?

I had the swirl and ache
From sprays of honeysuckle
That when they’re gathered shake
Dew on the knuckle.

I craved strong sweets, but those
Seemed strong when I was young;
The petal of the rose
It was that stung.

Now no joy but lacks salt,
That is not dashed with pain
And weariness and fault;
I crave the stain

Of tears, the aftermark
Of almost too much love,
The sweet of bitter bark
And burning clove.

When stiff and sore and scarred
I take away my hand
From leaning on it hard
In grass and sand,

The hurt is not enough:
I long for weight and strength
To feel the earth as rough
To all my length.

= Robert Frost =

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Happy Saturday

We have friends and no butlers

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S h a r d   K n o c k   L i f e

Roadside Detritus

Batesburg, South Carolina

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Come, let us pity those who are better off than we are.
Come, my friend, and remember
that the rich have butlers and no friends,
And we have friends and no butlers.
Come, let us pity the married and the unmarried.

Dawn enters with little feet
And I am near my desire.
Nor has life in it aught better
Than this hour of clear coolness,
the hour of waking together.

= Ezra Pound =

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Happy Friday

And hasn't any home

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D r o p   I t

Finlay Park

Columbia, South Carolina

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 The Butterfly upon the Sky,

That doesn't know its Name

And hasn't any tax to pay

And hasn't any Home

Is just as high as you and I,

And higher, I believe,

So soar away and never sigh

And that's the way to grieve --

= Emily Dickinson =

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Happy Thursday

Lovely in limbs

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F r a g r a n c e d

In the Studio

Columbia, South Carolina

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As kingfishers catch fire, dragonflies draw flame;
As tumbled over rim in roundy wells
Stones ring; like each tucked string tells, each hung bell's
Bow swung finds tongue to fling out broad its name;
Each mortal thing does one thing and the same:
Deals out that being indoors each one dwells;
Selves -- goes itself; myself it speaks and spells,
Crying Whát I dó is me: for that I came.

I say móre: the just man justices;
Keeps grace: thát keeps all his goings graces;
Acts in God's eye what in God's eye he is --
Chríst -- for Christ plays in ten thousand places,
Lovely in limbs, and lovely in eyes not his
To the Father through the features of men's faces.

= Gerard Manley Hopkins =

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Happy Wednesday