Deep within my heart like fear

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G r i e f   a n d   L o v e   C o n t e m p l a t e d

Elmwood Cemetery

Charlotte, North Carolina

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Roses can wound,
But not from having thorns they do most harm;
Often the night gives, starry-sheen or moon'd,
Deep in the soul alarm.
And it hath been deep within my heart like fear,
Girl, when you are near.
The mist of sense,
Wherein the soul goes shielded, can divide,
And she must cringe and be ashamed, and wince,
Not in appearance hide
Of rose or girl from the blazing mastery
Of bared Eternity.

= Lascelles Abercrombie =

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Happy Thursday

Full of sweet days

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A n d r e w   T o o

Columbia, South Carolina

Summer 2014

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Sweet day, so cool, so calm, so bright,

The bridal of the earth and sky;

The dew shall weep thy fall tonight,

For thou must die.

Sweet rose, whose hue, angry and brave,

Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye;

Thy root is ever in its grave,

And thou must die.

Sweet spring, full of sweet days and roses,

A box where sweets compacted lie;

My music shows ye have your closes,

And all must die.

Only a sweet and virtuous soul,

Like seasoned timber, never gives;

But though the whole world turn to coal,

Then chiefly lives.

= George Herbert =

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Happy Wednesday

Then the letting go

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F o r   Y o u r   C o n s i d e r a t i o n

Glenwood Cemetery

Tupelo, Mississippi

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After great pain, a formal feeling comes --

The Nerves sit ceremonious, like Tombs --

The stiff Heart questions was it He, that bore,

And Yesterday, or Centuries before?

The Feet, mechanical, go round --

Of Ground, or Air, or Ought --

A Wooden way

Regardless grown,

A Quartz contentment, like a stone --

This is the Hour of Lead --

Remembered, if outlived,

As Freezing persons, recollect the Snow --

First -- Chill -- then Stupor -- then the letting go -- 

= Emily Dickinson =

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Happy Tuesday

A light that cannot fade

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W a t c h i n g

Elmwood Cemetery

Columbia, South Carolina

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The pure, the bright, the beautiful that stirred our hearts in youth

The whisper of a wordless prayer, the streams of love and truth

A longing after something lost, the spirit's yearning cry

Striving after better hopes: These things can never die.

There will always be a shining sun

There will always be the rising of the sea

There will always be an angel watching over me

There will always be an angel watching over me.

A timid hand stretched forth to aid a brother in his need

A kindly word in grief's dark hour, that proves a friend indeed

So shall a light that cannot fade, beam on thee from on high

And angel voices say to thee: These things can never die.

There will always be a shining sun

There will always be the rising of the sea

There will always be an angel watching over me.

There will always be a shining sun

There will always be the ocean's rise and fall

There will always be an angel watching over all.

= John Frederick Lenz =

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Happy Monday :: Happy Week

Neither right nor wrong

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K n o w   W h e n   T o   F o l d   ' E m

Magnolia Cemetery

Charleston, South Carolina

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How all is one way wrought!

How all things suit and sit!

Then ah! the tune that thought

Trod to that fancied it.

Nor angel insight can

Learn how the heart is hence:

Since all the make of man --

Is law's indifference.

Who built these walls made known

The music of his mind

Yet here he has but shewn

His ruder-rounded rind.

Not free in this because

His powers seemd free to play:

He swept what scope he was

To sweep and must obey.

Though down his being's bent

Like air he changed in choice,

That was an instrument

Which overvaulted voice.

Therefore this masterhood

This piece of perfect song,

This fault-not-found-with-good,

Is neither right nor wrong.

No more than red and blue,

No more than Re and Mi,

Or sweet the golden glue

That's built for by the bee.

What makes the man and what

The man within that makes:

Ask whom he serves or not

Serves and what side he takes.

For good grows wild and wide,

Has shades, is nowhere none;

But right must seek a side

And choose for chieftain one.

= Gerard Manley Hopkins =

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Happy Friday