How they beckon me to come

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A r m   O f   T h e   A n g e l

Magnolia Cemetery

Augusta, Georgia

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When my lifework is ended and I cross the swelling tide
When the bright and glorious morning I shall see
I shall know my Redeemer when I reach the other side
And His smile will be the first to welcome me.

I shall know Him, I shall know Him
And redeemed by His side I shall stand
I shall know Him, I shall know Him
By the print of the nails in His hand.

Oh the soul-thrilling rapture when I view His blessed face

And the luster of His kindly beaming eye

How my full heart will praise Him for the mercy, love and grace

That prepared for me a mansion in the sky.

Oh the dear ones in glory, how they beckon me to come

And our parting at the river I recall

To the sweet vales of Eden they will sing my welcome home

But I long to meet my Savior first of all.

Thro' the gates to the city in a robe of spotless white

He will lead me where no tears will ever fall

In the glad song of ages I shall mingle with delight

But I long to meet my Savior first of all.

I shall know Him, I shall know Him
And redeemed by His side I shall stand
I shall know Him, I shall know Him
By the print of the nails in His hand.

= Fanny J. Crosby =

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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 tinder in the sun

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H a n g i n g   i n   T h e r e

Old Sheldon Church Ruins

Yemassee, South Carolina

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The Love a Life can show Below

Is but a filament, I know,

Of that diviner thing

That faints upon the face of Noon --

And smites the Tinder in the Sun --

And hinders Gabriel's Wing --

'Tis this -- in Music -- hints and sways --

And far abroad on Summer days --

Distils uncertain pain --

'Tis this enamors in the East --

And tints the Transit in the West

With harrowing Iodine --

'Tis this -- invites -- appalls -- endows --

Flits -- glimmers -- proves -- dissolves --

Returns -- suggests -- convicts -- enchants --

Then -- flings in Paradise --

= Emily Dickinson =

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Happy Saturday :: Happy Spring

Their image in the mind

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T h i r s t y   T r e e s

Crown Fountain

Chicago, Illinois

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And roofs of villages, on woodland crests

And their aerial neighborhoods of nests

Deserted, on the curtained window-panes

Of rooms where children sleep, on country lanes

And harvest-fields, its mystic splendor rests!

Gone are the birds that were our summer guests,

With the last sheaves return the laboring wains!

All things are symbols: the external shows

Of Nature have their image in the mind,

As flowers and fruits and falling of the leaves;

The song-birds leave us at the summer's close,

Only the empty nests are left behind,

And pipings of the quail among the sheaves.

= Henry Wadsworth Longfellow =

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Happy Friday

The emptiness of peace

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A l l   T h a t   I   S u r v e y

Allegheny Cemetery

Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania

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You must rock your pain in your arms

until it's asleep, then leave it

in a darkened room

and tiptoe out.

For a moment you will feel

the emptiness of peace.

But in the next room

your pain is already stirring.

Soon it will be

calling your name.

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Happy Thursday

Islands of dark matter

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Y o u   B l u e   I t

Ravenswood Bridge

Ravenswood, West Virginia

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I wake myself imagining the shape
of the day and where I will find

myself within it. Language is not often
in that shape,

but sentences survive somehow
through the islands of dark matter,

the negative space often more important
than the positive.

Imagine finding you look at the world
completely different upon waking one day.

You do not know if this is permanent.
Anything can change, after all,

for how else would you find yourself
in this predicament or this opportunity,

depending on the frame? A single thought
can make loneliness seem frighteningly new.

We destroy the paths of rivers to make room for the sea.

= Adam Clay =

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Happy Wednesday