Make Me an Instrument by Blair Bodine

<iframe width="560" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/eBIt3Mhq0SI" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>

Make Me an Instrument
by Blair Bodine

Make me an Instrument of your peace
Make me the music of a melody
I’ll be the bass, I’ll be the fiddle
3 part harmony, make me the middle

Make me a flute or a clarinet
Make me a tune you haven’t finished yet
I’ll be a harp, made out of golden wire
Save me a spot in the Sunday choir

I’ve  got this voice, I wanna use it
I’ve got one life, I’m gonna set mine to music
And a choice, about how my time is spent
So, Lord, make me an instrument!
Oh, Lord, make me an instrument!

Make me the sound of a violin
Make me a solo on a mandolin
I’ll be the strings in a symphony
Give me a bucket, I can make a beat

I’ve  got this voice, I wanna use it
I’ve got one life, I’m gonna set mine to music
And a choice, about how my time is spent
So, Lord, make me an instrument!
Oh, Lord, make me an instrument!

Let me be the chorus that brings you back around
I can be the silence where you feel all their sound
I wanna be the reason that this song is sung
I wanna keep believin’ when the song is done

So, make me an instrument of your peace
Make me the music of a melody
I’ll be the bass, I’ll be the fiddle
3 part harmony, make me the middle
                oh make me the middle

I’ve  got this voice, I wanna use it
I’ve got one life, I’m gonna set mine to music
And a choice, about how my time is spent
So, Lord, make me an instrument!
Oh, Lord, make me an instrument!

Stepping Stones

This is a post from Sara, a woman who inspires me greatly!!

She writes:

"No moment from my God is a rock of burden. It is just a rock wanting to be broken apart into stepping stones."

http://gitzengirl.blogspot.com/2008/10/stepping-stones.html

Hallelujah by Leonard Cohen

"Hallelujah" by Leonard Cohen
listen here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YrLk4vdY28Q

performed by Rufus Waynwright, Jeff Buckly and
Leonard Cohen—there are several versions

Now I've heard there was a secret chord
That David played, and it pleased the Lord
But you don't really care for music, do you?
It goes like this
The fourth, the fifth
The minor fall, the major lift
The baffled king composing Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Your faith was strong but you needed proof
You saw her bathing on the roof
Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you
She tied you
To a kitchen chair
She broke your throne, and she cut your hair
And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah

*(Leonard Cohen’s version starts here)
Baby I have been here before
I know this room, I've walked this floor
I used to live alone before I knew you.
I've seen your flag on the marble arch
Love is not a victory march
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah

There was a time you let me know
What's really going on below
But now you never show it to me, do you?
And remember when I moved in you
The Holy Dove was moving too
And every breath we drew was Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Maybe there’s a God above
and all I ever learned from love
was how to shoot out someone
who outdrew you

It’s not a cry you can hear at night,
It’s not somebody who’s seen the light
It’s a cold and it’s a broken Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah

(Most versions end above, Leonard Cohen’s version continues below)
You say I took the Name in vain
I don't even know the Name
But if I did, well really, what's it to you?
There's a blaze of light
In every word
It doesn't matter which you heard
The Holy or the broken Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah

I did my best, it wasn't much
I couldn't feel, so I tried to touch
I've told the truth, I didn't come to fool you
And even though
It all went wrong
I'll stand before the Lord of Song
With nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah

Note: 3/5/10
I’ve been obsessed with this song today. The melody completely draws me in. The lyrics are pretty. I believe the original author was Leonard Cohen; however, it’s been covered by a variety of artists and lyrics have been added or manipulated. I can’t say exactly what the original intent was with all of these lyrics. But, it’s beautiful. Clearly there is an allusion to King David, the Psalms, and Samson in the Bible. It conjures up images of a loving, albeit, strained relationship with God, mostly. But there is a carnal feeling to it, too. As I listen, I conjure up images of a sweaty run or bike-ride, a sob in the rain, raw physical affection, or falling down on one’s knees dirty and bloodied from a harrowing experience (e.g. birth, miscarriage, battle, a terrible accident). Sometimes our experience of God is so full and fresh, it’s exhilarating and palpable. And we all have those experiences where our faith wanes and we feel terribly alone. But that is a Holy place too. I think this is about those waning times—those times of longing. We can praise God in both of those places.

Hallelujah is a Hebrew word, meaning, “Praise Yaweh”. It’s primarily used in praise and thanksgiving. The author speaks of the “cold and broken Hallelujah.” I interpret the Cold, Broken Hallelujah as those time when we cry out for God but feel He is a million miles away—when we ache for His presence, but can’t seem to feel it. When we want to yell and scream. When we embrace, tearfully.
I’m curious what you think? Any different interpretations or thoughts? I’d love to hear what others come up with. Love listening to this and the various versions. Feel free to comment, if you like.

The Old Rugged Cross, Historical Links to Sturgeon Bay

These are snippets from a few sites online. Just thought it was interesting, as my friend Bev posted part of the lyrics today.

THE OLD RUGGED CROSS
Bernard was a Methodist evangelist involved in a series of revivals
from Wisconsin to New York State while carrying with him the words of
this poem of the cross. During the travels he worked on the hymn with
friends. It is said to have been completed on December 29, 1912,
while in a revival in Sturgeon Bay, Wisconsin. A well known Gospel
composer helped him touch up the music and harmony while Billy Sunday's
great song leader used it first and made it widely used well known.
The Old Rugged Cross is probably the most beloved of the old hymns of
the 19th century.
http://www.ministrytoday.org/pastors/p-hymns.htm

THE OLD RUGGED CROSS
Most popular Christian hymn, completed by Rev. George Bennard during evangelistic meetings Dec. 29, 1912, to Jan. 12, 1913, at the Friends Church, Sturgeon Bay, Wis. First sung the last day as a quartet in the church parlors and as a duet at the final service that night from penciled words and notes.
http://www.cardcow.com/69212/memorial-to-the-old-rugged-cross-sturgeon-bay-wisconsin-sturgeon-bay/

THE OLD RUGGED CROSS
From Marc De Bruyn (emdebe@village.uunet.be) - September 7, 2003
"The Old Rugged Cross" was composed by Rev. George Bennard (1873-1958), a Methodist minister, in 1913. It was written in Albion, Michigan (where he conducted evangelistic services and operated a music company and tract society), or Pokagon, Michigan (where the hymn was first sung publicly at a revival meeting), or Sturgeon Bay, Wisconsin; all three towns claim to be the birthplace of this hymn, that has become an all-time favorite.

"The Old Rugged Cross" became an instant hit, but it did not make Bennard rich: he sold the rights to the Rodeheaver Company of Winona Lake, Indiana for $500, and the copyright was renewed for about $5,000 years later. Bennard also wrote numerous other gospel songs, but none matched the quality of "The Old Rugged Cross", which has stood the test of time and is one of the most famous hymns ever written.

"On a hill far away stood an old rugged cross, / The emblem of suffering and shame; / And I love that old cross where the dearest and best / For a world of lost sinners was slain / So I'll cherish the old rugged cross, / Till my trophies at last I lay down; / I will cling to the old rugged cross, / And exchange it some day for a crown / O that old rugged cross, so despised by the world, / Has a wondrous attraction for me; / For the dear Lamb of God left His glory above / To bear it to dark Calvary / So I'll cherish the old rugged cross, / Till my trophies at last I lay down; / I will cling to the old rugged cross, / And exchange it some day for a crown / In that old rugged cross, stained with blood so divine, / A wondrous beauty I see, / For 'twas on that old cross Jesus suffered and died, / To pardon and sanctify me / So I'll cherish the old rugged cross, / Till my trophies at last I lay down; / I will cling to the old rugged cross, / And exchange it some day for a crown / To the old rugged cross I will ever be true; / Its shame and reproach gladly bear; / Then He'll call me some day to my home far away, / Where His glory forever I'll share / So I'll cherish the old rugged cross, / Till my trophies at last I lay down; / I will cling to the old rugged cross, / And exchange it some day for a crown"
http://globalia.net/donlope/fz/songs/Old_Rugged_Cross.html

Hammer and a Nail

because sometimes I spend too much time in my head.. ;-)

lyrics by Emily Saliers  of the Indigo Girls

Clearing webs from the hovel
a blistered hand on the handle of a shovel
I've been digging too deep, I always do.
I see my face on the surface
I look a lot like narcissus
A dark abyss of an emptiness
Standing on the edge of a drowning blue.
I look behind my ears for the green
Even my sweat smells clean
Glare off the white hurts my eyes
Gotta get out of bed get a hammer and a nail
Learn how to use my hands, not just my head
I think myself into jail
Now I know a refuge never grows
From a chin in a hand in a thoughtful pose
Gotta tend the earth if you want a rose.
I had a lot of good intentions
Sit around for fifty years and then collect a pension,
Started seeing the road to hell and just where it starts.
But my life is more than a vision
The sweetest part is acting after making a decision
I started seeing the whole as a sum of its parts.
My life is part of the global life
I'd found myself becoming more immobile
When I'd think a little girl in the world can't do anything.
A distant nation my community
A street person my responsibility
If I have a care in the world I have a gift to bring.

The New Colossus, as incribed on the Statue of Liberty in New York Harbor

The New Colossus

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
"Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she
With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

Emma Lazarus, 1883

Strange Fire

Full texts are below the paralells listed:

The Indigo Girls write: mercenaries of the shrine, who are you to speak for god? with haughty eyes and lying tongues and hands that shed innocent blood. who delivered you the power to interpret calvary? you gamble away our freedom to gain your own authority.

From Proverbs 6:
16 There are six things the LORD hates,
seven that are detestable to him:

17 haughty eyes,
a lying tongue,
hands that shed innocent blood,

18 a heart that devises wicked schemes,
feet that are quick to rush into evil,

19 a false witness who pours out lies
and a man who stirs up dissension among brothers.


Lyrics from Strange Fire by The Indigo Girls

strange fire
i come to you with strange fire, i make an offering of love, the incense of my soil is burned by the fire in my blood. i come with a softer answer to the questions that lie in your path. i want to harbor you from the anger, find a refuge from the wrath.

this is a message of love. love that moves from the inside out, love that never grows tired. i come to you with strange fire.

mercenaries of the shrine, who are you to speak for god? with haughty eyes and lying tongues and hands that shed innocent blood. who delivered you the power to interpret calvary? you gamble away our freedom to gain your own authority.

find another state of mind. grab hold. strange fire burns with the motion of love.

when you learn to love yourself, you will dissolve all the stones that are cast, you will learn to burn the icing sky and to melt the waxen mask. yes, to have the gift of true release, this is a peace that will take you higher. i come to you with my offering., i bring you strange fire.

this is a message of love. love that moves from the inside out, love that never grows tired. i come to you with strange fire.

Proverbs 6 (New International Version)

Proverbs 6
Warnings Against Folly
1 My son, if you have put up security for your neighbor,
if you have struck hands in pledge for another,
2 if you have been trapped by what you said,
ensnared by the words of your mouth,

3 then do this, my son, to free yourself,
since you have fallen into your neighbor's hands:
Go and humble yourself;
press your plea with your neighbor!

4 Allow no sleep to your eyes,
no slumber to your eyelids.

5 Free yourself, like a gazelle from the hand of the hunter,
like a bird from the snare of the fowler.

6 Go to the ant, you sluggard;
consider its ways and be wise!

7 It has no commander,
no overseer or ruler,

8 yet it stores its provisions in summer
and gathers its food at harvest.

9 How long will you lie there, you sluggard?
When will you get up from your sleep?

10 A little sleep, a little slumber,
a little folding of the hands to rest-

11 and poverty will come on you like a bandit
and scarcity like an armed man. [a]

12 A scoundrel and villain,
who goes about with a corrupt mouth,

13 who winks with his eye,
signals with his feet
and motions with his fingers,

14 who plots evil with deceit in his heart—
he always stirs up dissension.

15 Therefore disaster will overtake him in an instant;
he will suddenly be destroyed—without remedy.

16 There are six things the LORD hates,
seven that are detestable to him:

17 haughty eyes,
a lying tongue,
hands that shed innocent blood,

18 a heart that devises wicked schemes,
feet that are quick to rush into evil,

19 a false witness who pours out lies
and a man who stirs up dissension among brothers.

This is my Song

This beautiful Hymn was sung for us in church today, July 4, 2010, by Ann and David Harsh and AnnEllen and Ken Boettcher. It’s so beautiful; I had to find out more.

The following are the lyrics listed in our United Methodist Hymnal (#437). Music by Jean Sibelius (1899) and Words adapted by Lloyd Stone(1934). It’s a prayer for peace, here and everywhere.

This is My Song

This is my song, oh God of all the nations,
a song of peace for lands afar and mine.
This is my home, the country where my heart is;
here are my hopes, my dreams, my holy shrine;
but other hearts in other lands are beating
with hopes and dreams as true and high as mine.

My country's skies are bluer than the ocean,
and sunlight beams on clover leaf and pine.
But other lands have sunlight too and clover,
and skies are everywhere as blue as mine.
This is my song, oh God of all the nations;
a song of peace for their land and for mine.

This is my prayer, o Lord of all earth's kingdoms
Thy kingdom come on earth thy will be done.
Let Christ be lifted up till all shall serve him.
And hearts united learn to live as one.
Oh hear my prayer, o God of all the nations.
Myself I give thee; let thy will be done.

So moving are these lyrics. Truly, as we celebrate our own independence, let us pray for freedom and peace everywhere.

Here is a link to an article about the song from Wikipedia:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Finlandia_Hymn

Here is a beautiful rendition of the hymn by The Southwest American Choral Director's Association Collegiate Choir in 2006.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pCjuxePRyCo&feature=related

And here is a link of the hymn being sung by the Indigo Girls with Missy Higgins
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LD1t6tzbp-Y

Faith and Reason

**This poem is inspired out of the contradictions that have run through my life both interally and those lived out in the relationships I've had with friends and teachers. It is also inspired by a couple of influential people and pastors. Reading the book Love Wins by Rob Bell has inspired me to let go of some of the arguments I carry on in my head between factions of myself and my community. Yvette Flunder has given me language to both embrace the complicated text we call Scripture and use it appropriately in today's world. Thanks to them and my church family here and far that help me wrestle, wonder, and still belong.

Faith and Reason
by Teri VanLieshout
7/22/11

Faith and Reason
    two passions
  running forever deep
      in this immutable soul.

God,
  I see you
    in dendrites and DNA
  in evolution
       and the geologist's history.

Reason,
   I see you
  as a gift from Him
     not in contrast to
  but because of.

Faith,
   you are my companion
 in the Secular
    and the Sublime.
  I need you to stand
       on the shoulders of giants
   and in the arms of the Son.

Doubt,
   I know you too:
  "Maybe this is a lie
      I tell myself to feel better."
  But yet I know
    life IS better
        in connection with Him
  lived both ways, I’ve felt it in my heart.

I am
   not enough of a scientist
      for my science friends,
   not enough of a Zealot
      for my Christian friends
 so I am a Holy Misfit
    in this world
       of Either-Or.

I am
  a Both-And girl
 in an Either-Or world
     reaching toward the Infinite
  trusting in reason and thought
     faith and experience
 a Bible in each breath
     of the Natural World.

I trust
   You ARE
  as I am...  HERE
   and we are
      together.

I trust
  LOVE WINS!
 and life evolves
   both literally and figuratively.

I trust You
   in knowing You,
  I don't have to check
     my brain at the door.
  You gave me this brain,
      so I use it.

I don't believe
   You created
 throw-away-life
     it was all meant
   to BE
  and to be
     good.

Unscientists
   break the world
      into the sum of its parts.
Others
     break faith
    into the sum of ONE book
       interpreted by ONE person,
   the Bible-Answer-Man.

Yet I am a Both-And girl
   in an Either-Or world
  and I trust
     it's OK
  this Faith and Reason

I trust
   and doubt
 my belief in
    EVERYTHING
      42
  7,3, or 5
 mystic numbers
      and natural expression
  that go beyond
       finite understanding.

Faith and Reason
   you are my friends
  and I don't know why
     this world insists
  that you can't be friends
      with each other.

To know You
     to understand this world
        and the next
  I lean on  you both
   Faith and Reason

God of science
   science of God
 Reason is incomplete without awe
    as is blind faith
  So I trust
      in You.

God of Love
   Giver of Life
  The Grand Architect
And Cosmic Bowler,

Humans will know
   with certainty
      while You laugh
   in the margins.

Faith
   Scripture
  Experience
       Tradition
  and Reason

You are my companions
  my lens
    in this life
as I stretch toward the next.

Enough

Enough
by Teri VanLieshout
7/21/10

Sitting here
Watching the water touch the sky
Over the bay near the State Park
Wondering
What is ENOUGH

My stress is
And forever has been
Being enough
For him, for her, for you, for God
For those whom I serve

Did I do enough?
Well enough?
Could it be better?
If so how?
And what’s next, to be done better?

And I no longer believe in Perfect
That false idol
I’ve left long ago
But somehow, I still chase it’s shadow,
Enough

What is ENOUGH?
And how does one let go
Of trying
Only to let inadequacy
Creep in through the cracks

In this 36^th year
I see in a new way
The need to let go
And let God
And be free of chasing perfection

Breath
Shared breath
With Him
With my loved ones
Sharing this life together

Reaching toward each other
In our perfect imperfection
A symphony
Of sound and messy life
Played with passion

That is beauty at its best

God makes art from our errors
And teaches as we stumble
Breathing beauty into despair and grief
Shaping fresh growth out of tragedy
And indeed, it’s enough

So paint fully
With all colors, deep and rich
And don’t let the worry of a misplaced stroke
Ruin the painting
It all gets used

Easier said than practiced
But still attainable
Rhythm, balance
Breath shared
Perfect imperfection

Enough

Pendulum Swinger by the Indigo Girls

"Pendulum Swinger"
by the Indigo Girls
Lyrics by Emily Saliers

I meet you for coffee
We get together periodically
I got a bad case I can't shake off of me
The fevered walking round wondering how it ought to be
You work in the system
You see possibilities and your glistening
Eyes show the hell you're gonna give 'em
When they back off the mic for once and give it to a woman

I dream like a mad one
Brutal fantasies I catch as catch can
I'm a psychic and a laywoman
I see love and I like to make it happen
What we get from your war walk
Ticker of the nation breaking down like a bad clock
I want the pendulum to swing again
So that all your mighty mandate was just spitting in the wind

It doesn't come by the bullwhip
It's not persuaded with your hands on your hips
Not the company of gunslingers
The epicenter love is the pendulum swinger
She is she is she is

It's fine about the old scroll Sanskrit
Gnostic gospels the da vinci code a smash hit
Aren't we dying just to read it and relate
Too hard just to go by a blind faith
But they left out the sisters
Praying to a father god so long I really missed her
The goddess of benevolence
You should listen to your mama if you have a lick of sense left

Pushed under by the main press, buried under a code of dress
Relegated by the Vatican
But you can't keep a spirit down that wants to get up again

If we're a drop in the bucket
With just enough science to keep from saying fuck it
Until the last drop of sun burns its sweet light
Plenty revolutions left until we get this thing right

Listen on YouTube by clicking on the link below:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oqPPdj6WqyQ

God Hears

College as a whole was an uncomfortable struggle for me. I didn't have a home or a family close by, which I now know, feeds me. I wasn't grounded. I went through periods of rebellion (or complete stupidity). And then I came back to a place of faith, but was scared and overwhelmed with how far I had wandered. I was 23, a young 23. So here's my simple cry out in the dark from way back then. I met my husband about 3 months later. And it all worked out. Adolescent angst. :-)

God Hears
12/18/97
by Teri VanLieshout

When I was a young girl, feeling sad and afraid
I went to my church and I knelt down and prayed

I prayed for an answer to fall from above
The sky to tear open and pour out God's love

I wanted a voice, a hand on my shoulder
But all that I felt was the room getting colder

      It's easy to think that God doesn't hear
      When we ask and expect things like magic,
      But if we look back again at our life taking course
      We see our prayers being answered

Frustrated, empty, lost and alone
I left the church thinking I'd wasted my time

God doesn't hear me, I said to myself
He's got more important prayers on his shelf

So I went down the street for some coffee to drink
Sat down at a table alone to think

      It's easy to think that God doesn't hear
      When we ask and expect things like magic,
      But if we look back again at our life taking course
      We see our prayers being answered

At the table I sat and thumbed through some books
Nothing looked interesting, nothing quite took

And then a tap on my shoulder, as if from above
The man one seat over started talking to me

About hometowns, and majors, and jobs and the like
Finding one's path and direction in life

      It's easy to think that God doesn't hear
      When we ask and expect things like magic,
      But if we look back again at our life taking course
      We see our prayers being answered

He offered his thoughts and shared his frustrations
There were no clear answers or new revelations

But I left feeling heard and much less afraid
As if God really heard me when I knelt down and prayed

Life is a struggle, yet one thing is clear
God knows our thoughts and really does hear

      It's easy to think that God doesn't hear
      When we ask and expect things like magic,
      But if we look back again at our life taking course
      We see our prayers being answered

Imperfect Perfection

The poem, "Imperfect Perfection" is what I've made of the problem of pain in the past. A couple of years ago a former student of mine, Elisabeth G., died in a car wreck. Very sad. She was young, just starting college--a sweet spirit with her whole life ahead of her.  A few weeks later, a learned that another Elisabeth died--this one the daughter of my friend Nadine. This Elisabeth was 40 years old, with two young daughters.  She died suddenly from a rare surgical complication (a blood clot went to her heart).  This is the kind of pain I struggle with spiritually. I struggle when people say, "Everything happens for a reason." I struggle when people claim that God plans such things. I, personally, believe God cries with us during such tragedies. This is a place I came to back then. My perspective may change with time. I will have to pray more about it.

Imperfect Perfection
By Teri VanLieshout
4/6/2005-- revised slightly 7/9/2011

For the two Elizabeths...

Two young lives
   gone
So much to live for
   one 19, one 40,
        with a husband
            and two children

Where is the silver lining
  around that dark cloud
     of grief and loss

"Everything happens for a reason."
   Really??
      You KNOW this??
           Why??

I don't believe it
    or
   It's beyond me to understand

I have faith that there is
    healing and peace
       in the love of God
          in the love of friends.

But why such tragedies happen
   is beyond me.

Maybe God
   doesn't interfere
       in our lives
           at all.

Maybe we're
   truly and completely
      left alone
         to the powers of this world.

Or maybe
  God is in healing
     in friendship
       in kindness
          in hope.

Maybe God is in the things
   that grow out of loss.

God is Perfection
  in Imperfection.
     Perfection
        in an imperfect
          and cruel world.

Imperfect Perfection II

Imperfect Perfection II

by Teri VanLieshout

11/22/10

Joy fills this imperfect soul

As I see imperfection, the grout

That fills the cracks

Between tiles of perfect grace

Letting go

of fear

of needing to know

of having to get it right

I am whole

though imperfect

And life is good

even when it’s not

I am free

and I am loved

in earthly ways

and by my Creator

I am joyful

for all the beauty

that surrounds

the deepest dark

And life tumbles forth

With imperfect perfection

Renewing, uplifting

Staggering and falling

Tied together

With perfect grace

Holding Fast

Holding Fast
7/6/11
by Teri VanLieshout

I hold fast to    love, life, beauty
  I want to fold it up
Write it down
  Carry it with me

Like an old photograph
  with shining memories
  Of happy times
Stuffed in the corner of my
   mirror or wallet or  purse

I breathe you in
  and breathe you out
Memory and love
I feel you burst open
  inside

I cannot hold you
  you will not sit still
You run out and over
  spilling forward

 You are rich and warm
   Sunset explosion
 Here and gone
 
I marinade in
 your fragrance
   your touch
     your joy

And I remember
 and hold fast
   and smile.

The Swan

"The Swan" by Rainer Maria Rilke; translation by Joanna Macy and Anita Barrows

 

This laboring of ours

with all that remains undone,

 as if still bound to it,

 is like the lumbering gait of the swan.

 

And then our dying—releasing ourselves

from the very ground on which we stood—

 is like the way he hesitantly

 lowers himself into the water.

 

 It gently receives him, and, gladly yielding,

flows back beneath him, as wave follows wave,

 while he, now wholly serene and sure,

with regal composure, allows himself to glide.

Let this Darkness be a Bell Tower

"Let This Darkness Be a Bell Tower" by Rainer Maria Rilke; translation by Joanna Macy and Anita Barrows

 

Quiet friend who has come so far,

feel how your breathing makes more space around you.

Let this darkness be a bell tower

and you the bell. As you ring,

 

 

what batters you becomes your strength.

Move back and forth into the change.

What is it like, such intensity of pain?

If the drink is bitter, turn yourself to wine.

 

 

In this uncontainable night,

be the mystery at the crossroads of your senses,

the meaning discovered there.

 

 

And if the world has ceased to hear you,

say to the silent earth: I flow.

To the rushing water, speak: I am.

 

http://being.publicradio.org/programs/2010/wild-love-for-world/

Sister Outsider by Audre Lorde

It is necessary to teach by living and speaking those truths which we believe and know beyond understanding.  Because in this way alone we can survive, by taking part in a process of life that is creative and continuing, that is growth.

And it is never without fear—of visibility, of the harsh light of scrutiny and perhaps judgment, of pain, of death.  But we have lived through all of those already in silence, except death.  And I remind myself all the time now that if I were to have been born mute, or had maintained an oath of silence my whole life long for safety, I would still have suffered, and I would still die. It is very good for establishing perspective.

And where the words of women are crying to be heard, we must each of us recognize our responsibility to seek those words out, to read them and share them and examine them in their pertinence to our lives.  That we not hide behind the mockeries of separations that have been imposed upon us and which so often we accept as our own.

We have been socialized to respect fear more than our own needs for language and definition, and while we wait in silence for that final luxury of fearlessness, the weight of that silence will choke us.

The fact that we are here and that I speak these words is an attempt to break that silence and bridge some of those differences between us, for it is not difference which immobilizes us, but silence.  And there are so many silences to be broken.

Lorde, Audre. (1984). Sister Outsider.  (p. 43-44). Berkley, CA: The Crossing Press.

Fragile Ties

Fragile Ties

By Teri VanL.ieshout

2/14/2005

For my husband, Josh, with love

Spider’s web
And silken thread
Soft and fragile
They can break with a whisper
Or in woven strength
Hold like girders of steel.

Our hearts are bound
In the magical thread
Of trust, hope, honesty
Patience, forgiveness,
Laughter, resilient warmth
And compassion.

Love

In the cocoon of marriage
Is our shelter
Our strength
And our foremost labor.

To tend to these fragile ties
That can break in isolation
Or, in union,
Bear the insurmountable weight of the world,

To tend to these fragile ties
Is a foundation
For a rich life
Shared with each other,
Our children,
And our children’s children,

Building a legacy
That can span generations
Made first of intimate love,
Blossoming into creative service
That can go far beyond
Our individual lives
To benefit the world.

I give you my affection
My respect, my support,

My love

The best of me

To share in this tender union
That is our life together
And is a reflection of the Eternal
So gently placed
In the silken framework
Of our hearts.

I wrote this for Josh a few years ago. And back then, I didn’t know how much we’d face together even in 5 short years. As we grow in our marriage, I can say the love grows stronger and the respect grows deeper. My husband loves well, even when I’m far from perfect. And I hope I reflect that back to him, too. Truly blessed. I love you so much, Josh. You’re the best!!

Neonatology by Elizabeth Alexander

Giving birth is like jazz, something from silence,
then all of it. Long, elegant boats,
blood-boiling sunshine, human cargo,
a handmade kite —

                                 Postpartum.
No longer a celebrity, pregnant lady, expectant.
It has happened; you are here,
each dram you drain a step away
from flushed and floating, lush and curled.
Now you are the pink one, the movie star.
It has happened. You are here,

and you sing, mewl, holler, peep,
swallow the light and bubble it back,
shine, contain multitudes, gleam. You

are the new one, the movie star,
and birth is like jazz,
from silence and blood, silence
then everything,

jazz.

by Elizabeth Alexander, from her latest book
"Crave Radiance" page 143 (excerpt from 153)

Fecund Offering (a revision)

By Teri VanLieshout
original 3/5/97, this version 1/25/11

Love is not
       like magnified

It is showing appreciation
     for life
       through commitment
    to others
           and shared vision of what is good

Experiencing joy
   comes with
     sharing
         life’s good work
                                        together

Hard work
   strengthens calm

Peace comes
  in the wake
     of a steady push forward
 
Comfort
   is satisfaction
     in knowing you’ve done your best

Souls are kept
   by passing love on,
     sharing in the triumphs and pitfalls of life

      fecund offering

Go to the Limits of your Longing by Ranier Maria Rilke, translated by Joanna Macy and Anita Barrows

God speaks to each of us as he makes us,
 then walks with us silently out of the night.These are the words we dimly hear:
You, sent out beyond your recall
go to the limits of your longing.
Embody me.
Flare up like a flame
and make big shadows I can move in.
Let everything happen to you:
 beauty and terror. Just keep going.
No feeling is final.
Don't let yourself lose me. Nearby is the country they call life.
You will know it by its seriousness.
Give me your hand.Book of Hours, I 59

Praise Song for the Day by Elizabeth Alexander

"Praise Song for the Day"
by Elizabeth Alexander 
Each day we go about our business,
walking past each other, catching each other's
eyes or not, about to speak or speaking.

 All about us is noise. All about us is
noise and bramble, thorn and din, each
one of our ancestors on our tongues.

 Someone is stitching up a hem, darning
a hole in a uniform, patching a tire,
repairing the things in need of repair.

 Someone is trying to make music somewhere,
with a pair of wooden spoons on an oil drum,
with cello, boom box, harmonica, voice.

 A woman and her son wait for the bus.
A farmer considers the changing sky.
A teacher says, Take out your pencils. Begin.

 We encounter each other in words, words
spiny or smooth, whispered or declaimed,
words to consider, reconsider.

 We cross dirt roads and highways that mark
the will of some one and then others, who said
I need to see what's on the other side.

 I know there's something better down the road.
We need to find a place where we are safe.
We walk into that which we cannot yet see.

 Say it plain: that many have died for this day.
Sing the names of the dead who brought us here,
who laid the train tracks, raised the bridges,

 picked the cotton and the lettuce, built
brick by brick the glittering edifices
they would then keep clean and work inside of.

 Praise song for struggle, praise song for the day.
Praise song for every hand-lettered sign,
the figuring-it-out at kitchen tables.

 Some live by love thy neighbor as thyself,
others by first do no harm or take no more
than you need. What if the mightiest word is love?

 Love beyond marital, filial, national,
Love that casts a widening pool of light,
love with no need to pre-empt grievance.

 In today's sharp sparkle, this winter air,
any thing can be made, any sentence begun.
On the brink, on the brim, on the cusp,

praise song for walking forward in that light.

Kitchenette Building by Gwendolyn Brooks

"Kitchenette Building"
by Gwendolyn Brooks

 We are things of dry hours and the involuntary plan,
Grayed in, and gray. "Dream" makes a giddy sound, not strong
Like "rent," "feeding a wife," "satisfying a man."

 But could a dream send up through onion fumes
Its white and violet, fight with fried potatoes
And yesterday's garbage ripening in the hall,
Flutter, or sing an aria down these rooms

 Even if we were willing to let it in,
Had time to warm it, keep it very clean,
Anticipate a message, let it begin?

 We wonder. But not well! not for a minute!
Since Number Five is out of the bathroom now,
We think of lukewarm water, hope to get in it.

Time

Time
by Teri VanLieshout
5/24/11

Time
A river I chase
Running alongside
With bare feet
And painted toes

I wade in shallow pools
Catching treasures in jars
To save
And set free
  Later

And I stand on the bank
Where the rapids run
Wanting to jump
Suspended in the mist
  Catching you with both hands

Meandering river
Rushing river
Your course, your aim
Through my fingers and painted toes
Never standing still

Five Minute Poem

5 minute poem
By Teri VanLieshout
3/3/10

walls half painted
lists of things-to-do
on half-sheets of paper
everywhere

eggs on the counter
dish-filled-sink
dirty egg beaters
baby rocking on her chair

nursing baby,
fussy baby
"momma up,"
hanging on my leg

bible study --  genesis
bad girls need their reading too
plus the lenten reader
oh my, bible sure is getting used

news is on
big girl dancing
laundry waiting
on the bed

more to do,
so little time
so much to do
my aching head

(the life of a mom--
written in about 5 minutes, between tasks,)

Sisters in Spirit

by Teri VanLieshout
February 2005

My sisters
Generation to generation
Across time and distance
Sing to my spirit,
Giving my soul a place to be nourished and grow.

With gratitude I wake
To see the new light of each day.
Starting in solitude
And going to a place
Of community and family.

You are my touchstones.
In each turn of life
that brings my spirit to yours,
I learn more about
what it means to be
a woman,
a daughter,
a mother,
a wife,
a friend,
a teacher,
a citizen of this world.

In our sisterhood,
We are the life-blood of this planet,
Bringing wisdom and love,
Hope and joy,
Laughter,
Dignity in sorrow and grief,
Bravery,
Leadership,
Strength,
Courage,
And compassion,

To the places of our own,
Our families,
Our communities,
And the quietest part of ourselves,
Which is the interface between this world
And the next.

It is in our friendships
And the cherished places where we meet each other
That we feed the purest part of ourselves,
That becomes the woman
Who meets the word.

It is with gratitude
That I greet the dawn of each day,
And give thanks for
My sisters in spirit,
Who brighten my life.

Hi from Teri

Hi.  I am Teri, and I like to write poetry. It's not all good. It's not all bad. It may not be high art, but it gives me joy. Read or comment if you like. It is my space to play.