Poem: October Dawn

October 25, 2016

A chill in the air and the earth, still warm from the long summer, exhales –

steam coming up from the dirt, pavement, and fields

forms a blanket of fog along the ground,

spilling into the roadways and wrapping itself around the trees.

As the sun begins to rise, the trees grasp at the earthen clouds,

trying to snuggle in to their beds  for a little longer before having to rise up themselves

with the morning.

Awake!  It’s an October dawn!

Time to shake off the slumber and crawl out of bed.

The air nips at your ears and nose and the fog slowly escapes the grip of the branches –

the branches which are also in movement

from green to burning red and the varying colors within.

The invisible Someone in the sky blows the trees as if they were giant dandelion puffs –

the leaves tremble for a moment and some release,

tumbling to the earth.

 – Sarah ><>

Poem: Cold Winter 8

8
January 24th, 2014

How did they know? Those farmers…
How did they know of the frigid and bluster
Of this year’s winter?
The proof is in the pudding
And the pudding is cold as stone
And hard as ice.
Cold.
Doesn’t even seem the right word for this feeling.
And the perpetual snow drifts across the roads,
Like snakes of white powder
Side-swiping between the tires and biting at them,
Turning them to ice in an instant.
And the cats eyes of taillights
Glaring behind as if angry of the cold as well.
I’m tired of it too, but my car is warm,
Mostly, and I’m willing to go around in it.
But don’t ask me to get out and brave the frozen wasteland.
My only consolation remains that
The days do grow longer,
And soon will come the crocuses.

 – Sarah ><>

Poem: Cold Winter 7

7
January 22nd, 2012

The ice came and took its victims.
Freezing and snapping and catching,
Holding us hostage until it so pleased.
But the sun came and rescued us.
And in response, the ice melted,
Exhaling a mist into the sky –
At night, obscuring the sights
And refracting the lights so they scatter
And blend and flood as much as the water.
Red and white and yellow and green,
Bright and obtrusive,
Tainting the scene.
But the lake is near untouched
With the haze rising above
And weaving its way through the waterlogged trees.
They never drown.
And the train awakens and the white lights
Between the cars like buck teeth
Flash and pulse and faster and faster
And gone.

 – Sarah ><>

Review: Poem – Spring Expects Growth

I don’t usually review my own poetry, but I feel like this one needs some commentary so that in 100 years when people are finally reading my stuff, they are not coming to wrong conclusions of what my intentions were.  What’s the point of writing poetry if everyone’s going to come up with their own ideas of why it was written?  Here’s the poem to help jog your memory.

May 29, 2011

Spring expects growth,
new life and an increase.
While Winter ran rampant across the earth,
we expect God to work in the soil,
in the trunks of the trees,
in the hearts of men.
Spring brings disappointment when the Winter is over
and nothing has changed.
The garden is empty,
The trees have no leaves
and the heart is unsteady.
No blame is afforded to God –
only to the stubbornness of the soil.
It is my fault that I am the same.

Sarah ><>

—–

I wrote this poem in Spring and it wasn’t meant to convey any spiritual Truth, only to illustrate a truth in my own heart.  I’ve been doing a study with some ladies at church and this week, while we were discussing feeling frustrated and disappointed with the stage of faith that we are in, I remembered this poem.  It seems to encapsulate all my feelings of waiting and the season God has for me.  I feel frustrated that my times of waiting are so much longer than I think they should be.  I feel disappointed that I don’t seem to be making the progress “required” to move on from my time of waiting to actively serving God.

But as I thought of the poem and the thoughts that are speaking out of it, a big, glaring “LIE” was stamped across it.  This is a lie that has taken root in my heart and is permeating through my faith that A + B = C.  In faith, it is not always the case.  Faith + Time does not = certain growth.  Growth in faith is not contingent, is not comparable to the amount of time spent in waiting.  It is a lie to think that God expects you to be at a certain stage or level of faith at the end of a time of teaching or testing. (I’m saying this a couple different ways because I know we all think and process things differently.)  Those expectations are man-made and Satan-fed.

How many of us have been told by our parents, “You’re xx old now, you ought to be…?”  My life has been filled with “ought to’s.”  We have come up with a word in our Bible Study that I think expresses what God’s expectations are for his children – “verbing.”  Verbing represents the act of pursuing God or working on whatever He has for you.  Whether that task is growing your patience, practicing faith, trusting Him more, serving Him and others – the -ing signifies that the verb is continually taking place.  You are either verbing, or you are not.  What verbing does not explain is the speed or strength at which it is happening.  For example, a child may be running to greet his dad at the front door.  An Olympic runner may be sprinting a world record.  Both of them are running, but the pace is completely different. 

God is not concerned about the pace at which we are following Him.  He only wants us to follow Him.  Verbing.

You might be wondering how I can say this – as a person with the gift of prophecy, I will take you to Scripture.  Noah, preparing for the flood, took years to complete the Ark.  God did not tell him he had so much time to finish the Ark, not until 7 days before the floods were going to come and, at this point, the Ark was completed.  He had only to gather the animals onto the Ark and then God sealed it up Himself.  Verbing – Noah was verbing what God commanded.  God was not concerned about the amount of time it took, so long as Noah was faithful.

Elijah is another example.  I love the story of Elijah challenging the prophets of baal and wooping their butts – literally, they were all massacred after the victory.  And the rains came, and Jezebel sought his life so he ran and ran.  And God came to him and asked him what he was doing.  Elijah said “I have been very jealous for You, Yahweh, that Israel would worship You.”  And then God told him to go out of the cave he was hiding in.  There was a strong wind that tore apart trees and then an earthquake and then a fire, but God wasn’t in any of these things.  He was in the whisper, and the whisper asked Elijah again what he was doing.  When Elijah repeats his plan, God tells him that who Elijah is to anoint as king, who is to be prophet after him and that there are 7,000 others in Israel who have not bowed down to baal.  Elijah’s faith reached a point where it was verbing at a very slow pace, but it was still there.  He was still seeking to glorify God and God didn’t discredit him because he had just done this great thing in faith and “ought to” know better.  God still had plans for Elijah.

My final example is Jonah.  Jonah is a whole basket case of verbing and non-verbing.  He ran from God’s initial call.  Then when he finally obeyed God, he went up on a mountain to wait for God’s wrath to pour on the people of Nineveh.  And when it didn’t, he non-verbed.  He began to despair of his life.  The book of Jonah ends with God chastising him for thinking a little tree that Jonah didn’t make grow is more important than a whole city filled with innocent children who could not even tell their left hand from their right hand.  Jonah was not verbing and THAT was what God took issue with.  He was no longer trying to understand God, to know Him and to let His Word abide in his heart.  God had just caused a fish to swallow him and to spit him up after 3 days, and yet Jonah did not get the message.  God’s compassion was on the people in that great city who were finally verbing after such a long and terrible life.

I may not be verbing strong enough in some people’s opinions, but I’m verbing to God and all He’s concerned about is that.  Not with how hard, how fast, how much – just that I’m doing it.  And that’s what this life on earth is for – to be verbing towards God.  One day, when His children reach heaven, we will no longer need to be verbing – we will just verb.  And we won’t be verbing towards God, we will verb with God.  How I long for that day.

Poem: Spring Expects Growth

May 29, 2011

Spring expects growth,

new life and an increase.

While Winter ran rampant across the earth,

we expect God to work in the soil,

in the trunks of the trees,

in the hearts of men.

Spring brings disappointment when the Winter is over

and nothing has changed.

The garden is empty,

The trees have no leaves

and the heart is unsteady.

No blame is afforded to God –

only to the stubbornness of the soil.

It is my fault that I am the same.

Sarah ><>

I reviewed this poem.  Check it out here.

Poem: The Moon-Cloud

September 24, 2010

The moon,

Like a rice wafer in the sky,

So light it seems almost like a cloud

To be blown away by a sigh.

Round, defined, translucent,

Like a dream just after waking –

Fading into the pale blue sky of morning –

Soon to be forgotten

With the dawning of the day.

Sarah ><>

Poem: Green

March 26, 2010

I catch glimpses of green from beneath

the rough casings of brown.

Green, showing its affinity

for the bright blue of the sky above

and the already verdant ground below

blanketed by warm and delicious yellow light.

The snow from the early morning

has already melted away

and gone to feed the aching thirst

of those green, green, green,

velvet to the touch, newborns

peeking out and teasing my eyes and heart

with a hope of what’s coming.

Life from death –

is the great mystery of my mind today –

how regardless of circumstance

there is a bubbling inside of me

urging itself to uncover from within,

shedding its winter-case

and entreating all to join in the wonder.

Death no more to hold them in its grasp –

an echo of a greater Truth

and, aah!

My heart is at peace and energy.

Sarah ><>

Poem: Emerging

October 29th, 2009

On the tip of my brain
Sits a poem only half-formed.

It has been on the verge of being written
But lacks a common thread or substance.
Inspiration…

The change of the seasons are a muse
As is Prokofiev, green tea, and daffodils.
When peering out into nature
To watch God’s amazing workmanship
Words drip into the sky
And peek out from behind the trees.

These fleeting moments of clarity
Are so difficult to grasp,
But their memory leaves a taste in my mind
And can’t help but make me thirst for the Something Greater.

Like the dark shadows shining down from the clouds
Between the bright rays of the sun.
Or the resonance of a string on my violin
With the tamborine atop the piano.

The sound rushes through the air and finds a kindred voice
And the two shake with joy at their meeting,
Lifting my heart with them
And laughter bursting forth.

Observing the absurd and giggling
Deeply until I must gasp for air.

God, the beautiful painter,
Who made the colors to complement each other.
He put red flowers on stalks of green;
Purple and yellow wildflowers
Scatter themselves and dance along the highway,

Crowned with caps of white.
Trees containing one hundred shades of orange, gold,
And vibrant, burning embers of scarlet
Against a vastness of blue
And a trunk of black.

Each leaf, then, holds a secret;
Each flower petal an answer,

And my eyes flit over them oft unaware
Of such a great mystery.
Oh, grant me the liberty to write such a verse
That would do justice to these trappings
Beating out of my heart.

A calling, a whisper,
A rampant longing for the glorious.

Sarah ><>

Poem: Start of Autumn

September 22nd, 2008

Sometimes change comes suddenly and sometimes it

Takes its time to come through.

As leaves turn from their green hew to

Reds, yellows, and browns,

Trees resound the coming change of the year.

Oft filled with as many sweet aromas as Spring,

Fall has a subtle beauty to it.

And we praise the Maker and Artist, Who

Understands our need of change, even

Though we may not wish it at times.

Unworthy are we of the gift He gives us,

Mystery, nature, and a season of respite.

Now we welcome Him with open arms.

Sarah ><>

Poem: Cold Winter 6

6
February 17th, 2007

The dark engulfs me and the trees surrounding.
The moon is bright behind the branches
Causing the limbs to look other-worldly
Refracting through the ice encased around them.
Oh I’m warm in my little car,
But cold is lurking outside,
Wishing to take me aside and introduce me
To this Martian foliage of glass and light.
But I know if we become acquainted
It would spell certain death to me.
Yes, to know these beasts, to be intimate!
I can’t even imagine.
Such a look of wonder presides on my face
As I stare out the window at the trees.
Can they be real? Or,
Maybe they are in my mind,
With their vibrant illumination.
Hmm, I cannot tell.
They must be real, but I’m sure they would
Break if I stare much longer.

 – Sarah ><>