wild melody

(photocred: beks) A thousand miles beyond this sun-steeped wall Somewhere the waves creep cool along the sand, The ebbing tide forsakes the listless land With the old murmur, long and musical; The windy waves mount up and curve and fall, And round the rocks the foam blows up like snow,— Tho' I am inland far, I hear and know, For I was born the sea's eternal thrall. I would that I were there and over me The cold insistence of the tide would roll, Quenching this burning thing men call the soul,— Then with the ebbing I should drift and be Less than the smallest shell along the shoal, Less than the sea-gulls calling to the sea. Sara Teasedale: Sea Longing

Batter my heart, three-person'd God, for you As yet but knock, breathe, shine, and seek to mend; That I may rise and stand, o'erthrow me, and bend Your force to break, blow, burn, and make me new. I, like an usurp'd town to'another due, Labor to'admit you, but oh, to no end; Reason, your viceroy in me, me should defend, But is captiv'd, and proves weak or untrue. Yet dearly'I love you, and would be lov'd fain, But am betroth'd unto your enemy; Divorce me,'untie or break that knot again, Take me to you, imprison me, for I, Except you'enthrall me, never shall be free, Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me. ((Batter My Heart. -John Donne))

it seems this has become a travel blog. i like having a place to stick pictures and quotes from trips. i don't journal very well. blogging helps memories stay clearer in my mind, because i re-live them immediately after. mum likes to read about my trips. (probably because i tell stories like abi's fam--only i'm one person interrupting myself and going off on random threads and not quite finishing the original story. i will never be the storyteller of the family!) my latest trip was a week in key marathon spending most days on the splendid blue sea. this captures my sentiments: I must down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky, And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by, And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white sail's shaking, And a grey mist on the sea's face, and a grey dawn breaking. I must down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied; And all I ask i...

If tolling bell I ask the cause. “A soul has gone to God”, Is answered in a lonesome tone; Is heaven then so sad? That bells should joyful ring to tell A soul had gone to heaven, Would seem to me the proper way Good news should be given. ~Emily Dickinson I'm thinking I agree with this. I have some half-thoughts swirling about my head so I figured I would put them into words. When one is awash in Christ’s all-atoning blood; death becomes a good thing. Why? How can something so hideous be called "good"? " O death, where is your sting? The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is in the law. But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ." (1cor 15) What is death for the believer? It is seeing your Savior face to face. It's not an end--it's a beginning. It's not an accident—it was carefully planned by One who planned every detail of the life before and after. It is reunion with friends who left before. It is the real...

Recenty I've been reading poetry and trying to like it. Mostly it's a failure. But occasionally I find a brilliant one that I enjoy. Here is the first stanza of one by Emily Dickenson. " Through the straight pass of suffering The martyrs stately trod, Thier feet upon tempation, Thier faces upon God . " I'd like to be like that someday.