05 October 2007

A Harvest Home

I don't have much to say these days.

But it's not because nothing is happening. Quite the opposite is true. I just don't feel much like writing and having made the rounds in the blogging world, it seems that I am not the only one. As the days grow both shorter and wetter, as leaves forfeit the vibrant greens of summer for fiery shades of orange and yellow, I find myself drawing more inward. Being quiet. Taking it all in. Listening.

God is busy, but He's very quiet as He goes about His work.

Sometimes for my morning meditation, I'll turn to an anthology of Christian poetry I have. I turned to this poem this morning and as autumn is upon us, wanted to share what I'm thinking on today.


The Pastor Praises the Creator David Citino

Dearly beloved, I mean today
to praise the God who gave the tribes
wine, the crisp flesh of suckling pig,
then told them "Thou must not."

Who gave them swords and ploughshares,
lambs and lions, demons and redeemers.
Who made half of them like pestles,
half like mortars, then told them

in themselves they were complete.
Cool soothing fingers and fevers
between the legs. Reason and gooseflesh,
curtains and candles, lightning and oak,

seven days to live and as many sins,
lungs and mold, books and blind men, veins
and age. Who fashioned them a harvest home,
then created wanderlust and roads.

4 comments:

  1. Thank you for sharing this poem, Kirsten. The quiet speaks to me, and I speak to it. I am content with this. It's good to find kinship in this quiet place with other pilgrims, and I am glad you are one I can name among that set.

    This line, in particular, spoke to me: "Who made half of them like pestles / half like mortars, then told them / in themselves they were complete."

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  2. Thanks for visiting, Christianne. The quiet speaks to me too, and in a way that actual words do not and I think, cannot.

    This poem spoke to me today because I think I have been longing for Home lately. God has given us many good things on this earth that we are meant to enjoy (within appropriate boundaries, of course), but ultimately they do not satisfy us. He has "fashioned [us] a harvest home, / then created wanderlust and roads."

    I love that. He put in us a desire for Home, and a way to get there should we choose to travel it.

    I hope & pray your space of quiet is a blessing to you, my fellow wayfarer.

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  3. Its funny, because I use blogging to distract myself from work - probably not the best use of my time ;)

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