In crossculture. Peoplewatching. Community in the two-thirds world and other places. About questions too: "Higher up and further in!" with an outreach twist? How?

Posts tagged “POEMS

VORACIOUS FOR…

IMG_9327VORACIOUS FOR…

-a poem by NinadesusOjos

Food.

that nourishes my body and my mind,

green and raw and crisp and orange,

no greasy, sweet, soft, white, starch, flour,

thirst-quenching springwater,

apples, oatmeal, quinua, squash and lettuce.

Books.

reading to learn,

reading to be stung to think,

reading to laugh,

reading to relax and fly away.

God.

to know Him more,

to enjoy Him more deeply,

to worship Him more fervently,

to study His Word,

to delight myself in my beloved position with Him.

People.

marveling at their quirks and mine,

smiling at a ten-year-old’s clumsy joke,

listening to their hearts,

mourning with them in their grief,

dancing hand-in-hand in their triumphs,

sharing my Lovely and Loving God with them.

Advertisements

A love line to God this morning..

img_2769God,

I wish

my pen

were the tongue

of a skilful

orator

to applaud

Your

truth,

humility,

righteousness.


Short Poem by Charles Kingsley

Be earnest, earnest, earnest –

MAD, if thou wilt;

Do what thou dost as if the

stake were Heaven,

And that thy last deed

Before the Judgment Day.

copyright La Nina de Sus Ojos by NinadesusOjos, 2012 -2017.IMG_4712Any and all unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material, including all photographs, without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited by law.


God’s Grandeur, A Poem

IMG_0037I love the city of a million and a half people that I live in. I know it well by now, and I like to explore it on foot.  One of the things I appreciate about living here is the way everybody walks places, every day.  I love the people part of things. Every now and then I feel sad because the growth of my city seems to be coming at the expense of , in some neighborhoods at least, most every blade of green grass, every night moth or jumping toad or highland snake, every irridescent, multi-colored butterfly and songbird. I still get to enjoy nature in the city, since many parts of it have abundant flowering shrubs and trees and the mountains have eucalyptus woods all through them.

I liked the earthy green jungles of southern Cameroun, where I was raised, where wildlife and flora were abundant. I liked the misty, soft growing farmland of western Pennsylvania and eastern Ohio, U.S.A.  And, oh the PETS our parents let us have in Africa!  I remember Dad helping my brother and sister and me build a large wooden warming box with a real light bulb in the roof to  help us keep alive seven rare wild jungle woods ducklings we’d bought from a hunter who had shot the mother and was going door to door to the foreigners, trying to make some money.  Those wild ducklings were gorgeous with their soft brown and yellow markings,tawny eiderdown babyfuzz, and delicate-veined webbed feet.

When I think of Gerard Manley Hopkin’s poem, “God’s Grandeur”, I revel in the way he manages to describe some of the sensory beauty and interest God gives each of us, wherever we are in the world, and I also think of the variety God allows us to enjoy in PERSONS, each person beautiful and (perhaps) intriguing, in her or his own way. I think of the “people” aspect of the variety God gives us in relation to the fact that so many of us are called by God to be working with PEOPLE. All these varieties of people, full of their idiosyncrasies, are all a part of God’s grandeur, also.  How privileged we are, by God Himself, to be allowed to work with people! If we feel like we’re lacking love, and interest, in people (or in a particular group of people, or a person!) we can ask God to change that, in us.

In my quiet time with God each morning, I feel that the Holy Spirit often encourages me in this area, through various thoughts and readings.

I share two of them with you this morning.

1.  Habakuk 3:18 – “I will take joy.”

2.  A poem, “God’s Grandeur” by Gerard Manley Hopkins:

God’s Grandeur  by Gerard Manley Hopkins

The world is charged with the grandeur of God.

It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;

It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil

Crushed.  Why do men then now not reck his rod?

Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;

And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;

And wears man’s smudge and shares man’s smell; the soil

Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.

And for all this, nature is never spent;

There lives the dearest freshness, deep down things;

And though the last lights off the black West went

Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs-

Because the Holy Ghost over the bent

World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.


“For Our Children” by Amy Carmichael

“For Our Children” by Amy Carmichael
Father, hear us, we are praying,
Hear the words our hearts are saying;
We are praying for our children.

Keep them from the powers of evil,
From the secret, hidden peril;
Father, hear us for our children.

From the whirlpool that would suck them,
From the treacherous quicksand, pluck them;
Father, hear us for our children.

From the worldling’s hollow gladness,
From the sting of faithless sadness,
Father, Father, keep our children.

Through life’s troubles waters steer them;
Through life’s bitter battle cheer them;
Father, Father, be Thou near them.

Read the language of our longing,
Read the wordless pleadings thronging,
Holy Father, for our children.

And wherever they may bide,
Lead them Home at eventide.2Girls


Ah Studio! by Dom Julian OSB upon reading the Oxford chapters of “A Severe Mercy” by Sheldon Vanauken

Ah Studio!  We’ll meet again.

It won’t be gaslight in the lane,

But just as gentle, only brighter.

And Jack on Aslan’s back.

We’ll sing His glory

Around those two:  One Love-truth.

Old world will give one final “crack!

Our hearts  could not be lighter.

  copyright La Nina de Sus Ojos by NinadesusOjos, 2012 -2017 Any and all unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material, including all photographs, without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited by law.IMG_5657


The Way is Perfect – an old poem by Amy Carmichael

copyright La Nina de Sus Ojos by NinadesusOjos, 2012 -2013. Any and all unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material, including all photographs, without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited by law.

 

Long is the way, and very steep the slope,

Strengthen me once again, O God of Hope.

Far, very far, the summit doth appear;

But Thou art near my God, but Thou art near.

And Thou wilt give me with my daily food,

Powers of endurance, courage, fortitude.

The way is perfect;  only let that way

Be clear before my feet from day to day.

Thou art my Portion, saith my soul to Thee,

O what a Portion is my God to me. (Amy Carmichael)

Psalm 16:5-6  “Lord, you have assigned me my portion and my cup;  you have made my lot secure.  The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; surely I have a delightful inheritance.”IMG_4322


Pied Beauty by Gerard Manley Hopkins

img_4686Glory be to God for dappled things –

For skies of couple-color as a brinded cow;

For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim;

Fresh-firecoal chestnut falls, finches wings;

Landscape plotted and pieced – fold, fallow, and plow;

And áll trádes, their gear and tackle and trim.

All things counter, original, spare, strange;

Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?)

With swift, slow, sweet, sour;  adazzle, dim;

He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change:

Praise him.


Cala Lilies, or Watching Winter Olympics 2014 from South America!

IMG_2022IMG_5413-a poem by NinadesusOjos

Grace in my South American garden,

icy little dancers,

girls in  yellow dresses

twirling fast and straight

in center of furling rinks,

each one

a yellow candle taper

on a snowy wax

doily

edged with green.


Neighbors

copyright La Nina de Sus Ojos by NinadesusOjos, 2012 -2013. Any and all unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material, including all photographs, without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited by law.

NEIGHBORS

My neighbors live at the edge

of the River Rocha

open canal

chemical waste, raw sewage.

Their homes pop up, proliferate

like toadstools after rain,

disappear again,

houses of ripped sheet plastic, sticks, garbage.

When we visit with donations

one man with long white hair,

dark sunburned wrinkles,

asks, “soymilk instead?”

Four more are young

wild wiry glue-sniffers,

dusty, tousled hair,

angry, jumpy eyes.

One keeps three sheep in the riverbed,

hobbled, corraled with clinging driftwood.

Traffic whines within yards, oblivious,

every few weeks police knock down,

set afire my neighbors’ homes,

they scout the city garbage bins

for present food and future building materials,

they want squatters’ rights

to this land nobody else wants

and nobody else wants them to own,

they stake claim

in the pestilential air

on the burned, polluted flood silts

dotted with spindling shrubs,

their lives as tentative and embattled

as the gnarled and stunted willows

barely growing

in the Rocha riverbed.

©The Runaway Loved One, by NinadesusOjos, 2012 -2013. Any and all unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material, including all photographs, without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited by law.