Bells are the Voice

For Dappled Things

Today, Dear Lord, Today

Painting: Winslow Homer

The Weaving

'My life is but a weaving
between my Lord and me.
I cannot choose the colors;
He worketh steadily.

Oft times He weaveth sorrow
and I, in foolish pride,
forget He sees the upper,
and I the underside.

Not til the loom is silent
and the shuttles cease to fly,
shall God unroll the canvas
and explain the reason why.

The dark threads are as needful,
in the Weaver's skillful hand,
as the threads of gold and silver
in the pattern He has planned.'

Benjamin Malachi Franklin

One Could Do Worse

'When I see birches bend to left and right

Across the lines of straighter darker trees,

I like to think some boy's been swinging them....

'I'd like to go by climbing a birch tree, 

And climb black branches up a snow-white trunk

Toward heaven, till the tree could bear no more, 

But dipped its top and set me down again.

That would be good both going and coming back.

'One could do worse than be a swinger of birches.'

Robert Frost, from 'Birches'

Painting: Winslow Homer. The Birch Swing ,1864

Upon My Lips A Song

                      'Because the road was steep and long
                      and through a dark and lonely land,
                      God set upon my lips a song
                      and put a lantern in my hand.'

                      From 'Love's Lantern' by Joyce Kilmer

                                    Painting: Julius von Klever, Reisigsammler 1911, with digital alteration

But I Shall Call it Conversion

     'Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
     and sorry I could not travel both 
     and be one traveler, long I stood,
     and looked down one as far as I could
     to where it bent in the undergrowth;

     Then took the other, as just as fair,
     and having perhaps the better claim,
     because it was grassy and wanted wear,
     though as for that the passing there
     had worn them really about the same.

     And both that morning equally lay
     in leaves no step had trodden black.
     Oh, I kept the first for another day!
     Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
     I doubted if I should ever come back.

     I shall be telling this with a sigh
     somewhere ages and ages hence:
     Two roads diverged in a wood, and I - 
     I took the one less traveled by,
     and that has made all the difference.'

     The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost

     (...but as for my own life, I shall just call it 'Conversion')


        Painting: Henry Ward Ranger, Autumn Woodlands

For Distant Bells that Tumble on the Wind

'For songbird answering song on topmost bough;
for myriad lark that carol up the sky;
for that low fluttering on the summer night;
for distant bells that tumble on the wind;
for great ground organ notes that rise and fall,
entwined with earthly voices tuned to heaven,
and bear our hearts above the high-arched roof.
For Thy great voice that dominates the whole,
and shakes the heavens, and silences the earth...
We thank Thee, Lord!'

(from Fervorinos from the Lips of the Master, compiled by a Religious, Pelligrini, Australia, 1940, pp. 431-432)



Painting: Walter Moras

The Very Air

'This is the earth He walked on;
The air we breathe, He breathed - the very air
that took the mould and music of His high
and Godlike speech.  Lo!  The sun that shone
on Him, shines now on us; when day is gone,
the moon of Galilee comes forth again,
and lights our path as His; an endless chain
of years and sorrows makes the round world one.'

(from Fervorinos From Galilee's Hills, 
compiled by a Religious, Pelligrini, Australia, 1936, p. 22)









Painting:  Gustav Bauernfeind, Wailing Wall

I Learned to See, When Groping Through the Night

                     'Tonight I am remorseful, and I stand
                     a shame-faced mendicant before Your door,
                     humbly surrendering a world-scarred hand,
                     to pick the crumbs that fall upon the floor.
                     Forget the day I marched out proud and cold,
                     unmindful of the sacrifice You made;
                     and unabashed, I scorned the humble fold
                     and its mute harmony.  Still unafraid,
                     my spirit fled through dark that knew no dawn.
                     Oh, bid me stay where strife dare not intrude.
                     Dissolve the past into oblivion,
                     and let me rest once more in solitude.
                     No longer will I shun Your Guiding Light;
                     I learned to see, when groping through the night.'

           (from Fervorinos From the Lips of the Master, compiled by a Religious, Pelligrini, Australia, 1940, p. 244)

           Painting:  Leighton, The King and the Beggar-Maid 

           This post is linked to Catholic Bloggers Network Monthly Linkup

No Heart to Fly

'I cannot sing and soar, my Lord and Love,
nor eagle's wings have I,
no power to rise and greet my King and Love,
no heart to fly.
Creative Lord Incarnate, let me lean
my heavy self on Thee:
nor let my utter weakness come between
Thy strength and me....

'I cannot love, my heart is turned within,
and locked within (ah, me!
How shivering in self-love I sit) for sin
has lost the key.
O Sacred Heart of Jesus!  Flame divine,
ardent with great desire,
my hope is set upon that love of Thine
deep well of Fire!'

(from Fervorinos From Galilee's Hills, compiled by a Religious, Pelligrini, Australia, 1936, pp. 252-253)

Painting: Pained at Heart, A Hughes

This post is linked to Catholic Bloggers Network Monthly Linkup

But Strangely Unafraid

                      'I was unquiet, Lord, beneath Your hands,
                      and chafed because You chose to bend my will
                      to Yours.  I built upon uncertain sands,
                      but You are wise; and in the gloomy chill
                      of pain You razed my dream-house to the ground.
                      I was rebellious, Lord, but impotent
                      when You permitted agony to sound
                      my soul, and stripped my heart of earth's content.

                      Now like a wounded bird I lie within
                      Your hands, wings clipped, but strangely unafraid,
                      secure in Your embrace.  Great God, You win
                      my soul with all its yearnings unbetrayed,
                      and like a dove-gray dawn, peace comes to me,
                      since I have learned to suffer tranquilly.'

 (from Fervorinos From Galilee's Hills, compiled by a Religious, Pelligrini, Australia, 1936, p. 95)

Painting:  'The Stroller,' 1893 


This post is linked to Catholic Bloggers Network Monthly Linkup

You Shall Reap in Joy the Harvest

                                                
                                               Sow with a generous hand;
                                               pause not for toil or pain;
                                               weary not through the heat of summer,
                                               weary not through the cold spring rain;
                                               But wait till the autumn comes
                                               for the sheaves of golden grain.

                                               Sow, while the seeds are lying
                                               in the warm earth's bosom deep;
                                               and your warm tears fall upon it,
                                               they will stir in their quiet sleep;
                                               And the green blades rise the quicker,
                                               perchance for the tears you weep.

                                              Then sow, for the hours are fleeting
                                              and the seed must fall today;
                                              And care not what hands shall reap it
                                              or if you have passed away
                                              before the wavering cornfields
                                              shall gladden the sunny day.

                                              Sow, and look onward, upward,
                                              while the starry light appears,
                                              Where in spite of the coward's doubting
                                              or your own heart's trembling fears,
                                              you shall reap in joy the harvest
                                              you have sown today in tears.

(from In Love With The Divine Outcast, compiled by A Religious, Pelligrini, Australia, 1934, pp. 170-171)

Painting:  Fendi der saemann

I Hear the Feet of God

'Deep in the dark, I hear the feet of God;
He walks the world, He puts His holy hand
on every sleeper...

Benedictions on each one -
then passes on, but ah!  whene'er He meets
a watcher waiting for Him, He is glad..

He rests His hand upon the watcher's brow
but more than that, He leaves His very Breath
upon the watcher's soul; and more than this:

He stays for holy hours where watchers pray;
and more than that, He oft times lifts the veils
that hide the visions of the worlds unseen.

The brightest sanctities of highest souls 
have blossomed into beauty in the dark.'  

(written by 'A Religious,' LISTENING TO THE INDWELLING PRESENCE, Pellegrini, Sydney, 1940,  p. 42)
 
Painting: Kruseman Maagden, Wise and Foolish Virgins 

This post is linked to Catholic Bloggers Network Linkup Blitz

And Leaves Me Dreaming

How may I tell you of the thoughts I hold
concealed from men as misers guard their gold,
lest in their speech their beauty like a bird
set free, escape and young new thoughts that stirred
my love to flames grow still and strangely old?

I am the undisputed property
of Him whose wishes I may not deny;
a Lover jealous of my heart, Who fills
the whole of it and in His mastery
withdraws my heart from what is passing by,
and leaves me dreaming of Eternal hills.

(written by 'A Religious,' LISTENING TO THE INDWELLING PRESENCE, Pellegrini, Sydney, 1940,  p. 99)

Painting:  Jules Breton, Asleep in the Woods

This post is linked to Catholic Bloggers Network Linkup Blitz 

Conversion

I fled Him, down the nights and down the days;
I fled Him, down the arches of the years;
I fled Him, down the labyrinthine ways
Of my own mind; and in the mist of tears
I hid from Him, and under running laughter.
Up vistaed hopes I sped;
And shot, precipitated,
Adown Titanic glooms of chasmèd fears,
From those strong Feet that followed, 
followed after.
But with unhurrying chase,
And unperturbèd pace,
Deliberate speed, majestic instancy,
They beat  - and a Voice beat
More instant than the Feet -
'All things betray thee, who betrayest Me.......'

(First part of 'The Hound of Heaven' by Francis Thompson)

Behold.

I stand at the door

and knock.    

         

 Jesus: Revelation 3:20 

Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
                                             
                                        Robert Frost

A Thousand Graces

Pouring out a thousand graces,

He passed these groves in haste;

and having looked at them, 

with His image alone,

clothed them in beauty.

 St. John of the Cross, Spiritual Canticle, Stanza Five

Painting:  Thomas Cole, Falls of the Kaaterskill, in US public domain

The Road Less Traveled

I was a bit beside myself today to find this video.  To hear one of my favorite poets reading his own work, with the emphases he had in mind as he composed it, is a rare treat for me.

Is this everyone's favorite poem?  It certainly is one of mine. 

I found this at Our Journey.  There are several poetry "readings" over there!





"He guides me in right paths for His Name's sake."  (Psalm 23:3)

"Since the blood of Jesus assures our entrance into the sanctuary by the new and living path He has opened up for us through (the veil meaning His flesh), and since we have a great Priest Who is over the house of God, let us draw near with utter sincerity and absolute confidence..." (Hebrews 10:19-21)

"I am the Way, and the Truth, and the Life..."  (Jesus in John 14:6)

(William Bliss Baker painting in US public domain)

This post is linked to Catholic Bloggers Network Monthly Round Up  

In Fadeless Splendor

Sometimes when autumn's mellow sunlight spills

On painted pomp of wooded heights the while,

My heart grows homesick for the Eternal Hills

Bathed in the fadeless splendor of His Smile.

                                                    Sister M. Angelita, "Nostalgia"

Walter Moras painting in US public domain 

This post is linked to Catholic Bloggers Network Monthly Round Up