HE rises and begins to round,
He drops the silver chain of sound
Of many links without a break,
In chirrup, whistle, slur and shake,
All intervolv’d and spreading wide,
5
Like water-dimples down a tide
Where ripple ripple overcurls
And eddy into eddy whirls;
A press of hurried notes that run
So fleet they scarce are more than one,
10
Yet changingly the trills repeat
And linger ringing while they fleet,
Sweet to the quick o’ the ear, and dear
To her beyond the handmaid ear,
Who sits beside our inner springs,
15
Too often dry for this he brings,
Which seems the very jet of earth
At sight of sun, her musci’s mirth,
As up he wings the spiral stair,
A song of light, and pierces air
20
With fountain ardor, fountain play,
To reach the shining tops of day,
And drink in everything discern’d
An ecstasy to music turn’d,
Impell’d by what his happy bill
25
Disperses; drinking, showering still,
Unthinking save that he may give
His voice the outlet, there to live
Renew’d in endless notes of glee,
So thirsty of his voice is he,
30
For all to hear and all to know
That he is joy, awake, aglow,
The tumult of the heart to hear
Through pureness filter’d crystal-clear,
And know the pleasure sprinkled bright
35
By simple singing of delight,
Shrill, irreflective, unrestrain’d,
Rapt, ringing, on the jet sustain’d
Without a break, without a fall,
Sweet-silvery, sheer lyrical,
40
Perennial, quavering up the chord
Like myriad dews of sunny sward
That trembling into fulness shine,
And sparkle dropping argentine;
Such wooing as the ear receives
45
From zephyr caught in choric leaves
Of aspens when their chattering net
Is flush’d to white with shivers wet;
And such the water-spirit’s chime
On mountain heights in morning’s prime,
50
Too freshly sweet to seem excess,
Too animate to need a stress;
But wider over many heads
The starry voice ascending spreads,
Awakening, as it waxes thin,
55
The best in us to him akin;
And every face to watch him rais’d,
Puts on the light of children prais’d,
So rich our human pleasure ripes
When sweetness on sincereness pipes,
60
Though nought be promis’d from the seas,
But only a soft-ruffling breeze
Sweep glittering on a still content,
Serenity in ravishment.
For singing till his heaven fills,
65
’T is love of earth that he instils,
And ever winging up and up,
Our valley is his golden cup,
And he the wine which overflows
To lift us with him as he goes:
70
The woods and brooks, the sheep and kine
He is, the hills, the human line,
The meadows green, the fallows brown,
The dreams of labor in the town;
He sings the sap, the quicken’d veins;
75
The wedding song of sun and rains
He is, the dance of children, thanks
Of sowers, shout of primrose-banks,
And eye of violets while they breathe;
All these the circling song will wreathe,
80
And you shall hear the herb and tree,
The better heart of men shall see,
Shall feel celestially, as long
As you crave nothing save the song.
Was never voice of ours could say
85
Our inmost in the sweetest way,
Like yonder voice aloft, and link
All hearers in the song they drink:
Our wisdom speaks from failing blood,
Our passion is too full in flood,
90
We want the key of his wild note
Of truthful in a tuneful throat,
The song seraphically free
Of taint of personality,
So pure that it salutes the suns
95
The voice of one for millions,
In whom the millions rejoice
For giving their one spirit voice.
Yet men have we, whom we revere,
Now names, and men still housing here,
100
Whose lives, by many a battle-dint
Defaced, and grinding wheels on flint,
Yield substance, though they sing not, sweet
For song our highest heaven to greet:
Whom heavenly singing gives us new,
105
Enspheres them brilliant in our blue,
From firmest base to farthest leap,
Because their love of Earth is deep,
And they are warriors in accord
With life to serve and pass reward,
110
So touching purest and so heard
In the brain’s reflex of yon bird;
Wherefore their soul in me, or mine,
Through self-forgetfulness divine,
In them, that song aloft maintains,
115
To fill the sky and thrill the plains
With showerings drawn from human stores,
As he to silence nearer soars,
Extends the world at wings and dome,
More spacious making more our home,
120
Till lost on his aërial rings
In light, and then the fancy sings.
Showing posts with label poems. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poems. Show all posts
Much Ado About Nothing, 1.10.08
There was a star danced,
And you were born.
There was a star fallen,
And you were torn.
But once you came to Earth,
Carrying your enormous yoke,
I looked at my past and realized…
Without you, it was all a joke.
It all seemed like it was something,
But without you, it’s much ado about nothing.
It changes me every time I talk to you,
That’s how I know you’re the much ado.
If you were to leave,
I couldn’t even live.
If your love was gone,
I couldn’t even give.
But as long as you’re still here,
Let me tell you something…
Of all the beautiful stars in the sky,
You are by far the most stunning.
They may say I’m not a man,
They may say I’m still a youth.
But I’m a man while I’m around you,
And that’s more than the truth.
And you were born.
There was a star fallen,
And you were torn.
But once you came to Earth,
Carrying your enormous yoke,
I looked at my past and realized…
Without you, it was all a joke.
It all seemed like it was something,
But without you, it’s much ado about nothing.
It changes me every time I talk to you,
That’s how I know you’re the much ado.
If you were to leave,
I couldn’t even live.
If your love was gone,
I couldn’t even give.
But as long as you’re still here,
Let me tell you something…
Of all the beautiful stars in the sky,
You are by far the most stunning.
They may say I’m not a man,
They may say I’m still a youth.
But I’m a man while I’m around you,
And that’s more than the truth.
The Phantom
Take this weight off my back.
Tell me you're there, somewhere in the black.
This life is dark and cold,
Just a remnant of the days of old.
"All I need is one more day,"
At least that's what I say.
How do I keep lying to my face
When all I have left is this empty space?
This phantom comes back to haunt me,
Continuing to taunt me.
It lets me know that I can't do it on my own,
That I will always be alone.
If I continue to listen to it,
I'll be lost, I fear.
"I've got to do something,"
I think, as I let drop one tear.
Slowly I realize my only hope,
A man with scars stands there on the slope.
As he holds out his hands, battered and bruised,
I begin to sob, for I know he's been used.
He offers me a gift, something I need.
I run to his feet and fall to my knees.
I beg him for mercy, which I don't deserve.
He smiles at me and laughs to calm my wretched nerves.
Finally I rise, no longer feeling ill.
We walk hand in hand to the top of the hill.
There in the valley what I see, I'm amazed;
Countless people were lost, but now they are saved.
The phantom no longer haunts me, save in my memories,
Since that day on the hill I fell to my knees.
The man who took me is there evermore.
He stands strong and victorious, my Beloved Savior.
Tell me you're there, somewhere in the black.
This life is dark and cold,
Just a remnant of the days of old.
"All I need is one more day,"
At least that's what I say.
How do I keep lying to my face
When all I have left is this empty space?
This phantom comes back to haunt me,
Continuing to taunt me.
It lets me know that I can't do it on my own,
That I will always be alone.
If I continue to listen to it,
I'll be lost, I fear.
"I've got to do something,"
I think, as I let drop one tear.
Slowly I realize my only hope,
A man with scars stands there on the slope.
As he holds out his hands, battered and bruised,
I begin to sob, for I know he's been used.
He offers me a gift, something I need.
I run to his feet and fall to my knees.
I beg him for mercy, which I don't deserve.
He smiles at me and laughs to calm my wretched nerves.
Finally I rise, no longer feeling ill.
We walk hand in hand to the top of the hill.
There in the valley what I see, I'm amazed;
Countless people were lost, but now they are saved.
The phantom no longer haunts me, save in my memories,
Since that day on the hill I fell to my knees.
The man who took me is there evermore.
He stands strong and victorious, my Beloved Savior.
Job 26: A Rendition
“The dead tremble—those who live beneath the waters.
The underworld is naked in God’s presence.
The place of destruction is uncovered.
God stretches the northern sky over empty space
And hangs the earth on nothing.
He wraps the rain in his thick clouds,
And the clouds don’t burst with the weight.
He covers the face of the moon, shrouding it with his clouds.
He created the horizon when he separated the waters;
He set the boundary between day and night.
The foundations of heaven tremble; they shudder at his rebuke.
By his power the sea grew calm.
By his skill he crushed the great sea monster.
His Spirit made the heavens beautiful,
And his power pierced the gliding serpent.
These are just the beginning of all that he does,
Merely a whisper of his power.
Who, then, can comprehend the thunder of his power?”
God is so powerful it is incomprehensible! We can say that we understand his ways, but by saying that we are merely highlighting our own ignorance. Isaiah talks about how God's ways and thoughts are higher than our own. That means that we cannot fully understand him, no matter how hard we try. Job's friends were trying to convince him that they knew God, or at least knew him enough to tell Job how he should act in his present situation. Then in chapter 38, God challenges Job by pretty much giving a resume of his accomplishments, not because he is cocky, but because God is allowed to reveal to us his glorious nature in order to help us move into a better (and yet not full) understanding of his power, our purpose, and Christ's promise.
So, let me give a rendition of Job 26 as I can see it:
"Everything ever created, whether living or dead, past or present, fears God.
There is nothing God can't see or hear, because he has a hand in his creation.
He took the sky and made it our ceiling, stretching as far as the eye can see.
He suspends the Earth in space, in a seemingly endless nothingness.
He gives the rain a blanket in the clouds,
Harboring it from the elements until its anointed time.
And even with their great and precious cargo, the clouds don't falter.
He created the dark side of the moon,
Hiding it from prying eyes and keeping it as one of his many mysteries.
He made the horizon when he created the seas,
So that human beings could look to it for hope of things to come.
He tells the sun where to rise and where to rest,
And he holds the moon in the clear night sky.
Everything ever created, whether living or dead, past or present, fears God.
All creation trembles at God's anger, for he is immensely powerful.
When the waves became rowdy, he comforted them with sweet whispers.
He slayed the great sea dragon, Rahab, controlling chaos and bringing order.
His Spirit was the inspiration for the great painted sunsets and the beautiful cloudy skies.
And even more amazing is that these are merely a few of his creations,
Only a touch of his glory, a taste of his Spirit, a whisper of his power.
Again, I say, his ways are incomprehensible. Oh! What a beautiful God!"
The underworld is naked in God’s presence.
The place of destruction is uncovered.
God stretches the northern sky over empty space
And hangs the earth on nothing.
He wraps the rain in his thick clouds,
And the clouds don’t burst with the weight.
He covers the face of the moon, shrouding it with his clouds.
He created the horizon when he separated the waters;
He set the boundary between day and night.
The foundations of heaven tremble; they shudder at his rebuke.
By his power the sea grew calm.
By his skill he crushed the great sea monster.
His Spirit made the heavens beautiful,
And his power pierced the gliding serpent.
These are just the beginning of all that he does,
Merely a whisper of his power.
Who, then, can comprehend the thunder of his power?”
God is so powerful it is incomprehensible! We can say that we understand his ways, but by saying that we are merely highlighting our own ignorance. Isaiah talks about how God's ways and thoughts are higher than our own. That means that we cannot fully understand him, no matter how hard we try. Job's friends were trying to convince him that they knew God, or at least knew him enough to tell Job how he should act in his present situation. Then in chapter 38, God challenges Job by pretty much giving a resume of his accomplishments, not because he is cocky, but because God is allowed to reveal to us his glorious nature in order to help us move into a better (and yet not full) understanding of his power, our purpose, and Christ's promise.
So, let me give a rendition of Job 26 as I can see it:
"Everything ever created, whether living or dead, past or present, fears God.
There is nothing God can't see or hear, because he has a hand in his creation.
He took the sky and made it our ceiling, stretching as far as the eye can see.
He suspends the Earth in space, in a seemingly endless nothingness.
He gives the rain a blanket in the clouds,
Harboring it from the elements until its anointed time.
And even with their great and precious cargo, the clouds don't falter.
He created the dark side of the moon,
Hiding it from prying eyes and keeping it as one of his many mysteries.
He made the horizon when he created the seas,
So that human beings could look to it for hope of things to come.
He tells the sun where to rise and where to rest,
And he holds the moon in the clear night sky.
Everything ever created, whether living or dead, past or present, fears God.
All creation trembles at God's anger, for he is immensely powerful.
When the waves became rowdy, he comforted them with sweet whispers.
He slayed the great sea dragon, Rahab, controlling chaos and bringing order.
His Spirit was the inspiration for the great painted sunsets and the beautiful cloudy skies.
And even more amazing is that these are merely a few of his creations,
Only a touch of his glory, a taste of his Spirit, a whisper of his power.
Again, I say, his ways are incomprehensible. Oh! What a beautiful God!"
The Nebula, 11.8.06
The Nebula swirls.
All pink, dark blue, and black,
Vague; it marauds my mind with thoughts unseen,
Unfelt for centuries.
I think of all the men who have sailed its rolling waves before,
Both great and meek.
I think of all the tragedies, comedies, romances
Played out beneath its billowing clouds of dust and ash.
Then I think of its vastness,
How small I am in comparison to its seamlessly fashioned sky.
All the achievements are mere dust,
All the buildings, the families, the wealth,
The love, the loss, the happiness, the sadness,
The thoughts and emotions of the human race are fleeting
In comparison to the Nebula.
And yet, the Nebula is also mere water, dirt, grass, air, heat, cold.
Nothing that matters or can be really felt in comparison with HIM.
I see only a taste of HIS greatness everyday,
Among HIS creation, within my body, in a breath, in a thought.
And yet, HE stoops to hear me.
HE bends down and listens to me as if I were nothing but an ant.
And still, HE loves me more than anything else in HIS creation.
The Nebula still swirls,
But it moves slower now.
Maybe because I understand just a little bit of it.
Maybe because HE wants it to.
Or maybe because of a sign of the times to come,
When we will truly see HIM
In all HIS awesome splendor.
All pink, dark blue, and black,
Vague; it marauds my mind with thoughts unseen,
Unfelt for centuries.
I think of all the men who have sailed its rolling waves before,
Both great and meek.
I think of all the tragedies, comedies, romances
Played out beneath its billowing clouds of dust and ash.
Then I think of its vastness,
How small I am in comparison to its seamlessly fashioned sky.
All the achievements are mere dust,
All the buildings, the families, the wealth,
The love, the loss, the happiness, the sadness,
The thoughts and emotions of the human race are fleeting
In comparison to the Nebula.
And yet, the Nebula is also mere water, dirt, grass, air, heat, cold.
Nothing that matters or can be really felt in comparison with HIM.
I see only a taste of HIS greatness everyday,
Among HIS creation, within my body, in a breath, in a thought.
And yet, HE stoops to hear me.
HE bends down and listens to me as if I were nothing but an ant.
And still, HE loves me more than anything else in HIS creation.
The Nebula still swirls,
But it moves slower now.
Maybe because I understand just a little bit of it.
Maybe because HE wants it to.
Or maybe because of a sign of the times to come,
When we will truly see HIM
In all HIS awesome splendor.
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