Night

Night unfolds her velvet gown
And reaches out to touch the hem
Of Day’s retreating form.
Softly, Softly,
She steals away the light,
And folds up Morning’s gown
In chests of deepest blue,
To wait until Darkness,
Has carried out her silent parade-
Then Light once more her golden skirts will shake,
And dance her way across an azure sky.

Envelopes continued...

I didn't get into SPU's program. Well, I was waitlisted, so my odds of getting in are pretty small. But it doesn't really matter, because when I saw that tiny little envelope, I realized I didn't lose anything that couldn't be found elsewhere. I don't know what I was so scared about. I'm a different person today than I was last year, not because I am better, but because Jesus Christ has met me where I am time and again. From these experiences I have been blessed with faith and hope and peace. Besides, now I'm so used to waiting that realizing I have another couple months of uncertaintity doesn't feel that bad. In fact, it feels kind of good to know that nothing has really changed. Does it hurt at all? The answer is an emphatic YES, but I know now that despite the hurt, God is working something good in my life, and he will see it to perfection. So as I sit here trying to process everything through, I am more than convinced that this tiny envelope was a very good gift from above.

An Envelope

Its time for me to finally know something about my future. I'm thrilled and terrified and so glad that I can live in blissful ignorance for another three days. I know I am different person than I was last year at this time, but I'm still afraid that everything I've learned, that who I've become will somehow change when I see whether or not I have a large envelope or a small one. I don't even have to open it if its small...I'll just know.
There's another part of me that doesn't care whether or not I stay at SPU next year;in some ways I feel ready to move on. THis year has been so good for me in so many ways, that to move on now would feel right, but to stay? What will happen if I stay?
So in three days I'll open up my envelope and a little bit of my future will unfold itself from the pages, and I'll finally know something. But what will it be? Whatever it is, it will be good.

drowning

Drowning

A rock is bound to my heart,
And a million tiny drops
Crush me with the gravity of grief.
Memories rush into the cavities
Designed for breath,
And with a gurgling surge
Choke out every last
Molecule of life.
My writhing body
Claws feebly,
In vain attempts to reach
Above the surging waves,
And at last goes still-
At rest in an ocean of pain.

The Gift

I'm not sure if I'm satisfied with this draft yet. I think its lacking something, but I need to let it soak into me for a while before I'm sure what exactly is bothering me. Anyway, here it is:

I met Sorrow
As She came along the narrow, twisted path,
Arms wide, waiting to receive me.
Her hands gripped me,
Forced me headlong
Down the path I didn’t want to go.
I closed my eyes
And ran, ran from the horror
Of cold reality.
From the misery of facing
The long, hard road
With Sorrow alone my guide.

I met Joy when she fell in step beside me
And grasped my bruised and gritty hand.
She too gripped me,
Led me down the path
I could not bear to see.
In vain I struggled to be free
Of this strange twin
To my own grief,
This apparition whose,
Raw strength was forever coupled
With my breaking.

Gifted as I was with Sorrow and with Joy,
A bitter blessing
To have been bequeathed,
A double vision I beheld-
I saw such Glory -new to me,
And Beauty -to my soul revealed.
And last, I came upon a Friend-
Pierced with both my blessings-
Whose face was Gift enough for me
And his Peace, beyond all telling.

planted

I hear the gulls crying anxiously.
Hurry, hurry,
Join the rush of wind and sky and sea.
The waves beckon
And I yearn to be free,
Free of the cage
Binding me to sand,
The gravity flowing in my veins,
Pulsing in my tissues.
But I alone
Am planted in the earth;
I alone am formed of dust.
I alone have sought what I could not have.
And so the horizon grows ever fainter,
As the one who was made for sky and sea
Is folded deeper in the earth

One Joy

Here's a poem by Emily that I really, really connect with. In many ways i feel that it is an expression of my journey through last year.

"One Joy of so much anguish
Sweet nature has for me
I shun it as I do Despair
Or dear iniquity —
Why Birds, a Summer morning
Before the Quick of Day
Should stab my ravished spirit
With Dirks of Melody
Is part of an inquiry
That will receive reply
When Flesh and Spirit sunder
In Death's Immediately —"