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Showing posts from April, 2018

All Poetry, Continued

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Yesterday, my post was interrupted by the need to attend to family. As I drove the 3 hours to be with my daughter as she gave birth, I prayed.  As I prayed, I thought about the tile from Ireland, sent by my friend, Jeanne.  I thought of the tile that sits beside my desk, where I can see it, daily. I thought of the tile that had me chewing on words and meanings. All poetry is prayer, Beckett wrote. Were my prayers poetry? As I drove through the rain to Maine, were the prayers I said poetry? Creator, be with my daughter until I can stand by her side. Momma, be with her - let her feel your presence - Calm any fears she may have. Dear Jesus, guide me to the hospital safely. Thank you, God for all my blessings. Poetry, by definition, is a "rhythmical composition, written or spoken, for exciting pleasure by beautiful, imaginative, or elevated thoughts; verse."  My thoughts were definitely elevated!  Given that, they were a form of poetry. But, what of the mea

All Poetry is Prayer

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Earlier this month, I received a gift from a friend from my hometown. The gift came from Ireland - a pottery tile with the Samuel Beckett quote, "All poetry is prayer."   Over the past few weeks, I have meditated on this quote. I have thought of the poems that I have written and the ones I have read. Surely, I thought, Beckett was seeing something I wasn't, because I have read poems that didn't appear prayerful at all. So, I delved into the meaning of prayer... ___________________ More to come tomorrow, I was called away to be with family, today.  Blessings to all! 

Just Around the Corner

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Yesterday was my mother's birthday. Momma would have been 89 years old yesterday. I had been thinking about her all day, and at one point was feeling very melancholy that I couldn't share something with her that I had found. How I wished she could be just around a corner waiting for me, or simply at the end of the phone ready to chat. As I thought this, I unconsciously picked up my phone to check my Facebook page. This isn't something I do regularly, because I try not to be a slave to social media, so the serendipity of what happened next was not wasted on me.  The post at the top of my page was from the mother of a close childhood friend. She had posted the essay below, written by Rev. Henry Scott-Holland as part of a sermon he gave in 1910 after the death of King Edward VII.  Death Is Nothing at All by Henry Scott-Holland Death is nothing at all. It does not count.  I have only slipped away into the next room. Nothing has happened. Everything remains e

In the Wee Hours of Morning

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Photo Credit: (c) 2017 L.M.R. Neas For many creative souls, the wee hours of morning are when inspiration comes flowing into being. For others, it is their time alone, without the noise of humanity or the calls to duty when they can pray or meditate. While for others, it is the beginning of their work day...a day of service to others in one form or another. Finally, the wee hours are also the end of a long night of work for some people when the comfort of bed calls them to rest. However, the wee hours of morning come to you, they are a gift...a gift not usually appreciate by youth. Morning, for many who wake early, is a time of creativity, inspiration, meditation and new beginnings. Olympic gold medal cyclist, Kristen Armstrong said about morning, "I love the big fresh starts, the clean slates like birthdays and new years, but I also really like the idea that we can get up every morning and start over." How often do we remember this? How often do we begin th

Never Beyond Hope

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Photo (c) 2017 Linda M. Rhinehart Neas The stormy winds of time and space can leave us feeling ramshackled and beyond all hope of repair, but, as Pete Seeger said, "There is always hope." The most dilapidated building can be repaired and restored.  Our spirits are even more capable of this kind of transformation, if we allow the Light into the darkened corners. Hope allows Love and Faith to plant seeds of new beginnings within us. As those seeds grow, our once crumbling spirits begin to rise and flourish. We are never beyond Hope! Like spring gardens that appear as wastelands until the rain and sun nourish the plants to blossom and bloom, we, too, can revive with Hope, Love and Faith. May we all feel the warmth of Love, the strength of Faith and the tenacity of Hope as we travel along Life's path.  Blessings to all!