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Beach DayIn undulating waves that pound the shore—
Their frothy tides embracing higher waters—
I saw my joy, and sat down to adore
The one this heart would daily choose to wander.
No distance quite too far, no background din
Too raucous that I cannot stay and ponder
All the currents stirred I'm swimming in
Inside my heart, a longing still for more,
And wanderlust for oceans to explore.
Wax and WaneOh! wide-eyed wonder high up in the sky,
My only link transcending time and space,
How many separations have gone by
Before the searing coldness of your gaze?
And always in the fullest of your phase,
When many separations must go by,
'Tis then you choose to show your pallid face
And wide-eyed, sunder sighs up to the sky.
And yet you bear no ill-will, though I try
To pin my loneliness within your place.
For when I have my love within my hold,
You wrap the night around you in its folds
And from our private union hide your face
(Oh! Wide-eyed wonder!) from sighs up to the sky.
No FallowIf fruitful labor has but one sad fate,
'tis that my mind cannot in fallow lie.
My wearied hands do not procrastinate,
I promise you, but as I sit and try
To summon up the simplest of a noun,
I'm flummoxed, flustered, full of bluster.
Fertility demands that life lay down
And give until there's none to muster:
O! what a cruel device, this sacrifice!
The StruggleThough once I said it was adversity
That birthed the most imaginative verse,
In darkness lies no creativity,
Despair itself destroys and gives no birth.
It murders, leaving no recourse for mercy,
Swallowing up the brightest minds, its maw
Insatiable except for vilest cursing
Of self-inflicted wounds all rubbed and raw.
But when the light inside me flickers fire
And cuts through darkness with its needle rays,
The smallest candlelight might then inspire
Poetic justice for defeated days.
In light alone do shadows find their shape,
The struggle from which poems find escape.
WoundsThe time when verses flow most freely from my mind
Is not when life has altogether been too kind:
The echoed strains of joy, what words could catch and capture
The speechlessness of laughter, hearts abrim with rapture?
It's hopelessness and sorrow baring wounds through words,
A crust of scabbed emotions daring to be heard;
It itches mightily, and though you want to rip
Apart the hurt and all reminders in one strip,
It stings to know there is no bottom but an ooze,
This awful spring of inspiration, pain-infused.
But give it time to heal, protect it from all harm,
And off it comes. The skin beneath is new and warm
And paler than before, but solid in its form.
Memory #4: The CostIn my sophomore year, we would have prayer meetings every Wednesday afternoon. I would say that weekly meetups and prayer meetings were the times I learned the most that year. On one level, I learned about prayer itself, and how many different ways you could pray. You could pray through the Word (praying through a psalm was a particular favorite of mine), you could pray in one voice with each other, you could simply praise and adore God, or thank him. Along with my meetups I learned more about confessing in prayer as well. On another level, I learned a lot about the many different things we could intercede for. We would pray for our campus, our ministry, our missionaries, and most importantly, our people and the various facets of their lives. It felt that every prayer meeting was learning a new thing about prayer.
But even more than these substantial lessons, I learned a lot from the older people who led the prayers. Seeing their example as prayerful men and women left a deep impressio
UnspokenUntil the day appointed when I stand
And tell you all the hope you fill in me,
I'll tell you naught of what I understand
Within my heart, unseized by urgency.
For in the promise now I see no need
To haste the swelling feeling deep inside
Nor give up hope: to pray and not to plead,
To slowly bridge this shortening divide.
But we are closer than I could have thought,
And in the light of such proximity
The sentiment our interactions wrought
Are all too easy for your eyes to see.
For now, let this reward you for your wait:
The tenderness my actions indicate.
LifthrasirWhose princely air proudly
Passed the sea in freefalls,
Who sought peace, sword flaming,
Striking words like forgefalls,
Pride of Berk, battleworn,
Breathing life where strife falls,
Prized by Líf in prayer:
Their pressed lips, blessed footfalls.
The Long MarchThe Red Army does not fear the Long March,
The hills and torrents they see as everyday.
The curving mountain ranges like mere ripples,
They roll down Mount Wumeng like balls of clay.
As Jinsha River warms the cloudy cliffs
And iron chains span Dadu River cold,
We pass through Mount Min's leagues of snow,
Three Armies pass with glowing faces bold.
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More