one word firespike: growing
passel of growth
in the winsome tides
sinners begetting
new growth
new vibe
in the end we
accomplish
next to
nothing, in the derivations
of our peace.
in the winsome tides
sinners begetting
new growth
new vibe
in the end we
accomplish
next to
nothing, in the derivations
of our peace.
Labels: tender mercies
posted by murat11 at 4:27 PM
10 Comments:
This one is deep, Brother Murat. Lots of potential theological questions are sparked by this one. Not sure I want to go there. I like the juxtaposition of "sinners begetting / new growth / new vibe" and your label "tender mercies". Ain't it so true???
I also am very struck by the final four lines: "in the end we / accomplish / next to / nothing, in the derivations / of our peace."
The tessering from the firespike with its "passel of growth in the winsome" tides to "the derivations of our peace" is truly amazing, but the whole poem rings true.
Great work!
Teresa: I wasn't sure I wanted to go there either, after reading back through. I like that word "potential," since it leaves room to demur, if so inclined. This tessering could definitely leave one wobbly.
Thanks for jumping through.
For all our changing we stay the same..
Dee: I didn't like that conclusion, but there it was, staring me in the face.
Aloha-
Oft see you at East Meets West and at Cunieform Scratchings so I know you have quirky and excellent taste. Now (reading your profile) I find you too are a water snake year person like myself.
Fate! Don't fight it. Come avisiting!
Comfort Spiral
Ah, but Murat, it's "next to nothing" so that means we accomplish something. Every one just does his or her little bit, and for each it's just a little bit, but collectively as the human race, it's a lot. We need to see that...
We're not entirely the same. There is that modicum of progress. And that brings us peace.
Yes, and no, as usual. We grow toward the light, but it takes so long to get there. "The arc of history is long, but it bends toward justice." It's that, or I can't go on..
Teresa: Thank you. I like the clarifications: it is in the gathering bits that we find our growing lives. New eyes seeing this poem this morning.
Cloudia, companion snake woman, welcome. Fate, don't fight, and feets, don't fail! I'll come a-visiting, by and by. Thanks for dropping in.
Richard: I hear you; it do indeed bend, it do. Back from your travels? I trust they were restful and all else you wanted them to be.
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