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O dare I say spring?!
Today was the very first day of the year that I went out without my winter coat, which I think deserves a great HURRAH ( Read more... ) -
all the world's a stage
Here's a comment from The Times Online, a reader responding to an article about the British servicemen detained in Iran.
Oh children!
So my ball may have strayed into your garden.
Give it back please.
-Mortimer, Shen Zhen, China
If only international diplomacy worked that way. The world would be so much easier to navigate. -
how is this, for we are not so very different
Bit of an explanation: I saw a Polish film called Kanal today, a 1950s rendition of the Warsaw Uprising during World War II. I've been to Warsaw -- sort of -- and I understand now why there's nothing old there, why there's nothing left, and why all the buildings are the drab cement of Soviet architecture ( Read more... ) -
here, before you, are your hills and valleys
kneeling with words
old sieve, why so melancholy?
think you’re Atlas, but really, you’re
an alabaster vessel,
fashioned to give away
this love
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light in these ordinary days
Based on a Prayer of Rabi'a al-Adawiyya
God, if I speak my love to you in fear of hell, incinerate me in it;
if I speak my love to you in hope of heaven, close it in my face.
But if I speak to you simply because you exist, cease
withholding from me your
neverending beauty.
--Franz Wright -
ninja wizards
I'm afraid I don't remember who did this, but (despite the number of times this scene has been parodied) it's worth a chuckle.
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from the dust, returning
The winter here is cold, and bitter ( Read more... ) -
she is called the bride of the Son of God
I found this passage from St. John of the Cross in my Magnificat reading for yesterday, and am enamoured of it. The only St. John of the Cross I've read up to now has been some of his (gloriously lovely) poetry, but the more I see of him the more I love his way of writing about God and the human soul -- as an intimate, tender love affair, with all ( Read more... ) -
while boughs of cedar stirred the air
I opened the pages of St. John of the Cross' poetry last night, and chose one --
On a dark nightOn a dark night ( Read more... ) -
It is not true that I have never descended from this throne. I have descended into hell.
I've been thinking on suffering tonight, and the meaning of Jesus's passion as it relates to the uniting of the suffering of God and man. Because Jesus suffered, God understood all facets of human suffering through his own experience and not by virtue of his omniscience alone. Likewise, Jesus's passion opened the doors for man to unite his ( Read more... )