Sabbaths 1999, VII by Wendell Berry

Again I resume the long
lesson: how small a thing
can be pleasing, how little
in this hard world it takes
to satisfy the mind
and bring it to its rest.

With the ongoing havoc
the woods this mornng is
almost unnaturally still.
Through stalled air, unshadowed
light, a few leaves fall
of their own weight.

The sky
is gray. It ( Read more... )

chaos afire,
unconscious again
rolling along
with the light, you'll wake,
you'll wake

Lord, I did what You wanted me to.

This turn of events are beyond my comprehension but I know Your ways are higher than my ways; Your thoughts higher than my thoughts - and I pray for nothing else than that Your name be glorified through me.

If it is possible, I beg Thee: Let this cup pass from me.

we'll tinkle some jazz,
we'll spy and guess,
we'll do well with all that pizazz
and force some merry as we go around
whatever our faces parry -
a smile, a straight or a smiley frown
or from our hearts in anguish wear
and silently tear up this bloomin' town.

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To live as people under grace - redeemed and saved by grace through faith.

When we owe God everything, how do we daresay others owe us?

O, to live as people under grace.

‘...I canceled all that debt of yours because you begged me to. Shouldn’t you have had mercy on your fellow servant just as I had on you?’ Matt 18:32b-33

Lock up them chemicals, toss the key,
take a deep breath
and say the words, "I release thee!".
It will be for no one, and no one will it be.

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God has been good, and will always be. See you when I get to heaven, Uncle Paul.

"16 So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self [3] is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. 17 For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, 18 as we look not to the things that are ( Read more... )

There's this thing about playing in the rain and splashing about in the mud with reckless abandon. For those moments you release yourself from being the cautious and pristine Singaporean and throw your toes into the waterlogged field not knowing what they'd touch, you delve into a whole load of emotion-memories of what was once called childhood. ( Read more... )