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Archive for November, 2016

The Second Coming

falcon

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.

Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: a waste of desert sand;
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Wind shadows of the indignant desert birds.

The darkness drops again but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

William Butler Yeats (1865-1939)

Photo accessed through Google images

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For Today

fall-leaves2

For today

There is too much to take in,

News that I did not want to hear.

A deep sense of something that disintegrates

Before my eyes.

And yet.

And yet.

 

Despite the swallowing darkness

That lurks at my edges,

Despite the swirling waters that rise,

God is.

God’s eternal answer is

“I Am.”

 

The psalmist’s answer is

“Answer me, O Lord, for your love is kind;

in your great compassion, turn to me.”[1]

 

For today,

The sun shines her light on my face.

Crisp fall air awakens my body.

The moments of life wait

For me to hold, to savor.

 

For today, the morning breeze

Stirs wind chimes

On my back porch.

 

That sweet, gentle music

Is enough

To lift my spirit.

To bring gladness to

A heavy heart.

 

Sheila N. McJilton

Nov. 4, 2016

[1] Psalm 69: 18

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