These Are The Words For Me, With A Certain Sense of Joy, Goodbye

  Good-Bye Lyrics

By Christine Dente

One day went running on a grassy field
Too few came following
Your spirit flew this earthy place
And so with heavy hearts, yet a certain sense of joy
We say good-bye

And we are left to question
What do we do with this?
A day we all expect, yet unexpected always is
How beautiful the hope of those who know
Where they will go

He set us free
So we need not be afraid
We need not stay longer than the number of our days
Let us love
Mourn and suffer for His sake
Until the day it dawns on us when we must say
Good-bye

See, we're the ones who wonder
We the ones who live
To read and write and ponder 'til our eyes begin to dim
How glorious the joy of those who go
They already know

He set us free
So we need not be afraid
We need not stay longer than the number of our days
Let us love
Mourn and suffer for His sake
Until the day it dawns on us when we must say
Good-bye

On a day like today my heart is bound a little less
To the tired and tiring vanities of life
Like a butterfly emerging, struggling to be free
I feel the lift, I sense the give it takes
To send me flying from this earthy place

He set us free
So we need not be afraid
We need not stay longer than the number of our days
Let us love
Mourn and suffer for His sake
Until the day it dawns when we must say
Good-bye

Tears in our eyes, we say good-bye, too soon to fly,
We wonder why, we say good-bye

© 2002 Mighty Grey Music/Lil' Yella House Music/
Dayspring Music, LLC (BMI)

(Found on the recording "Becoming" by Christine Dente)

There is no reason to speak today,

But on my final day,

These are the words for me.

With a certain sense of joy,

Good-bye.

It's Coming Up Roses

Daniel F Gerhartz ~ Ladies & Flowers

A profusion of pink roses 
Bending ragged in the rain 
Speaks to me of all gentleness 
And its enduring. 
~The Collected Later Poems of William Carlos Williams

Her Favorite Place

Her Favorite Place ~ Daniel F Gerhotz

I stand in this place,

But very far away,

Drowning my thoughts,

Into the river's flow.

What Jane Looked Like

Photo Credits, left to right:
Credit: ITV West Country/Katie Rowlett
Credit: ITV News West Country/Charlie Souter-Phillips

The Jane Austen Centre in Bath has revealed what they believe Jane really looked like after extensive research. 

Could this be the face of Jane Austen? 

I have made myself two or three caps to wear of evenings since I came home, and they save me a world of torment as to hair-dressing, which at present gives me no trouble beyond washing and brushing, for my long hair is always plaited up out of sight, and my short hair curls well enough to want no papering.

JANE AUSTEN, letter, Dec. 2, 1798

 

A Hundred Flowers

I will be the gladdest thing
Under the sun.
I will touch a hundred flowers
And not pick one.
~Edna St. Vincent Millay

(If you look closely, you will see that this flower has a visitor)

Liner Notes

Photo credit: @albapro/Instagram

"I'm in love with this country called America. I'm a huge fan of America, I'm one of those annoying fans, you know the ones that read the CD notes and follow you into bathrooms and ask you all kinds of annoying questions about why you didn't live up to that ... I'm that kind of fan. I read the Declaration of Independence and I've read the Constitution of the United States, and they are some liner notes, dude."--Bono

Warpath

I find myself on the same tired and traveled roads,

That all lead back to the start.

The bends seem to be something at first,

Then I recognize the sign posts and remember I've traveled here before,

Yet the sign posts mock me with their deceit.

They seemingly point to a new path,

Only to take me back,

Until I want to scream and shout.

This warpath I'm on is growing old,

And so am I.

Will it ever end and will I ever make my way out of the maze?

Will I ever learn the lesson this path wants to teach me?

I sometimes think not because,

I never have before so why start now?

Why not try a different map,

That offers different signs and shares a,

Rest stop for the weary.

They say if you walk the same way over and over,

And expect a different result that is stupidity.

Why do I continue then,

Beating my head against the wall,

That I have left my mark on,

From so many hits.

The right path would not be so difficult,

It should be much easier,

For footsteps to walk where they are meant to,

Rather than the path with sticks and stones,

Meant to confuse and impede.

Wearily I move forward,

But to what I know not.

Window-Mirror

Source

My most favorite window-mirror yet ~

To the Kindred Spirits

The Anne of Green Gables books, 

all 12 of them, are free on Amazon today. 

So Kindreds, now is the time 

to get them if you don't already have them on Kindle.

Show Off

This morning as I was pumping gas into my car, a hawk and two sparrows played follow the leader in the sky. The sparrows literally followed the hawk wherever it went for the best wind. Then suddenly the hawk veered over my way and flew in my view as if to taunt me that I wasn't up there with them. Such a show off.

Where Has Inspiration Gone

Summer's slow pace has overtaken me
To the point that I am simply moving
In a slow motion kind of rhythm
And it has me wondering
Where has the inspiration to write gone?

Is it in the rain?
Or gone with the wind?

Will I find it in the window mirror?

Maybe it's in dreamland?

I need to visit Reverie, maybe I will find it there.

If so, I'll let you know.

The Moon Is Full

The moon is full of it tonight.

 Art by Todd Young

Rainfire

rain hits the roof

a target on the mark

again and again

tiny liquid bullets

aimed at ears

brain and heart

reaching senses

through and through

again and again

until the last bullet hits

finally silence then

after the quiet moment

rainfire starts again

piercing ears, brain, heart

I am rainfire

through and through

again and again

A little storm just came through.

Simple words put to thoughts of rain

hitting the roof, hard at first, then a trickle,
then complete silence, only to start all over again.

Textile Art by LAURA EDGAR, copyright 2014

http://www.pinterest.com/lauraedgarart/

Life in the Woods, Walden

We can dwell in Walden literally or figuratively, and even in our dreams

The exact title of Walden is, "WALDEN OR LIFE IN THE WOODS." This just struck me tonight for some reason. If you write it backwards it becomes, "LIFE IN THE WOODS, WALDEN." An obvious thing, but rather telling and appropriate for one who wishes to live a life surrounded in the beauty of the natural world, to notice the world outside, each beautiful blessed moment of it.

In Walden, Life in the Woods, Thoreau writes, "All Good Things Are Wild and Free."
It is the wildness of the woods and the freedom of them that draws me to them. They are the last accessible frontier and we all have one.

Walden, in fact, does not require a wood at all. Walden is everywhere...  a neighborhood park to feed the ducks, a small backyard to watch the birds and feel the wind, steps that open to the morning sunrise or evening sunset. That wildness and freedom we seek out are randomly everywhere you seem to look.

A life in Walden
Is what I love most. 

I want to surround myself
With the wild open air. 

The wind and rain.
To fly like a sparrow.

To hear a songbird's chorus. 

Let me take all of it in
As the days go by. 

My days in Walden are now.

Pearls For the Girl of June

Translation:

June rose ~
To crown it all 
They bring her health
Pearls, for the girl of June
Means wealth~

I simply cannot live without June.