Books and Blogs by David W. Jones
Kabir
I felt in need of a great pilgrimage
so I sat still for three
days
and God came
to me.
William Williams, 1745
Guide me
O Thou
Great Jehovah.
I am a pilgrim
in a barren land.
I am weak
but Thou art mighty.
Hold me
with Your
powerful hand.
Robyn Sarah
It is possible that things will not get better
than they are now, or have been known to be.
It is possible that we are past the middle now.
It is possible that we have crossed the great water
without knowing it, and stand now on the other side.
Yes: I think that we have crossed it. Now
we are being given tickets, and they are not
tickets to the show we had been thinking of,
but to a different show, clearly inferior.
Check again: it is our own name on the envelope.
The tickets are to that other show.
It is possible that we will walk out of the darkened hall
without waiting for the last act: people do.
Some people do. But it is probable
that we will stay seated in our narrow seats
all through the tedious dénouement
to the unsurprising end — riveted, as it were;
spellbound by our own imperfect lives
because they are lives,
and because they are ours.
Alistair MacLean
As the rain
hides the stars,
as the autumn mist
hides the hills,
as the clouds veil
the blue of the sky,
so the dark
happenings
of my life
hide the shining
of Your face
from me.
I am reaching out to You.
If You will let me
take hold of Your hand,
though I may stumble,
I will not fall,
because You,
unfailing,
never falter.
William Stafford
There’s a thread you follow. It goes among
things that change. But it doesn’t change.
People wonder about what you are pursuing.
You have to explain about the thread.
But it is hard for others to see.
While you hold it you can’t get lost.
Tragedies happen; people get hurt
or die; and you suffer and get old.
Nothing you do can stop time’s unfolding.
You don’t ever let go of the thread.
I believe
You are real
though
I cannot
see You.
I believe
You are near
though
I cannot
sense You.
I believe
You care for me
though
I cannot
feel You.
Draw me closer
so that I may
see You,
feel Your presence,
sense Your love.
I believe,
Help my unbelief.
Rumi
This we have now is not imagination.
This is not grief or joy.
Not a judging state, or an elation, or sadness.
Those come and go.
This is the presence that doesn’t.
Henri Nouwen
Dear God,
I am so afraid
to open my clenched fists!
Who will I be when I have nothing left to hold on to?
Who will I be when I stand
before you with empty hands?
Please help me
to gradually open my hands
and to discover
that I am not what I own,
but what you want to give me.
And what you want to give me
is love,
unconditional,
everlasting love.
Amen.
|
At this height, Kansas
is just a concept,
a checkerboard design of wheat and corn
no larger than the foldout section
of my neighbor’s travel magazine.
At this stage of the journey
I would estimate the distance
between myself and my own feelings
is roughly the same as the mileage
from Seattle to New York,
so I can lean back into the upholstered interval
between Muzak and lunch,
a little bored, a little old and strange.
I remember, as a dreamy
backyard kind of kid,
tilting up my head to watch
those planes engrave the sky
in lines so steady and so straight
they implied the enormous concentration
of good men,
but now my eyes flicker
from the in-flight movie
to the stewardess’s pantyline,
then back into my book,
where men throw harpoons at something
much bigger and probably
better than themselves,
wanting to kill it,
wanting to see great clouds of blood erupt
to prove that they exist.
Imagine being born and growing up,
rushing through the world for sixty years
at unimaginable speeds.
Imagine a century like a room so large,
a corridor so long
you could travel for a lifetime
and never find the door,
until you had forgotten
that such a thing as doors exist.
Better to be on board the Pequod,
with a mad one-legged captain
living for revenge.
Better to feel the salt wind
spitting in your face,
to hold your sharpened weapon high,
to see the glisten
of the beast beneath the waves.
What a relief it would be
to hear someone in the crew
cry out like a gull,
Oh Captain, Captain!
Where are we going now?
God,
My heart is not large enough,
enlarge it.
My vision is not clear enough,
enlighten it.
My will is not tough enough,
strengthen it.
I can’t get there on my own,
take me.
Emily Dickinson
The Infinite a sudden guest
Has been assumed to be,
But how can that stupendous come
Which never went away?
Walter Smith, 1876
Immortal
Invisible
God only wise
In light
Inaccessible
Hid from my eyes
Most blessed
Most glorious
Ancient of Days
Almighty
Victorious
Your great name
I praise.
Unknown
Joseph,
sitting at the bottom of a well,
cast there by his brothers,
listened ahead to the end
of his story.
Listeners like him,
travelers on the way,
understand success and
un-success both
as part of the story.
They are one.
Sarah F. Adams 1805-1848
Nearer
my God
to Thee.
Nearer
my God.
to Thee.
Even though
it be a cross
that raiseth me,
Nearer
my God
to Thee.
from The Bay Psalm Book
The Lord to me a shepherd is,
Want therefore I shall not,
He in the folds of tender grass
Doth make me down to lie
To waters calm he gently leads
Restore my soul doth he
He doth in paths of righteousness
For his names sake lead me.
Yea though in valley of death’s shade
I walk none ill I’ll fear,
Because thou art with me, thy rod,
and staff my comfort are.
For me a table thou hast spread
In presence of my foes;
Thou dost annoint my head with oil
My cup it over-flows.
Goodness and mercy surely shall
All my days follow me;
And in the Lord’s house I shall dwell
So long as days shall be.
Lord,
You are my shepherd.
You guide me
down the right path,
to green pastures,
by quiet waters,
where You restore my soul.
I trust and am not afraid,
even in the darkest valley
where death seems all around
I trust and am not afraid
because You comfort me.
You prepare me a table,
You anoint my head,
You fill my cup.
I trust and am not afraid,
because in Your house
I will dwell forever.
Lord,
You are my shepherd.
Wendell Berry
When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.
Folliott Sanford Pierpoint 1864
For the beauty
of Your earth
for the beauty
of Your skies
for the beauty
of Your love
which from my birth
over and around me lies…
Lord of all to You I raise
this my prayer of grateful praise.
For the beauty
of each hour
of the day
and of the night
hill and vale
tree and flower
sun and moon
stars of light…
Lord of all to You I raise
this my prayer of grateful praise.
Tomas Tranströmer
I
We got ready and showed our home
The visitor thought: you live well.
The slum must be inside you.
II
Inside the church, pillars and vaulting
white as plaster, like the cast
around the broken arm of faith.
III
Inside the church there’s a begging bowl
that slowly lifts from the floor
and floats along the pews.
IV
But the church bells have gone underground.
They’re hanging in the sewage pipes.
Whenever we take a step, they ring.
V
Nicodemus the sleepwalker is on his way
to the Address. Who’s got the Address?
Don’t know. But that’s where we’re going.
Charlotte Elliott 1834
Tossed about
with many conflicts
many doubts
just as I am
to You I come.
Fightings and fears
within and without
just as I am
to You I come.
You will receive
You will welcome
pardon cleanse relieve
just as I am
to You I come.
Your promise
I believe
just as I am
to You I come.
Just as I am
to You I come.
Antonio Machado
Is my soul asleep?
Have those beehives that labor
at night stopped? And the water-
wheel of thought,
is it dry, the cups empty,
wheeling, carrying only shadows?
No, my soul is not asleep,
It is awake, wide awake.
It neither sleeps nor dreams, but watches,
its clear eyes open,
far-off things, and listens
at the shores of the great silence.
When I look at the stars,
the skies,
the heavens…
I think, “Who am I?”
Who am I that You
Creator of the ends of the universe
Notice me?
Think of me?
Care about me?
Who am I?
I am Yours.
Yours.
Yours.
Thank You…
Thank You…
Thank You…
For caring about me.
I Love Jesus
Antonio Machado
—I love Jesus, who said to us:
Heaven and earth will pass away.
When heaven and earth have passed away,
my word will remain.
What was your word, Jesus?
Love? Forgiveness? Affection?
All your words were
one word: Wakeup.
William H. Foulkes 1918
Take Thou my mind
dear Lord
I humbly pray.
Give me
the mind of Christ
each passing day.
Teach me
to know the truth
that sets me free.
Grant me
in all my thoughts
to honor Thee.
|
Rumi
Imagine a man selling his donkey to be with Jesus.
Now imagine him selling Jesus to get a ride on a donkey.
This does happen.
Dag Hammarskjold
God,
Give me a pure heart
that I may see Thee,
a humble heart
that I may hear Thee,
a heart of love
that I may serve Thee,
a heart of faith
that I may abide in Thee.
Antonio Machado
—Mankind owns four things
that are no good at sea:
rudder, anchor, oars
and the fear of going down.
Frances Ridley Havergal 1874
Take my life
and let it be
consecrated
Lord to Thee.
Take my silver
and my gold
not a cent
do I withhold.
Take my moments
and my days
let them flow
in ceaseless praise.
Take myself
and I will be
ever only
all for Thee.
William Stafford
You can’t tell when strange things with meaning
will happen. I’m [still] here writing it down
just the way it was.
“You don’t have to prove anything,”
my mother said. “Just be ready
for what God sends.”
I listened and put my hand
out in the sun again. It was all easy.
Edwin Hatch
Breathe on me
Breath of God
Fill me
with life anew
I want to love
as You love
and do
as You want me to do.
Breathe on me
Breath of God
until I
am wholly Thine
until this
earthly part of me
glows with
Your fire divine.
Hafiz
Foolish one,
do something,
or else you’ll just be
standing there, looking dumb.
If you are not traveling
and on the road,
how can you call yourself a guide?
Show me,
Gracious Lord,
the peace I should seek,
the peace I can keep,
the peace I must forgo,
and the peace I must give,
For Your kingdom’s sake.
Christina Rossetti
As rivers seek the sea,
Much more deep than they,
So my soul seeks thee
Far away:
As running rivers moan
On their course alone
So I moan
Left alone.
As the delicate rose
To the sun’s sweet strength
Doth herself unclose,
Breadth and length:
So spreads my heart to thee
Unveiled utterly,
I to thee
Utterly.
As morning dew exhales
Sunwards pure and free,
So my spirit fails
After thee:
As dew leaves not a trace
On the green earth’s face;
I, no trace
On thy face.
Its goal the river knows,
Dewdrops find a way,
Sunlight cheers the rose
In her day:
Shall I, lone sorrow past,
Find thee at the last?
Sorrow past,
Thee at last?
As a deer
thirsts for a stream,
so my soul
thirsts for You.
I start to weep,
I begin to moan,
then I say to my soul,
“Soul, why so cast down?
“Trust God,
“Hope again.”
As a deer
thirsts for a stream,
so my soul
thirsts for You.
|
