Life

I’ve been so very lonely in this place

I cannot understand the death of God

Are we meant to do with out his grace.

On his dying face our feet have trod

Abandoned in the darkness I fell down

I could not rise again till I had died

In The waters of my tears I drowned

I wanted only truth, they’ told me lies

Where is my map my compass my sure guide?

My guardian angel was a myth of note.

He stood behind my shoulder, by my side.

He was no man despite his shining coat

Feel inside, your instinct knows the clues.

No one else can walk on in your shoes

Love’s victory

Turn back, live again, he asked of me
Do not wander in this darkness anymore
One false step might give death victory

We are each connected to that tree
The sunlit top, the roots hid in earth’s floor
Come back, live again, he asked of me

While we live, we’ll live with dignity
Not scrabbling for the gold in blood and gore
One false step will give death victory

The kindness of the golden light was clear
And left an image in my mind’s deep core
Come back, live your life, he then soothed me

Do not wonder now why you are here
We’re here to live and living shall restore
What our suffering self has found so dear

I had never seen the Light before
Only Christ the Tyger with his roar
Come back, live through pain, he asked of me
One right step will give love victory

Most sensuous, most tangled with love’s grace

Could it be despair  that held me tight

in the wintry evening and the night

I could not see a way to  carry on

Everything  was wrong and I was done

I saw great blackness all around myself

I could not be restored, I had no health

I   had reached the end of seeking aid

God alone  knew all the coins were paid

  Inexplicable, the  golden light

That made a sweet shawl round me on that night

Impressing me with kindness and goodwill

Holding me until I had had my fill

Most sensuous, most tangled with love’s  grace

Surrounding me,  protecting my lost face

As if the arms of love were something real

That anyone  who knew this  must reveal

Only when we reach the very end

May the force of love on  us descend

i

 

May the force of love on  us descend

Love will need no trick

In my despair I felt that I was stuck
Paralysed by  grief and guilt I failed
By the end I had tried every trick

From prayer unthought to deeps of logic black
My  life, my engine ,juddered off the  rails
I hated God and of “his” Church was  sick

Starving  and alone I was in shock
The death of one I loved   had made me frail
By the end I had tried every trick


I felt  Love’s arms around me,  death was blocked
I knew   this goodness,  why else would I wail?
I   thought I hated God  but Love had struck

Warm and golden light  that  did me hold
Where are you now when Evil has grown bold?
Kind despair  that  made me long time sit
By the end I learned Love needs no trick

‘A different way of living’: why writers are celebrating middle-age

https://www.theguardian.com/books/2018/aug/11/viv-albertine-deborah-levy-rachel-cusk-divorce-menopause-midlife?CMP=Share_AndroidApp_Other

The pavement by Katherine

Oh, gentle Light

I ‘ll try to get it right just one more time
You did not converse with me in words
You were simply present with your Light

Nowhere did I feel your power and might
You were no eagle, but a little bird
I ‘ll try to get it right just one more time.

Who made our language with its subtle rhymes?
The ancient people  had their well trained Scribes
You were always there,oh gentle Light

You  gave me warmth, you  changed my too fixed sight
A comforter , a Spirit, how describe?
I ‘ll try to get it right a final time.

The agony inside me lost its bite
I wanted to go on, to be alive
You  do not always show your golden Light

We do not know  when we at last arrive
We do not reach this  meeting place by strife
I ‘ve tried to get it right this final time
I never saw such  Gold until that night

More from Keats’ letter

huttonroof2017-1

SpringFlowers2019

“It has been an old comparison for our urging on – the Beehive; however, it seems to me that we should rather be the flower than the Bee – for it is a false notion that more is gained by receiving more than giving – no, the receiver and the giver are equal in their benefits. The flower, I doubt not, receives a fair guerdon from the Bee – its leaves blush deeper in the next spring – and who shall say between man and woman which is the most delighted”

Limestone at Hutton Roof

Beetham Fairy Steps

I wish I were on Hutton Roof again
The limestone and the little open flowers
The sea at Arnside like a distant gem
The spaciousness, like days with far more hours

I wish I were as agile now as then
I’d climb the mountains, hills,the little lanes

Windermere below still winding on
The handsome Lake,the old man, Coniston

I wish I were in Dent, the curious shapes
The hills and their deep mystery engross
The height, the little river, the mistakes
The lost loved man alive, to hold me closeI

I yearn to be on Hutton Roof today
The holy smell of grass, the feel of air

I don’t want to do for a man

I don’t want to get married again

I don’t want to do for a man

Will he do for me?

Let’s wait and see

I am writing an ode to the sun

I don’t want to bury a man

Along will his cast iron pan.

Maybe I’m trans

Come be my friend

My social life is just a sham

The world in doubt

After world war II I can’t believe

The Russians want to fight for no good end

They skilful and they will deceive

Onto many endless darkness will descend

Even one life lost destroys a world.

Destroys the latent good that would have come

In every act and word these young men shared

There was a future life, will that be bombed?

Little children on the train gaze out.

The entire world and love are now in doubt

Defiance not compliance:turning the other cheek

https://www.cpj.ca/defiance-not-compliance-turning-other-cheek

“Wink goes on to examine the phrase “if anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also.” Why, Wink asks, does Jesus reference the right cheek specifically? The answer is both challenging and enlightening. Jesus lived in a right-handed world where left hands were reserved only for unclean tasks. Therefore, we can see assume that the person doing the hitting would have used their right hand. The only way to strike someone on the right cheek with your right hand is a backhanded slap. Such a blow connotes an insult, not a fistfight, and was a normal way to reprimand someone over whom you had power (e.g. masters to slaves, husbands to wives, Romans to Jews). To strike your equal in such a manner was socially and legally unacceptable, carrying with it a huge fine.

With this new understanding of the context Jesus was speaking in, picture the scenario with yourself as the oppressor. You are a wealthy, powerful person whose slave has displeased you in some way. You reprimand your slave with a backhanded slap. The response you expect is the response you have always received from your slaves – the response you yourself would give if someone higher than you treated you the same way. You expect your slave to cower, submit, and slink away. Instead, your slave defiantly turns their other cheek and challenges you to hit them again. What can you do?

You would like to give your slave another backhanded slap to show them their place, but to do that you would have to use your left hand which would admit that your action is unclean. You could hit them on their left cheek, instead, but it would be embarrassing to hit your slave the way you should hit your equal. You’re confused. You don’t know what to do. Flustered, you could order the slave be flogged, but the slave has already made their point. They have shown you that they are a human person with dignity and worth. You don’t own them, you cannot control them, and they do not submit to your rule.

And so, in light of Wink’s insights, Jesus’ instruction not to resist evil and to turn the other cheek transforms from an instruction to accept injustice into a challenge to resist systems of domination and oppression without the use of violence. Rather than ignoring an evil situation and hoping it will go away, Jesus is telling his followers to find creative, active, and nonviolent ways to assert their humanity and God’s love in the world.”

How music helps us

https://www.nytimes.com/2019/09/26/well/live/music-therapy-cancer.html

Ms. Caudill and I then went to a conference room to discuss music therapy with my husband, Don, and our friend Alexandra, who has engaged in music ministry. Music must be an especially effective form of therapy, Don supposed, because it directly expresses and creates emotions. Alexandra agreed. Singing in a choir for and with people impaired by dementia, she has witnessed elderly men and women who could not remember their own names recalling verbatim the words of beloved hymns.

“Music lights up neurons between the right and left hemispheres of the brain,” Ms. Caudill said. “It can also aid in neuroplasticity, helping the brain form new connections.” A stress reliever, music is used to recover speech, improve walking and assist in the retrieval of memories. Popular and classical melodies can be infinitely modified to meet various backgrounds and tastes.

[Read more about the use of music for mental health.]

Sometimes depressed patients are encouraged to compose new lyrics to a favorite song that can then convey their reactions to their condition. Ms. Caudill recorded a lymphoma patient singing her version of Shawn Mendes’s “In My Blood” and upon discharge gave her an MP3 of her new “anthem”: “Sometimes I feel I should give up, but I can’t. It isn’t in my blood.”

Oh,sweeter than the love of man

· 

Inside my mind I dream of pearls,
Caterpillars,snails with whorls.
I dream contented, all enwrapped;
With reverie and dream I’m lapped.
The inner seas will comfort me,
While gods refine my eyes to see

Oh,sweeter than confectionery
Is my Oxford diction’ry.
The words whirl round then fall to shape
The sentences which my world make.
This furnishing is rich and strange
And magically self arranged.

Oh,sweeter than the love of man
Is reading works of poets long gone;
Feeling deeply their dark tides
.Upon which our boat may glide.
The infinite sea we float upon
Is the same warm sea the ancients swam


Sweeter still is the spring air
And the blossom spreading fair
We’ll drown our selves in grassy fields
To the gods of poetry yield.


We’ll rise again and spring up tall
To grow more rich until we fall.
Then we’re compost for the worms
God enlighten these my poems

The heart of darkness

Indifference tolls the knell of humankind

So easy just to turn our eyes away

We often self deceive or mimic blind;

So Hitler goosestepped while w foolish Pope just prayed

How bright the candlelight on Christmas trees

And tender children widen joyous eyes

Yet for the other,we will hear no pleas.

At every heartbeat “foreign” babies die..

Can we love any but those with our name ?

what sense the story in which Arab aiding Jew?

Is the underlying truth not seen

As Jesus said the chosen are but few

We split the world into a double view

The good, the bad,the heart of darkness slew.

I’m lonely, just for you.

I didn’t know I’d love you
With both my heart and mind
Every love is different
Each is a special kind

I didn’t know I’d miss you
In quite the way I do.
For we can’t feel emotion
Before its time is due.

And are you missing me now
Despite angelic hosts?
They may care for you .my love

But I think I care the most.

Yet all human lovers
Must part and go their ways.
Some may die and fall to dust
Some may go astray.

I didn’t know I’d love you
And hurt invade my heart.
I didn’t know tm you’d love me.
But we would have to part.

From mother and her bosom
From father and his strength
We lose and gain throughout our life
Whatever is its length.

I didn’t know I’d miss you
With all my suffering heart.
But . as we’re made of fragile flesh.
Humans sadly part.

If you had been a sadist
If you had been unkind.
I would not now be grieving
And losing half my mind.

So I should be grateful
For being found and known.
I wish you were still sitting here.
And I were not alone.

When we feel so lonely
No-one else will do.
It’s not that I ‘m just lonely.
I’m lonely, just for you.

In the wet and stony
Pathways we must go
We must keep on walking;
Be patient when we’re slow.

The inner force is working
To make new maps for me.
Wherever they shall guide my steps,
With you I’ll long to be.