by Deanna Piercy
Too Soon…
by Deanna Piercy
Creating a beautiful life...
I’m happy for everyone who is so eager to embrace their favorite season. Truly, I am. And it’s not that I don’t like fall. Early autumn is quite lovely when the sun begins to lower in the sky and bathes everything in a golden glow. And I do look forward to those first few mildly cool and rainy days because there is little I like better than curling up under a quilt with a steaming cup of tea and a good book and that’s the best weather for it.
As you set out for Ithaka
hope the voyage is a long one,
full of adventure, full of discovery.
Laistrygonians and Cyclops,
angry Poseidon—don’t be afraid of them:
you’ll never find things like that on your way
as long as you keep your thoughts raised high,
as long as a rare excitement
stirs your spirit and your body.
Laistrygonians and Cyclops,
wild Poseidon—you won’t encounter them
unless you bring them along inside your soul,
unless your soul sets them up in front of you.
Hope the voyage is a long one.
May there be many a summer morning when,
with what pleasure, what joy,
you come into harbors seen for the first time;
may you stop at Phoenician trading stations
to buy fine things,
mother of pearl and coral, amber and ebony,
sensual perfume of every kind—
as many sensual perfumes as you can;
and may you visit many Egyptian cities
to gather stores of knowledge from their scholars.
Keep Ithaka always in your mind.
Arriving there is what you are destined for.
But do not hurry the journey at all.
Better if it lasts for years,
so you are old by the time you reach the island,
wealthy with all you have gained on the way,
not expecting Ithaka to make you rich.
Ithaka gave you the marvelous journey.
Without her you would not have set out.
She has nothing left to give you now.
And if you find her poor, Ithaka won’t have fooled you.
Wise as you will have become, so full of experience,
you will have understood by then what these Ithakas mean.
—Constantin Cavafy
April is Poetry Month and today is absolutely glorious. Enjoy!
To Spring by William Blake
O thou with dewy locks, who lookest down
Through the clear windows of the morning, turn
Thine angel eyes upon our western isle,
Which in full choir hails thy approach, O Spring!
The hills tell one another, and the listening
Valleys hear; all our longing eyes are turn’d
Up to thy bright pavilions: issue forth
And let thy holy feet visit our clime!
Come o’er the eastern hills, and let our winds
Kiss thy perfumèd garments; let us taste
Thy morn and evening breath; scatter thy pearls
Upon our lovesick land that mourns for thee.
O deck her forth with thy fair fingers; pour
Thy soft kisses on her bosom; and put
Thy golden crown upon her languish’d head,
Whose modest tresses are bound up for thee.
I wrote the following poem back in 2003 for my annual Christmas letter. It was inspired by our church’s beautiful, candlelight Christmas Eve services.
by
Deanna Piercy
Stars pierce the fabric of the night sky
and steeple lights point the way.
Wrapped snug in velvet and wool
we come in anticipation…
and hope.
Gossamer angels reflect His glory
in windows arched toward heaven.
As music rises like a prayer
we drink in the patina of holiness…
and peace.
Bells ring out, glad carols are sung
of mangers, kings, and shepherds.
With bread and wine, and “thanks be to God!”
we celebrate His gift with humbleness…
and joy.
We share the Light one by one
’til all are lit by His glow.
Voices joined in heavenly peace,
we gaze upon a cross of sacrifice…
and love.