even here

the desert comes alive in the half hours

when the world lies between

not asleep yet not quite awake

gone the sun that burns and blinds

instead a pale glow envelopes life

either welcoming or shaking off dreams

when the first blush of dawn

steals over hard, arid mountains

they transform to hills of hope

and the air shakes off the night--

cool, refreshing darkness--

to welcome the potential of a new day

or as the bookend to aurora

in the evening a similar transformation

as a hush draws a cloak over day

sometimes dotting the blank blue sky

with soft clouds harbouring dreams

and for two moments beauty reigns even here

funny, isn't it?

as i grow, i realize that when God speaks He uses a variety of mediums. it's like He's saying, "did you get it? I'm making it really obvious here." from words of friends to sermons to my own mouth to a random devotional book to movies, no medium is beyond His use. and so, in light of His clear reminder to me that bringing beauty from hard places is so important, i share my poor attempt at a psalm, written in church as directed from the stage.

O Lord how glorious You are to my dim eyes.

You created the shady streets I walk along that cheer my heart.

You provided me with friends like Suzanne who put up with my intensity.

Even though my attitude stinks and I despair of ever being happy You remind me that joy is found in worshipping You alone.

I remember how good You have been in providing me with finances and opportunities to travel.

Restore within me the heart of worship.

I love you hasta siempre.

selah

sestina

thought i'd share the poem my friends and i decided to challenge each other to write (i learnt a new form and not an easy one!). here's my attempt at a sestina.

Stanza 1

like a curtained backdrop sit the mountains

looming serenely with peculiar presence of mind

at their feet sprawl these crowded streets

where a soft wind rustles the lonely cypress trees

oblivious and with heads bend rush the people

serving greed, the insatiable master

Stanza 2

one and all who bow to this chameleonic master

be it money, fame or even the towering mountains

are not far removed from the pioneering people

who with prosperity on every mind,

even as they buried heartache ‘neath the trees,

saw down the long, misty passage golden streets

Stanza 3

hidden to the hopeful eyes there lurks on decaying streets

the dark side of chasing desire--now here master

trampling lives under old willow trees

But beyond a path winds up the mountains

where the smog cannot reach and clog the mind

perspective comes from above the tired people

Stanza 4

from on high a voice calls to the people

softly, potently it weaves its way down the streets

“Let Me in” echoes in each mind

and to each heart presents a new Master

One whose hands shaped these peaceful mountains

and who with grace grows each of the trees

Stanza 5

each frantic life is stretching up like trees

yet finding nothing chokes the soul of the people

equally blind to the Maker of the shrubby mountains

they ignore the voice calling in the streets

some sadly fail and misrepresent this strong Master

and so cause resentment in many a battered mind

Stanza 6

yet He who guards the heart guards the mind

knows the time for those dwelling under the trees

knows also the gnawing want they call master

and still longs to call them His people

that one day rejoicing will mark these streets

drowning out the cries from the rocky mountains

Tercet

the haze thickens around magnolia trees beside the mountains

dulling each mind to the unseen battle in the lazy wide streets

while each master contends for these unsuspecting people

daring

it's like a heartbeat

when you've run too hard

it pounds in your ear

i can barely hear

Where are You?

i come up for air sometimes

convincing myself all's well

all shall be well

and manner of things

but then the roar begins

Where are You?

and i gasp wondering

how i ended up here

Never doubt. Never

ever doubt He's working.

someday i'll see

Right here.

find You

breathe free

if i could live anywhere...

these would be the top 5 options (most likely):

willamette valley (preferably ptown area)

south ireland

new zealand

wales

southwest germany area

[if you have been to these places you might be sensing a pattern...]

cultural teleporting

i jumped from vienna--narrow, european streets, caucasians galore, high prices, cold weather, austere palaces

to dubai--super clean, arabs galore, camel's milk, wide open spaces, oases, moderate warmth, desert

to bangkok--tropical warmth, crowded city, street vendors hawking everything from live birds to fried bugs, signs for "blind masseuse", "turn left through" (left turn permitted without stopping), --> made out of fluorescent tube lights glued into the shape, and traffic that increases my prayer life (how you make a right turn/U-turn by inching out into oncoming traffic--and there's a lot of that--until the traffic has to stop or hit you and so you can go)

so much to absorb--next stop, australia!

no fun

the "new church" in delft is a towering architectural masterpiece, grey stones complete with buttresses. yet its ornate exterior belies an austere interior, as this once gaudy catholic church was stripped of its pretentious frivolities in the zeal of the protestant reformation. i felt a pang as i read how almost every grave marker had its intricate memorial artwork scrapped off and wondered why the reformation endeared itself to killjoys. now don't misunderstand me, i do prefer a simple place of worship to the idolatrous leanings of the average high church. yet it seems that the zeal to get rid of anything that might come between me and God can easily slip into the misapprehension that all things of light, laughter and levity are wrong. darkness and gloom, somber aspects are not the way of Godliness. reverence has its proper place, but joy should be the mark of a true Christian, not dour melancholy.