A poem for the fourth Sunday of Advent 2021

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Early. An hour before sunrise. Coffee and poems at the kitchen counter. All the apartment was asleep. I read: “Fyre, erd, air, and watter cleir,/To Him gife loving, most and lest,/That come into so meik maneir;/Et nobis puer natus est.”

I love old things. Ancient verse among my favorite. These lines from William Dunbar’s poem “On the Nativity of Christ”[1] take a bit of reading and rereading to unpack the Scottish and Latin lines. And the poem “Veni, Creator Spiritus”[2] by John Dryden features the lines: “And peace, the fruit of love, bestow;/And, lest our feet should step astray,/Protect, and guide us in the way.”

What poem best fits the fourth Sunday of advent? The angels announced that the promised Messiah had come to bring peace.

Distracted. For many minutes I was distracted by a web site with images of famous paintings[3] of the adoration of the shepherds. Maybe it was an hour of distraction. I was frying eggs and toasting bread while looking at the paintings. William Blake’s illustration of Milton’s work[4] is omitted from the collection. His imagination of a brilliant ball of angels in the sky above shepherds[5] remained with me.

Then there was an explosion of household morning activities and responsibilities.

It was not until after the noon meal that my thoughts returned to this meditation. The fourth Sunday of Advent. Peace. The priest mentioned in the sermon that there is a liturgy of life we all participate in daily. He encouraged us to ditch the device and be present. Presence. That reminded me of the following poem by Denise Levertov.

Making Peace
by Denise Levertov

A voice from the dark called out,
             ‘The poets must give us
imagination of peace, to oust the intense, familiar
imagination of disaster. Peace, not only
the absence of war.’
                                   But peace, like a poem,
is not there ahead of itself,
can’t be imagined before it is made,
can’t be known except
in the words of its making,
grammar of justice,
syntax of mutual aid.
                                       A feeling towards it,
dimly sensing a rhythm, is all we have
until we begin to utter its metaphors,
learning them as we speak.
                                              A line of peace might appear
if we restructured the sentence our lives are making,
revoked its reaffirmation of profit and power,
questioned our needs, allowed
long pauses . . .
                        A cadence of peace might balance its weight
on that different fulcrum; peace, a presence,
an energy field more intense than war,
might pulse then,
stanza by stanza into the world,
each act of living
one of its words, each word
a vibration of light—facets
of the forming crystal.

NOTES:
[1] This is a helpful blog post and video to help appreciate Dunbar’s poem. “On the Nativity of Christ. A poem by William Dunbar” by Celtic Cadences, June 7, 2009. Accessed December 19, 2021. https://celticcadences.wordpress.com/2009/06/07/on-the-nativity-of-christ-a-poem-by-william-dunbar-court-poet-james-4th-iv-scotland/
[2] “Veni Creator Spiritus” by John Dryden. Accessed December 19, 2021. https://www.bartleby.com/337/580.html
[3] “10 Most Famous Adoration of the Shepherds Paintings” by Zuzanna Stanska, December 25, 2017. Accessed December 19, 2021. https://www.dailyartmagazine.com/famous-adoration-of-the-shepherds-paintings/
[4] From John Milton’s poem: “At last surrounds their sight/A globe of circular light,/That with long beams the shame-fac’d Night array’d;/The helmed Cherubim/And sworded Seraphim/Are seen in glittering ranks with wings display’d,…” “On the Morning of Christ’s Nativity” by John Milton. Accessed December 19, 2021. https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/44735/on-the-morning-of-christs-nativity
[5] Illustration 2 to Milton’s “On the Morning of Christ’s Nativity”: The Annunciation to the Shepherds from the Huntington Library, Art Museum, and Botanical Gardens. Accessed December 19, 2021. https://emuseum.huntington.org/objects/64/illustration-2-to-miltons-on-the-morning-of-christs-nativ

A poem for the third Sunday of Advent 2021

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An ink study of Viktor Paul Mohn’s illustration

Glad for weariness? The idea that things would slow down last week was an illusion I tried to maintain. My desire was to avoid the hectic and dwell deeply during this Advent season. But the pace of projects at work and helping neighbors and family with medical appointments propelled me and my household through the week.

So, my thoughts remained on the themes of the second week of Advent. Though it is now Gaudete Sunday. The annunciation continues to capture my attention.

In Bernard of Clairvaux’s “Annunciation Dialogue,” he considered the gospel of Luke account. “Be it unto me according to your word,” said Mary. There is wonder, mystery, and humility in the story that I can not escape.

From a sea of fractured thoughts, I washed ashore from the shipwreck of last week. I drew a quick ink study of Viktor Paul Mohn’s no room illustration. The plan was to post the drawing, a thought, and a poem. But the thought and poem disappeared. The notes I left myself read:

  • Shepherd’s Candle
  • rose or pink
  • shepherds rejoice at the announcement from the angels
  • joy and rejoicing

Though the drawing above does not match the following poem, I am reminded of what Fr. Olsen shared to congregants this weekend. From the gospel of Luke, he said, that people were in expectation. The annunciation may have been a secret to all but a few, but there was an unexplained expectation in the hearts and minds of people.

The Shepherd’s Song

by Georg Johannes Gick

I am the shepherd’s song, I sing
here in the stable’s shadow,
and all men come; like lambs I bring
them to the Christmas meadow.

I call them through the winter night,
lost out there in the bitter cold;
Oh come and see how love is bright
in the Good Shepherd’s fold!

If there should come some weary one
still late at night that I could bless,
I’ll be content my singing’s done
and glad for weariness.

A poem for the second Sunday of Advent 2021

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An ink study of Fra Angelico’s The Annunciation

On a note card is written thoughts and themes about the second week of Advent.

  • Love
  • Faith
  • Bethlehem
  • purple candle
  • the prophet, Micah, foretold the birthplace in Bethlehem
  • the city of David
  • preparation for the king

My desire was to compose some meaningful prose to mark the celebration.

But, very early this morning, I watched sleet turn to snow and then to rain. My mind drifted in this irrational season. Eventually, I put the pen down, stuffed the notecard in my pocket and went for a long walk with a friend and brother. This poem by Madeleine L’Engle seems most appropriate for this second week.

After Annunciation

Madeleine L’Engle

This is the irrational season
when love blooms bright and wild.
Had Mary been filled with reason
there’d have been no room for the child.

A poem for the first Sunday of Advent 2021

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The youngest child asked, “Why is the candle purple?”

I lit the first candle of the Advent wreath as we gathered around the dining table and prepared to celebrate the first Sunday of Advent.

It is called the “prophets candle” and it is purple to represent royalty, I said. The first candle reminds us of the hope God’s people had that a King was promised.

How does it do that? the child asked.

Let’s read and find out.

We read passages from the prophet Isaiah and the gospel of Luke.

After the first Sunday of Advent celebration, my tired mind tried to find a suitable poem. Thankfully, I had set aside a half dozen poems for consideration last year. This Sabbath poem from Wendell Berry seems to fit with the theme of the prophets candle.

Sabbath Poem VII

Wendell Berry

The clearing rests in song and shade.
It is a creature made
By old light held in soil and leaf,
By human joy and grief,
By human work,
Fidelity of sight and stroke,
By rain, by water on
The parent stone.
We join our work to Heaven’s gift,
Our hope to what is left,
That field and woods at last agree
In an economy
Of widest worth.
High Heaven’s Kingdom come on earth.
Imagine Paradise.
O Dust, arise!

What do you see in this photo?

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Originally posted on Coffeehouse Junkie:
Foggy morning. Downtown Asheville.

Designed for cultural events

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The morning was cool for July. The dew point moderate. Not too humid. The sun had risen an hour before my wife and I drove through the countryside to meet a friend for breakfast and coffee. Wildflowers of purple and white filled the ditches along the roadside. The windows of the motor vehicle rolled down just a bit to catch the rush of air and scent of summer.

At the cafe, we enjoyed our morning meal and coffee. I brought an old sketchbook and some Pitt Artist Pens to practice dormant skills during the after-meal conversation. My confidence in these abilities has deteriorated as more and more my job demands extensive screen time. The computer screen, keyboard, and trackpad create a distance between the art and the art maker — between the graphic and the graphic designer. My concern is that of atrophy. Will my mind and body remember how to sketch the lip of a glass? Was this a false concern? Maybe. Maybe not.

Steven Heller wrote of the Polish designer Trepkowski that his posters were “designed for cultural events” and did not depend on weekly sales goals or production reports. The brush of the Pitt Artist Pen handled the curve of the coffee mug and quick short strokes of a plate’s shadow. This ink drawing captured a small cultural event. A meal among friends on a summer morning.

Why wake up before sunrise?

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Why wake up at 4:30 a.m.? For a moment like this. A sliver of the moon is barely visible in the pre-dawn hour. Within 45 minutes she will no longer be seen. The sky will be too bright–even at 5:30 a.m. It is not quiet–like some people may think. Birds chirp in choruses deep in the shadows of shrubs and trees. And because it has been so hot recently, the loud buzz and hum of air conditioning units in the apartment complex going on and off at intervals punctuates the hour. Despite the audible sounds, there is a silence that allows the mind, body, and spirit some time to focus before the clatter and clutter of the day disrupt attention.

Independence Day parade 2021

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Fourth of July parades in small town America reflect a cross section of a nation. Antique tractors, classic automobiles, fire engines, floats and flatbeds, and horses and riders all pass by crowds of Catholics, Protestants, and Sikhs. United we stand along a two-lane country highway under a blazing hot sun to cheer and wave at family, friends, and neighbors in our community.

What were you reading ten years ago?

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Ten years ago I published this photo of a nightstand stack of books. I looked at the photo and wondered what changes occurred in my reading habits or tastes during the last ten years. Then I asked, what is on my desk today? After some thought, I wrote a blog post. Or rather an essay regarding my observation. But it was long.

I did not publish the post. Instead, I merged the photos together for comparison. Pictures are worth a thousand words. In this case, two thousand words. And this post will only take a minute to read, rather than 15 to 20 minutes.

Morning fog

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Ten years ago today I had no idea that this image — captured during a morning jog — marked the end of one era and the beginning of another. When I look at this image I remember when I took the photo, what I was thinking, where I was, who I needed to talk to, and why. Everything seemed to change that week.