Poem: Five AM

Five AM

It is quiet,
not just outside where
the sun lies still beneath the mountains, and
the birds sleep, huddled

against the November cold,
where the wind has abandoned the night
and stars hover silently;
no, it is quiet

somewhere deep inside you,
where once your heart
railed and screamed against
Gods and fate, now


it is silent,
calm, and
strangely unafraid.


===================

The picture was taken at Emerald Lake, Vermont. You can click on it for a larger version.

Tom

Poem: Meditation in Saint Barts

Meditation in Saint Barts

Rain and snow fall outside,
and the city streets continue,
chaos as usual, commerce
and constant movement,

the daily dance
of an entire city,
of society hell bent
on their progress,

Unaware of the miracle
in their midst,
of the peace, so close,
yet invisible in front of their eyes.

-----------------------------------

Yesterday I shot some photographs at NFL headquarters for a client. After I was done, I noticed that next door to the NFL, which is on Park Avenue in New York City, was St. Barts. Rather than jump into my car and head home, I went to the church, and sat and listened to the organ master play. It was a time of peace and prayer, and coming back out was almost like an assault with all the noise and activity. And from that... this poem.

The picture was taken at St. Barts. You can click on it for a larger version. 

Tom

Poem: Serenity

Serenity

Serenity.
It comes
not
in the seeking;
not in the chasing,
but in the stillness
within,

a willingness
to release,
to empty,
to make room
within,

to open yourself
to the peace
that is not yours to take,
but God's
to give.

----------------------------

The picture was taken on Rupert Mountain, not far from my home. You can click on it for a larger version.

Tom

Poem: The Weather of the Soul

The Weather of the Soul

The weather is perfect.
The sun shines bright on the forsythia.
There is no wind,
and just enough clouds to punctuate
the beauty of the day.

It is still,
leaving you with a sense of timelessness,
of eternity piled high
like the rock wall in front of your house.

In your mind, you know
that this is just a moment,
but you choose to bask in the gift
of perfection, a reminder

that such times exist
more often than we think.

==============

The photograph was taken Saturday, down the road from me, at Consider Bardwell Farm. They make gormet cheeses there, each named after a local Vermont town. The cheeses have won all sorts of awards and are sold nationally, but also sold in a small farm store where I often stop to pick up a wedge for dinner. You can click on it for a larger version.

Tom

Poem: Sunset on Newport Beach

Sunset on Newport Beach

You walk the shoreline of a strange, rocky sea,
flotsam of storms and rocky coasts,
broken against the outlying outcroppings
of stone, half underneath the surface,
sure as sin, and just as deadly,

broken, but not destroyed, made instead
into something softer, like driftwood
or river stones, a thing of weatherworm beauty,
able to appreciate the peace of this moment

in a way others, less storm tossed, less broken,
can not.

==============

The picture was taken in Newport Beach, Rhode Island. You can click on it for a larger version.

Tom

Poem: Sensible Magic

Sensible Magic

There is a sensible magic
in a hand, soft, warm and smooth
inside your own;

in a cat's stillness as it waits
for your lap,

in a tender conversation,
late at night, revealing fears
and tenderness at just the right moment;

in comfort food, a warm cup of tea,
the heat of a stove as you pause
in the midst of cooking.

There is sensible magic
in the everyday, a gift, a pause,
a reminder

that all that seems so important
often is not,
and that it is these moments

that linger, indelible
in the heart's memory.

==============

The picture is of a cat I once belonged to. You can click on it for a larger version.

Tom

Poem: Valentine's Day

Valentines Day

The seas
are often stormy,
bitter,
cold,
harsh and unfair,
filled with pain,
filled with fear,
overwheming
in the night,
in not knowing
whether,
in the dark hours
you are being cast
upon the rocks,
or sent to an endless see
of nothingness.
There is no escaping
these storms. Wherever
you flee
they will follow,
in different form perhaps,
tornadoes or blizzards,
earthquakes and fires,
they follow us like air,
and so these brief moments
of peace,
with you held close,
when the sun shines warm in the afternoon,
are precious,
fuel for the battered soul.

===========

The picture was taken near Newport, Rhode Island. You can click on it for a larger version.

Tom

Poem: True Weather

True Weather

The weather outside changes,
made fickle by the mountains and winds,
storms one minute,
peace and sun the next,
a puzzle of uncertainty,
unpredictable
with it's anger and joy.

But here in the sanctuary
of your soul,
all is peace,
a focus not on the world,
but the silence
that sings to God each morning
and is cradled by him
each night.

============

The picture was taken at a house in Washington Country, New York. You can click on it for a larger version.

Tom

Poem: A Guide to the Overwhelmed

A Guide to the Overwhelmed

Stop.
Find a flower, a single bloom.
Focus on it.
See it's amazing colors,
it's texture.

Touch it.
Breath it,
the soft perfume of a summer's afternoon.

Take your time,
for the flower will die
in a day or few
and this moment is all you have,
your one opportunity
to drink in God's gift of perfection,
to enjoy the very moment of glory it was created for.

Look at it's leaves,
rich, green, perfect cappillaries
bring life and beauty
from the earth, rain and sun
to the blossom you hold gently in your hand.

Months, years even have gone into this moment,
from seed, to this crescendo of color,
seasons of death, of cold and rebirth.

And after it's death?
More seeds. More Life. More beauty.
Life renewed,

a life full of such moments.
A sunrise.
The crisp taste of apple pie on the tongue.
The tenderest touch of a lover.

All reborn like the flower,
sure as love,
sure as your own glorious beauty.

So waste not the moments.
Let them fill you,
and push aside your troubles.
If only for now,
find peace.

=====================

The title was blatantly stolen from one of the links I love, Think Simple Now. I saw the title and dropped everything. I just KNEW there was a poem in there. Only later did I actually read the post. It's well worth reading, less lyrical, but probably more useful to the overwhelmed than my verse.

The picture was taken in Dorset, Vermont last weekend. In a greenhouse of course, since winter's still dancing around those parts. You can click on it for a larger version.

Tom

Poem: Stillness

Stillness

Stillness.
You can find it even here,
in the city,
in the early hours,
a place where time stops,
God lives,
and peace, if you allow it,
reigns.

Stillness,
you can find it even here,
in the midst of the chaos
that is your life,
a place where time stops,
God lives,
and peace, if you allow it,
reigns.

============

The picture was taken in Durkeetown, NY. You can click on it for a larger version.

Poem: Slowing Down to Anywhere

Slowing Down to Anywhere

After three conference calls at seventy miles an hour
down a stretch of interstate 81, the phone grows quiet
and your mind, too active for it's own good,
hungers for peace, so

you take the next exit, not reading the sign, not caring
where the winding road takes you, grateful
to be slowing down to anywhere, until

you reach the river, snow-silent and perfect,
and you park, and walk, and listen, a diversion
that restores your soul, a reminder

that life is not action, but this,
opening yourself to what is real,
slow, and Godly.

=============

The picture was taken this afternoon on my drive to Washington, DC, somewhere near Mount Jackson, Virginia. You can click on it for a larger version.

Tom

Poem: Peace

Peace

It comes from within,
not bought, or done, or accomplished,
but in stillness,
in that place where there is nothing to prove,
nothing needed,
where it is enough to take to heart
the truest words of God:
I Am.

====

Since 2006 Bloggers around the world have all written their entries around the idea of peace under the banner of Blog Blast for Peace. I have taken part since that first blog blast. If you are interested in reading others and learning more, go here.

Tom

Poem: Calm Seas

Calm Seas

You have seen the picture on a hundred walls,
the boat full of huddled fishermen,
waves and wind and rain
tearing the sea around them,
their faces full of fear,
distorted with the sureness
of the nearness of death,

but there, in the distance, Christ,
a soft light around him,
walking towards them,
his feet light above the water.
All about him the waves tower,
the storm rages.

Disregard the lighted figure,
and look at the sea
beneath his feet.
It is calm. Placid and peaceful,
a thing totally other
than what swirls around the frightened fishermen.

You know the story.
He will soon calm their own seas,
and they will row their way to the sureness of shore,
proving that it is not the weather
that brings wildness or peace,
but who joins the journey with you.

=============

The photograph was taken at Mystic Seaport, CT. You can click on it for a larger version.

Tom

Poem: A Place of Peace

A Place of Peace

A single wood duck swims with her children
over rippled water, dappled with light,
past the spreading roots of ancient cypress,
the water reflecting the bright sky

and the forest that surrounds you.
Wind rustles through the trees,
and water dances over the rugged beaver dam.
A bass jumps and splashes far in the distance

as you sit an a rough hewn bench
in front of the log cabin
your father and grandfather built before you were born.

This is your place of peace,
where the world does not reach,
where your soul dances with God
no matter the weather of your life.

Here you are reminded that beauty and joy persist
for those who slow down, who stop
and listen,

who can look past the post card scenery and linger long enough
to hear Gods truest song, and learn that he is there
waiting,

waiting to enfold you
with his loving embrace,
forever.

=================

The picture is from an old mill pond far back in the woods on what used to be my Grandfather's farm in Surry County. It is my own personal "place of peace". You may click on it for a larger version.

Poem: Gardens of the Heart

Gardens of the Heart

Lush. Green. Silent.
A private place,
not of crowds or talk,
but of silence and listening,
where the heart may speak,
unafraid;

A place so rare, so desired,
that your heart cries for it; and
your nights are filled with dreams
of it's existence,
and it's power to remind you,
that you exist,

that you matter,
to more than yourself,
that your heart is a thing
worth listening to,
more tender than believed,
and more strong.

===========

The picture was taken at Winterthur, in Delaware, in an pine tree garden below the house. The day I took it, the house was busy, but this spot was as quiet and peaceful as it appears, and invited quiet contemplation. You may click on it for a larger version.

Tom

Poem: Otter Creek

Otter Creek
from 1st Thessalonians 5:16

It is hot and you sweat,
walking across high fields,
through ancient gardens,
and up strange mountains,
restless with energy,
walking further
than your old legs wish to walk,
past the familiar,
to the small pond,
quiet and still,
at creek's end,

where you take off your shoes,
and dip your feet in the icy water,
lay back on the grass,
and rest.

What have you to show for this long afternoon?
Three pictures.

A garden with a broken brick wall.
Vivid green ivy on bricks.
A single flower.

And rest.

A good afternoon's work, you realize.
A fine reward for exhaustion,
worth even,
the slow walk back.

=================

Yesterday I went for a long walk, first visiting Poplar Forest, then walking up past Peaks of Otter to Otter Creek. I actually took over a hundred pictures, but it was worth the walk to get the three I show here. You can click on them for a larger version.

Tom

Poem: Psalm 23

Psalm 23

David was right.
As he sat at his table
surrounded by enemies
in the midst of dark death
and utter hopelessness,

he did not despair
but wrote poetry,
verses of grace and love
and God's own presence
and in the process

renewed generations of hearts
even as he saved his own.

======================

There are a lot of things that got me through the past few years of troubles, and one of the biggest was poetry - always an outlet for the heart. When reading Psalm 23, I came to understand that while David was probably writing to get his heart out, he was also helping others in their own paths to healing and hope, and so... this poem.

The picture is of a sunrise outside my front door. You can click on it to see a larger version.

Tom