Stone Sailing

As ships of stone, the circle will be squared
Incarnate, rocks thrown down, blood spared

One day, as a thousand years sailing on wind
A corner stone, love kindles what time sends

Upon desert sands, human monuments remain
The circumference of God eternally maintains

Falling stars and heaven, a level of all to come
One rock upon the other, hypothetical tongues

Out of Egypt, the slavery of tribes and of kings
No gratitude remains, what hopelessness brings

A harvest moon of red, a sign of Christ to come
Civilizations know not hours, wisdom’s crumbs

Hypocrisy brewing in wind, a Mother’s drought
Barren minds with scepters, nations with doubts

Upon the root of measurement, humankind stands
Foundations of mystery, what eternity understands

As tombs of terra they stand, planted under heaven
What bread is to the body, only a universe leavens

Mystery is not founded in what heart’s will desire
Only in trials will we conceive what God inspired

“At the gate of our enemies, there is a door of rock.
It opens one heart to another, compassion it knocks.
Steadfast the wind that follows where God leads. It
will direct Earth’s children, casting Earth’s seeds.
In the shelter of our hands, God will be our wind.
Building bridges to heaven, to begin in Him again.”

Kathy Paysen 2013

Blowin' in the Wind

Dear Kathy,

I detect a slight sadness, almost a hint of bitterness, in this piece. Yet it speaks the truth, and is a fine poem, indeed. Unlike your usual scenic poetry, so full of beauty and carried along on melodic rhythm and rhyme, this more serious and somewhat sombre poem is akin to 'tough love'. I enjoyed it in the way that one soaks up a good sermon, rather than singing along to a song, so to speak. The couplets are superbly written, and it is an extremely well crafted piece of poetry. Once again your strengths as an educator shine through here.

I said an 'amen' in response to the line in your last couplet, "Only in trials will we conceive what God inspired". So true! My life is a good example of that. It is my trials that have become my greatest adventures, and my trials that have led me to where I am today, and for which I am so very thankful. The wind from God has blown me along on the path of His choosing, and as Bob Dylan sang, I have come to learn that 'the answers are blowing in the wind'. God bless.

Warmest regards,

Chris

Chip by Chip, Stone to Statue

Dear Chris,

I always loved the colorful rocks at the bottom of aquariums. They are just colored rocks, but they seem to have their own littles stories. The little castle in the aquariums churn bubbles, and the beautiful fish move in and out of the passages. It is amazing how peaceful an aquarium can be. This poem came from the little colored rocks that sit in me. Sometimes inanimate objects seem alive, like a stone skipping across a pond.

Summer brings a lot of memories, a lot of little colored rocks that like to splash and ponder the sky. Sometimes, I just sit and wait for my thoughts to give rise to bigger thoughts. It is funny how the sun always finds its way into our memories. I am sure you know the feeling I am talking about, it is the reason we write.

In many ways my poetry blog is like a diary of my thoughts, my seasons. I am not academic in my writing approach, I do not 'try' to have a style. I just dig my heart in and hope for the best. When I read my old poems, I often wonder where I was, how did I arrive into that passage way. To be honest with you, I believe my writing is my way of finding God and where I stand in this beautiful universe.

This poem was the product of my mind dwelling on Egypt's pyramids. I am perplexed by the way civilizations have told their God stories. The pyramids have such mystery. Afterall, the pyramids were designed to connect royalty with heaven. I am always trying to find heaven. My mind was trying to connect with the slaves, the people that built the pyramids, the common laborers. It seems that the ancient civilizations had more insight than we do ... Why is that?

Did you know that there are very large stones that move in the desert and leave a trail behind and no one knows how they moved? It seems the Spirit can move stone, massive stone.

A lot of the architecture in Washington D.C. was designed with Egyptian concepts. My mind was following the patterns of authority and laborers.

There is not a lot of substance, colorful imagery in this write because it was more like a mission to ponder the rocks of our domains. I sat and sat and dwelled upon rock upon rock upon rock. Inanimate rocks tell so many stories. To imagine that some pyramids were aligned with stars, blows my mind.

My heart identified with the stone cutters on this day. Imagine the task of cutting stones for the pyramids.

I am constantly seeking God and my heart cannot contain all the mystery that moves through our passages. I am not the fish, I am not the bubble castle. I am like the little colored rocks that float to the bottom of the fish tank. I move with the water and I stir the sand. I look up and see the sun shining down on me. I ponder the sun and every rock that is warmed by it.

I love your honesty and the fact that you know my writing and heart so well. You came to see the fish and the bubble castle and all you found was a bucket of colored rocks. Well, that bucket of rocks knows what time has carved and how much it takes to find the erosion in our thinking and our planning for tomorrow.

In the large rock is a God that is sculpting us, chip by chip.

I love you,

Kathy

Dallas, Texas

All The Colors of the Rainbow

Dear Kathy,

I think it's very appropriate that you use the colored stones at the bottom of an aquarium as a metaphor for yourself, for your soul is indeed bright and colorful, and your poetry too comes in many colors - all the colors of the rainbow. But my friend, I didn't come to see the fish or the bubble castle; I came simply to see you. And you never disappoint. Quite often these days, I see another side to you, another facet of your beautiful and endearing personality. You are a multi-faceted diamond, and you sparkle most brilliantly in the sunlight.

It's interesting finding out what inspired someone's poem. When I read that it was in fact the pyramids you were talking about, and perhaps also those large stones that move in the desert leaving trails behind them, I re-read your poem and saw almost a different piece of poetry altogether. Strange, isn't it? Our own perceptions and personal experiences color what we read and how we interpret things. My poetry comes from various sources - emotions, random thoughts, things I see and hear in nature, and so on. And yet, even when writing a poem, new ideas will crop up and change the structure of that piece as it is being written. Somebody reading the finished poem might never realize what inspired it originally unless they see an explanation in the comments section. Of course, sometimes it is plain and clear, but not always.

You said that your writing is a way of finding God - that you are constantly seeking Him. Well, I hope you realize that you found Him, for I often see God in you through your poetry. I love all your poetry, but I really admire the spirituality that appears in a lot of your poems - it's breathtaking. God is obviously working through you. And you asked why ancient cultures seemed to identify more with spiritual things, why they had more insight. Well, I think they had less distractions, to be honest. What else did they have to think about after dusk, when they only had candlelight to read by? There were no stereos or iPods to listen to, no computers, no TV to numb their minds, no nightclubs, no magazines and very few books, and even work was much more simple (hard physically, but not as complicated as our workplace environment today). Society today seems so very difficult to navigate, and there are so many technological devices and various activities to distract us from our thoughts on philosophy and God. There are numerous pressures on people. I am always reminded of that quote, "Be still and know that I am God."

It amazes me that even in the comments section, you are able to educate. I think history is fascinating, and I was intrigued to read that Egyptian concepts had such an influence on architecture in Washington. But of course that makes perfect sense when you see the pyramid on the American dollar bill, and the Washington National Monument, which is an obelisk, from Greek/Egyptian times. I read a lot about it also in the novel by Dan Brown, "The Lost Symbol". The storyline was good, not great, but the historical information contained within was wonderful to read (and not dry like in library texts). I often find your poetry and comments to be just as enlightening. The thing I like to see most in the comments section of my poems is your feedback - I miss it when it's not there. LOL. No comments section is complete without your response or input.

I look forward to reading and commenting on more of your poetry very soon. In the meantime, enjoy your week, take care, and best wishes. Love always,

Kind regards,

Chris xo

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