Author: joethewaller

Professor Lewis

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It seems that you were always writing,
Always reading, always smoking,
Always sipping, and I think your
Cup was overflowing.

But the romance of such thinking
Overlooks the daily living,
Working, growing, and forgiving.
Yours was normal life.

As I gather inspiration,
I am struck by dedication.
Life for you was no vacation.
You knew joy and grief.

But turning to the pen, you taught us,
Told us tales of truth that caught us,
Brought us to the Son who sought us,
In humility.

So let me emulate your seeing,
Work into my words that being
That knows what it is becoming.
Let me love the King.

Photo by Dave Lowe on Unsplash

Write

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Good work is born of disciplined desire
And quiet moments staring at the page
With pen in hand, slow, stoking, till the fire
Begins to burn more steadily. The wage
Is for the workman. Work, then, holding fast
Through highs and lows of labor. There is fruit
That will outlive this age. The truth will last.
The sower’s scattered seed is taking root.
So start the process. Tell the story. Write,
And keep on writing till the final rest,
For though your work seems but a meager light
With meager warmth, yet souls will call it blessed
For helping to sustain them on their way
Through this long night to never-ending day.

Photo by Artem Maltsev on Unsplash

Day 25: Epoch

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For years, I wrote of learning how to walk,
Of following the Master of the waves,
Of choosing to obey instead of balk,
Of trusting in the God who loves and saves.
But I misdiagnosed anxiety,
Embracing fear as if it was the Lord.
I was a slave to scrupulosity.
My death was unto him but was untoward.
But light was shining though I could not see,
And love was better than I ever dreamed.
In time, he led me through and set me free,
And all that I had broken he redeemed.
I lost my hold but still was held by grace.
Through suffering, I better learned his face.

Photo by Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash

Form Friday: Poet’s Pick: Curtal Sonnet

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At Poet’s Corner, Hopkins has his place
Among the greats of English poetry,
A testament to mastery of form,
Near Auden, Carroll, Byron, and the face
Of Milton, shape of Shakespeare – symmetry
Of syllables from these still keep us warm.
And we, in fear and wonder, follow close
Their patterns and their pictures, for we see
Their work as strong safehouses in the storm.
They live in legend for they still engross,
Transform.