Fifth is a Funny word... And it Marks the Number of This Poem Response

A Prayer in Spring
-Robert Frost

Oh, give us pleasure in the flowers to-day;
And give us not to think so far away
As the uncertain harvest; keep us here
All simply in the springing of the year.

Oh, give us pleasure in the orchard white,
Like nothing else by day, like ghosts by night;
And make us happy in the happy bees,
The swarm dilating round the perfect trees.

And make us happy in the darting bird
That suddenly above the bees is heard,
The meteor that thrusts in with needle bill,
And off a blossom in mid air stands still.

For this is love and nothing else is love,
The which it is reserved for God above
To sanctify to what far ends He will,
But which it only needs that we fulfil.

Found at: http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-prayer-in-spring/

I like the first stanza the best… Asking God to simply allow us time to be in this moment, this time, rather than looking ahead to what could be a major problem. I feel like we do that a lot, we get to a good place and the minute everything is okay, we start worrying about what could go wrong around the next bend in the road. We spend all this time asking God for a "safe, good place" but whenever we find ourselves in one, we don't recognize it, because we're already too busy worrying about the next thing that we have no power over.

I don’t think we need to be naive, or pretend like problems will not exist in the future. But... I think there is a difference in living in the knowledge that things could go badly, and worrying about them going badly. Worry doesn't ever fix the situation, if anything, it causes it to become worse. Or at least, that's what I've seen... I could be wrong. But that’s just what I think.

But while we are in a state of, "The future could go wrong but may not", it's nice to just... enjoy the moment now. Because it is only our moment for a little while, and then it's the past. The future also doesn't get here, or look any different when it finally does get here, if we spend all  our time worrying. So, I think it is wise to ask God to allow us to enjoy the present, because I for one don't want to look back on my past and realize that all I did with it was worry about the future.

Thousand Chances

Thousand Chances

The words abide deeply within my heart

Held tenderly, where my mind alone can reach

Oh, if only you could hear them too

Uncountable phrases, meant for you

Silence fills the air- I long for it to be my words

Almost…but my lips have a different idea

Now, there I go, changing the subject again

Desperate for the time that’s already passed

Chance after chance has died at the hands of panic

How many more will I lose? I’ve had enough

A moment- this moment- ignoring my phobia

No longer holding it all in

Could this be happening? The ending could be so tragic

Everything’s on the line. I meet your gaze and…could it be?

Say the words back. Please. Say the words.

Starting out this poem, I wasn't quite sure what exactly I was writing about. The idea was simply that... whenever I have something serious to say to someone else, I usually miss a couple of PERFECT opportunities before I finally spit it out, because deep down... I'm a chicken. (I feel bad for chickens. They are so disrespected.) But in all honesty, it is sometimes just hard to say what my heart really wants to say! This type of poem is called a Double Mirror Acrostic, so we had to pick a phrase before we did any of the writing! I decided my phrase would by "Thousand Chances" because sometimes it feels like a thousand chances have gone by before I finally get around to saying what I really wanted to say. Now, look at the poem, notices that if you read the starting letter of each line, down, it spells "Thousand chances" :

T...

H...

O...

U...

S...

A...

N...

D..

C..

H..

A..

N...

C..

E..

S...

What's neat about a Double Mirror though, is that if you also look at the ending letters of each line, they spell the same thing! So, the first line starts and ends in the letter "T", the second line starts and ends with "H", the third lines starts and ends with “O”, and so on. Making this a fascinating and mildly difficult poem to write.

As I continued to pick phrases for the lines, a story started in my mind, and I decided to make this poem about that moment when someone finally lays their heart on the line and says those three special, little words that mean a world of change for any relationship... It was neat to write! And I hope you enjoyed it.

The Fourth Journal Response!

“Do You Have Any Advice For Those of Us Just Starting Out?"
-Ron Koertge

“Give up sitting dutifully at your desk. Leave
your house or apartment. Go out into the world.

It's all right to carry a notebook but a cheap
one is best, with pages the color of weak tea
and on the front a kitten or a space ship.

Avoid any enclosed space where more than
three people are wearing turtlenecks. Beware
any snow-covered chalet with deer tracks
across the muffled tennis courts.

Not surprisingly, libraries are a good place to write.
And the perfect place in a library is near an aisle
where a child a year or two old is playing as his
mother browses the ranks of the dead.

Often he will pull books from the bottom shelf.
The title, the author's name, the brooding photo
on the flap mean nothing. Red book on black, gray
book on brown, he builds a tower. And the higher
it gets, the wider he grins.

You who asked for advice, listen: When the tower
falls, be like that child. Laugh so loud everybody
in the world frowns and says, "Shhhh."

Then start again.”

Found at : http://www.loc.gov/poetry/180/007.html

This poem is a little awkward. It doesn't rhyme, (But I've come to find that a lot of poetry does not possess that quality) but I love the ideas in it! Especially the last stanza, about laughing when our tower falls. It appeals to me. And the part about the notebook-- I don't completely agree that it has to have a kitten or a spaceship on it, but pages the color of weak tea are most certainly the best.

To me, it sounds as if the writer is simply saying, "Love life. Experience it. Be ready to Learn. Don't fear failure. And enjoy the journey to standing back up again."

Which is a pretty great message, if you ask me.

Hopefully Me

Hopefully Me

The butterfly drifted along with the

Breeze. She is graceful, most beautiful

In her most natural form. Even

From a distance, one can see

She is lovely, unique

A special creature.

The expression

Of what I

Wish to

Be.

I  wrote this poem because... I love butterflies!

It's an odd attraction, but, what I meant in the poem by, "The expression of what I wish to be" is... What I see when I look at a butterfly is what I want people to see when they look at me.

Butterflies are graceful, which is something I'd love to be. I tend to be more along the lines of awkward and clumsy, or I feel that way anyway. But the idea of grace is something I'd love people to associate with me.

Most beautiful in their most natural form... When you think of a butterfly, or, when I think of one anyway, I think of it drifting from flower to flower on a bight sunny day. I think of it in the form which is its most natural! And I think that's where they're most beautiful-- drifting from flower to flower. And, you know in movies when the two people who are trying very hard to not fall in love have that moment where the guy looks at the girl, and it's almost like he sees her for the first time and he's... completely captivated! Because… she’s beautiful. Usually, the girl has dressed up, her hair is perfect, and she looks extra special. That works for some girls, because that... dressing up, looking that way... that's them! It isn't me. And I know you can't just say, "Yeah, well. I'm going to be the most beautiful when I'm barefooted, sitting cross legged in jeans and a tee shirt, laughing about something ridiculous." I know you can't make people think you're most beautiful when you're a certain way. But. I'd like to be seen as most beautiful when I'm just... being me...

And finally, when I look at a butterfly, they seem to be... special. I'd like to be the kind of person, the kind of Christian, where, when people don't even know me, they can look at me and say, "There is something special about her." I'd love to shine Jesus like that.... I really want to shine Him like that...

The Hall

The Hall

For

the first

time, my foot

pressed upon the

floor. It softly creaked

With the cry of stories

untold. Unspoken tales of

those who had first glided down this

hall. I was not the first. Gazing up

toward the slightly chipped wall, I wondered,

who they were, these firsts. Children growing a

little older with each step? Maybe

someone’s grandparents, still holding

hands after fifty years. They

all lived, whoever they

were, they lived, they all

breathed, loved and lost,

and walked down

this same

hall.

-Melissa Lynne Moody

I love the idea that most everywhere that I have been, someone else has been there too. There is so much life! Everywhere! And I just find that wonderful.

Although, in writing this poem, I honestly was at a loss for what to write about. Our assignment was to write a Double Etheree, (Just so you know, a regular Etheree is a 10 lined poem, and the syllable count follows the line count. So, the first line has 1 syllable, the second line has 2 syllables, the third line has 3 syllables, and so on. A Reversed Etheree is a Regular Etheree only… in reverse! So the first line has 10 syllables, the second line has 9 syllables, the third line has 8, and you get the idea. A Double Etheree is a 20 line poem that follows the structure of a Regular Etheree for the first 10 lines, and then follows the structure of a Reversed Etheree for the last 10 lines. And… now you know.)

 I was experiencing writer’s block of a most severe sort. I had NO idea what to write about! I was texting one of my friends, and I finally decided to use someone else’s creativity, so I asked them, “Give me a random noun? Please.” They replied with, “A hall.”. My first thought was, “That has got to be the oddest noun I have ever heard of in my entire life. Why?...” My thoughts were not very happy with the situation, and continued on, sounding something along the lines of, “Uhh… A hall… how do you write about a hall?... That’s such a dull thought…. They just stand there! ….Getting passed. All the time. By people…. So. Many. People. And they just.. Are! Watching! People just walking right on by... How many people must’ve walked through the hall of... of... a really old house? That’d be so cool to know…OH MY GOODNESS!!!! POEM! NOW!” And with that, along with a couple hours of work, this poem was born!

I also realized through writing this specific poem that I pretty much hate syllables… In a rather passionate way... in case if you were curious.

And Now For the Third Poem Response

The Greatest Artist

-Udiah (witness to Yah)

God is the Greatest Artist
To whom no one can compare,
Streaking sunsets very beautiful,
Painting rainbows in the air.

Brushing green the hillside scene,
Blotting blue the sky above,
Splashing flowers 'cross the ground beneath,
Shading white clouds with His glove.

Of the wonders God has made
There is none that is so fair
As the smile He paints upon your face
When you realize He's there.

Found at: http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-greatest-artist/

              Have you ever watched someone's face when they realize God really is there? Or watched them descibe a moment where God acted in their life, and they just don't have the words to express how amazing it was? If they're anything like me, they get excited about it! And that smile... It's a smile that comes from pure joy! They've seen Jesus!! It's a smile that comes from trying to describe an indescribable experience.
But, it's more than the smile... It's the eyes too. Something about those two features, our lips and our eyes... they tell our soul to the world. It's never just our eyes that tear up, it's also our lips which quaver just the slightest. It's never just our lips that laugh! But our eyes also are fixed on whatever the cause of laughter may be, squinting just the slightest, joy seeming to shine from them. When we lie about how we feel, usually we can fake it with our lips... smile when we're supposed to, maintain composure when it's appropriate, all those sorts of things. But our eyes tend to give it all away, at least, to the people who know us well.
           Isn't that amazing though? How two seperate features that look so totally different can work together to expess a single emotion. Emotions can't be felt by anyone on the outside, emotions can't be seen, thoughts can't be felt, these things only exist within the one experiencing them. But, through the beauty of facial expression, we can show one another what we alone can feel! Without words, without gestures, but simply by giving a look... and then they'll know...
          I've liked this poem for a good long while. Not because it's perfect-- Personally, I don't like a couple of the word placements, and the flow of the poem itself could be improved-- But the core of the poem is beautiful. That moment of realization that the God of the Universe has had His Hands in your life is a moment of true beauty. And God most certainly is the Greatest Artist....