Earth's crammed with heaven ~ and every common bush afire with God... E.B.B.

Saturday, February 11, 2012

I wander around the expanse of this new space with it’s open walls,
not sure where to put a picture I have just unpacked and so glad to find.
I hold it here...and there. Other things needing my attention, I lean it
against the kitchen window and forget it there. 
Now it seems it's where it belongs and i love it. 
It’s hues evoke something peaceful and deep, soothing in me.
















There's an old calendar print on the back that was used when it was framed.
I’d seen it again in the unpacking, smiling (i love old things), and quickly forgotten.

Yesterday i walked outside and saw it there through the window.
How it caught my eye.















Somehow it touched me with it’s surprise of beauty.
Snowy mountains and blossoming meadows...a clear running stream and pale sky.
Surrounded by stained cardboard, tack nails and a twist of rusty wire.
Unprotected, it shows the wear and tear of time, beauty aged and sharpness softened. 
Some patches have been eaten away or torn; gone missing somehow.

This is not the backside of the print, like the weavings of a tapestry.
This is an entirely different scene, in the same frame, heretofore hidden.

Is it the landscape of things not chosen. 
The things we let take a back seat in our life;
The valley of ‘if only’.
The homeland we never dreamed possible
or if dreamed so, even then, just in bits and pieces.

Is it a glimpse into the high country, what we call the other side of life,
eternity here now (though mostly unseen or neglected),
it’s tattered state not worn through but just coming into view?
[Conor, I think now of you and ‘What Dreams May Come’]

Is it the magnificence of those who have backed me up,
been my mountain of strength, held me secure, let me shine.
Their own self-sacrifice shown in its rough edged paper frame,
which moves me to deep felt gratitude, prompts me to prayer.

Is it my own life, hidden away even to myself,
though not sadly or with regret, but given away
so as to make of my life a home for love.

I know...it’s just a page from an old calendar
in an old frame
of an old print.
like I said
(i love old things)

For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face:
now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.
- 1Corinthians 13:12

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