The Hound of Heaven-Francis Thompson
I fled Him, down the nights and down the days;
I fled Him, down the arches of the years;
I fled Him, down the labyrinthine ways
Of my own mind; and in the mist of tears
I hid from Him, and under running laughter.
Up vistaed hopes I sped;
And shot, precipitated,
Adown Titanic glooms of chasmèd fears,
From those strong Feet that followed, followed after.
But with unhurrying chase,
And unperturbèd pace,
Deliberate speed, majestic instancy,
They beat -- and a voice beat
More instant than the Feet --
"All things betray thee, who betrayest Me."
I pleaded, outlaw-wise,
By many a hearted casement, curtained red,
Trellised with intertwining charities;
(For, though I knew His love Who followèd,
Yet was I sore adread
Lest, having Him, I must have naught beside.)
But, if one little casement parted wide,
The gust of his approach would clash it to :
Fear wist not to evade, as Love wist to pursue.
Across the margent of the world I fled,
And troubled the gold gateways of the stars,
Smiting for shelter on their clangèd bars ;
Fretted to dulcet jars
And silvern chatter the pale ports o' the moon.
I said to Dawn : Be sudden -- to Eve : Be soon ;
With thy young skiey blossoms heap me over
From this tremendous Lover--
Float thy vague veil about me, lest He see !
I tempted all His servitors, but to find
My own betrayal in their constancy,
In faith to Him their fickleness to me,
Their traitorous trueness, and their loyal deceit.
To all swift things for swiftness did I sue ;
Clung to the whistling mane of every wind.
But whether they swept, smoothly fleet,
The long savannahs of the blue ;
Or whether, Thunder-driven,
They clanged his chariot 'thwart a heaven,
Plashy with flying lightnings round the spurn o' their feet :--
Fear wist not to evade as Love wist to pursue.
Still with unhurrying chase,
And unperturbèd pace,
Deliberate speed, majestic instancy,
Came on the following Feet,
And a Voice above their beat--
"Naught shelters thee, who wilt not shelter Me."
I sought no more that after which I strayed,
In face of man or maid ;
But still within the little children's eyes
Seems something, something that replies,
They at least are for me, surely for me !
I turned me to them very wistfully ;
But just as their young eyes grew sudden fair
With dawning answers there,
Their angel plucked them from me by the hair.
"Come then, ye other children, Nature's -- share
With me" (said I) "your delicate fellowship ;
Let me greet you lip to lip,
Let me twine with you caresses,
Wantoning
With our Lady-Mother's vagrant tresses,
Banqueting
With her in her wind-walled palace,
Underneath her azured daïs,
Quaffing, as your taintless way is,
From a chalice
Lucent-weeping out of the dayspring."
So it was done :
I in their delicate fellowship was one --
Drew the bolt of Nature's secrecies.
I knew all the swift importings
On the wilful face of skies ;
I knew how the clouds arise
Spumèd of the wild sea-snortings ;
All that's born or dies
Rose and drooped with ; made them shapers
Of mine own moods, or wailful or divine ;
With them joyed and was bereaven.
I was heavy with the even,
When she lit her glimmering tapers
Round the day's dead sanctities.
I laughed in the morning's eyes.
I triumphed and I saddened with all weather,
Heaven and I wept together,
And its sweet tears were salt with mortal mine ;
Against the red throb of its sunset-heart
I laid my own to beat,
And share commingling heat ;
But not by that, by that, was eased my human smart.
In vain my tears were wet on Heaven's grey cheek.
For ah ! we know not what each other says,
These things and I ; in sound I speak--
Their sound is but their stir, they speak by silences.
Nature, poor stepdame, cannot slake my drouth ;
Let her, if she would owe me,
Drop yon blue bosom-veil of sky, and show me
The breasts o' her tenderness ;
Never did any milk of hers once bless
My thirsting mouth.
Nigh and nigh draws the chase,
With unperturbèd pace,
Deliberate speed, majestic instancy ;
And past those noisèd Feet
A Voice comes yet more fleet --
"Lo ! naught contents thee, who content'st not Me."
Naked I wait thy Love's uplifted stroke !
My harness piece by piece Thou hast hewn from me,
And smitten me to my knee ;
I am defenceless utterly.
I slept, methinks, and woke,
And, slowly gazing, find me stripped in sleep.
In the rash lustihead of my young powers,
I shook the pillaring hours
And pulled my life upon me ; grimed with smears,
I stand amid the dust o' the mounded years --
My mangled youth lies dead beneath the heap.
My days have crackled and gone up in smoke,
Have puffed and burst as sun-starts on a stream.
Yea, faileth now even dream
The dreamer, and the lute the lutanist ;
Even the linked fantasies, in whose blossomy twist
I swung the earth a trinket at my wrist,
Are yielding ; cords of all too weak account
For earth with heavy griefs so overplussed.
Ah ! is Thy love indeed
A weed, albeit an amaranthine weed,
Suffering no flowers except its own to mount ?
Ah ! must --
Designer infinite !--
Ah ! must Thou char the wood ere Thou canst limn with it ?
My freshness spent its wavering shower i' the dust ;
And now my heart is as a broken fount,
Wherein tear-drippings stagnate, spilt down ever
From the dank thoughts that shiver
Upon the sighful branches of my mind.
Such is ; what is to be ?
The pulp so bitter, how shall taste the rind ?
I dimly guess what Time in mists confounds ;
Yet ever and anon a trumpet sounds
From the hid battlements of Eternity ;
Those shaken mists a space unsettle, then
Round the half-glimpsed turrets slowly wash again.
But not ere him who summoneth
I first have seen, enwound
With glooming robes purpureal, cypress-crowned ;
His name I know, and what his trumpet saith.
Whether man's heart or life it be which yields
Thee harvest, must Thy harvest-fields
Be dunged with rotten death ?
Now of that long pursuit
Comes on at hand the bruit ;
That Voice is round me like a bursting sea :
"And is thy earth so marred,
Shattered in shard on shard ?
Lo, all things fly thee, for thou fliest me !
"Strange, piteous, futile thing !
Wherefore should any set thee love apart ?
Seeing none but I makes much of naught" (He said),
"And human love needs human meriting :
How hast thou merited --
Of all man's clotted clay the dingiest clot ?
Alack, thou knowest not
How little worthy of any love thou art !
Whom wilt thou find to love ignoble thee,
Save Me, save only Me ?
All which I took from thee I did but take,
Not for thy harms,
But just that thou might'st seek it in My arms.
All which thy child's mistake
Fancies as lost, I have stored for thee at home :
Rise, clasp My hand, and come !"
Halts by me that footfall :
Is my gloom, after all,
Shade of His hand, outstretched caressingly ?
"Ah, fondest, blindest, weakest,
I am He Whom thou seekest !
Thou dravest love from thee, who dravest me."


*smile* thank You, oh Hound of heaven

http://donghaeng.net/index-e.htm

hehe had this in my previous blog..but abby darling reminded me of it again..here's one that made me cry..about our duty to God :)

http://www.donghaeng.net/english/duty/duty.swf

Wide brimmed hats

Did i ever mention a certain fascination for wide-brimmed hats?(heh i know, i'm fascinated by everything)

Or rather, cream coloured wide-brimmed hats with a long satin ribbon hanging lazily over its rim..

:) just..wide brimmed hats i guess.

Shrouding the face in an air of delicate and classic graceful mystery..it reeks of Old Paris cafes, painting filled gallerias and cobbled streets..willowed trees swaying in the warm summer breeze as the morning sun twinkles michievously upon the flowing stream..

Hee always wanted to join renowned artists in their oil painting frenzies..to at least have a painting of a lady (or a few ladies) wearing wide brimmed hats featured in classic gardens of England..or by the stream..just anywhere :) Haha and it be best if they wear long flowy dresses too..or summer dresses...

*gRINz* So yes..i guess that explained why my attention (whilst poring over patent ductus arteriosus and tetralogy of fallot -s) was drawn away by a slim figure who stepped into Coffee Bean today..yupsh, wearing a wide brimmed hat(a rather rare sight in tropical casual Singapore. And then my hand seemingly found a mechanical pencil..an A4 sized paper..and started to sketch the lady who just may be the object of satisfying an old but long buried want. If it seemed insufficient..heh here's a description(to call it a poem would do disservice to the multitudes of poets) by a rusty me that went alongside her portrait..bleah.It sounds childish on second thought, haha but i guess i may throw it away ultimately, so here it is for the record..

"She adorns a beige wide-brimmed hat,
Hair tied back in a loose ponytail,
Tanned skin cast in a warm and soft orange glow.
Her left elbow gently leans
Upon a wooden table bathed in hues of brown.
Still she sits, by the wall,
A picture of wavering resolution encircling her presence,
Myriad upon myriad of coffee odours
Lingering and luring her back into
Her task at hand.
She gazes hesitantly at the parchment on the table
Slender fingers twirling her pen.
What shall she write?
Of what should she profess?
Then she shifts to the edge of her seat,
And resumes her posture of admirable extent.
Words upon words flying off the page in a frenzy,
Hand struggling to keep up
With the fervour of the writer's mind.
Her hat is tilted in an angle
To reveal nothing but her chin that moves
In accordance with the silent mouthing
Of the duet between heart and mind
Then she pauses, looks up in quiet repose,
Eases her sandal to lean upon the base of the table
Before taking a slow sip of her carefully ordered latte.
A sweeping glance she gives
Is all she reveals about her acceptance
Of the world that continues revolving around her..
Then she coaxes herself back into oblivion,
Continuing to write..
That message
Meant for the eyes of only one other."

Oh wells! :) haha that was as much as i could muster in 15 minutes..

West mall coffee bean is interesting though :) Haha! But! Another account for another day! *bEAMs* I shall paint such a lady(s) one day!

Hee and yup, i guess reality is different from portrayal..She was indeed older than i had thought, oriental features that would have actually fit the role of Miss Saigon perfectly if talent scouted 20 years back..wore black track pants plus a matching coloured sleeveles shirt..and sporting sandals to fitl..Heh! :) But a pretty sight to jolt the imagination anyways..on a lazy afternoon.

Haha tis really fun to do peeps watching..(Evan!! Bring me along one day!)although i really sound like i'm supa free when i shouldn't be..

And that about sums how easily distracted i am. Bleah!

Oh diffuse into my consciousness, my notes and knowledge awaiting me..

A Holy Love

*sMILe* this story made me cry. Rarr.

Writes a surgeon:

I stand by the bed where a young woman lies, her face postoperative, her mouth twisted in palsy,clownish. A tiny twig of the facial nerve, the one to the muscles of her mouth, has been severed. She will be thus from now on. The surgeon has followed with religious fervour the cruve of her flesh; I promise you that. Nevertheless, to remove the tumour in her cheek, I had to cut the little nerve.

Her young husband is in the room He stands on the opposite side of the bed, and together they seem to dwell in the evening lamplight, isolated from me, private. Who are they, I ask myself, he and this wry-mouth I have made, who gaze at and touch each other so generously, greedily?
The young woman speaks.

"Will my mouth always be like this?" she asks.
"Yes," I say,"it will. It is because the nerve was cut."

She nods and is silent. But the young man smiles. "I like it," he says. "It is kind of cute."

All at once I know who he is. I understand, and I lower my gaze. One is not bold in an encounter with a God. Unmindful, he bends to kiss her crooked mouth, and I so close can see how he twists his own lips to accomodate hers, to show her that their kiss still works.

Dr Richard Selzer, Mortal Lessons

*sniffles* need i say more? A holy love, indeed. And much sought after :)

lovely poem

Hee...was reading through a book-living in the lion's den, when i came across this..

If

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies;
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;
If you can dream-and make dreams your master;
If you can think-and not make thoughts your aim,
If you can meet with triumph and disaster,
And treat those two imposters just the same;...
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings-nor lose the common touch;
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run-
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And-what is more-you'll be a man, my son!

Rudyard Kipling

*gRINz* would have added loads more to this poem...or changed a few lines..:) but, this poem..indeed :) if . Coincidentally...bought his book of poems the other day ..rarrs....if only such beauty were not hidden in random poetry!
*bEAMs* but indeed, impressive and admirable is the one who walks with fortitude, who treads amongst the extremes of life but remains unscathed, who passes through luxury without making luxury his or her end, to feel hate and anger but love even more, to be calm and resolute, to have an unyielding and undying passion, filled with compassion and humility..and is true to all..and seeks after You..

And yet..uncannily, changed in such a way in the one who sets him/herself apart for You...:) so many things to aspire to be, accomplished in You in that instant *sMILe*

to not be of the world, but set apart from the world..cause we don't belong to the world..

And i am thankful, for that. :)

Fearless

*gRINz* heh watched the brilliant movie yesterday...what more may I say? :) breathtaking moves by the master of wushu-sleek, cool (dang, picture him fighting single handedly in the rain with a black umbrella in his hand!!), an effortless display of an art that wows the crowd in its beauty-yea, what more can i say!

Bleah..shows on honour and integrity that accompanies ability never ceases to buy me over!! *bEAMs* plus..the tears that flow along with the plot..haha it's times like this when i'm grateful for my sweater..brilliant for hiding everything ne!! woosh!! remembered how much i wanted to cry (And did, admittedly) in watching the last few scenes...excellent! Haha, high recommendations everyone!

Another selling point? Thought provoking lines i suppose..shall simply gloss over one, reason being it has crossed my mind at a certain point in time in JC..

"Our lives are not ours to lead.." (the movie)

Invoking the vague memory of something that crossed my mind 2 years ago..

With every person we meet, our right is diminished to live our own life as we will..For those who walk into our lives and out, whether they remain or drift away, carry with them a part that is of us..sharing a moment or a portion of our lives that isn't ours to keep alone. Hence, it is with this, that we are held accountable as well to them..those whom we imprint our footsteps upon..

Heh, forgot what induced me to think of such a thing ne, even how the context was applied..but i guess it jolted me back out of being the slacker i probably am..(hee and still am, to a certain extent)

But yesh..food for thought, and my mind juices have run dry. For now :)

heh...a new blog? *sMILe* decided that with the things i may want to post here...would be more of a stumbling block to my youths than i'd like...sometimes, things are best left unsaid and untold till a better time.

sighness. I guess the one motivating factor in writing this would be a recent(past few hours at least) feeling under the weather..the female three lettered curse? Heh, mayhaps ne..sudden onset symptoms of melancholy and the urge to cry (hee although some peeps would beg to differ.."my dear! but you always cry so easily!") bahness. Always felt pms to be beyond me.. but even more so, i should have no reason to feel this way. Not when You have blessed me beyond what i deserve. Nothing.

Frustration would then be my next excuse. At the way some things appear to be, or not to be. *sMILe* methinks my dear jie may know me better than i know meself then..recall the slight irritation and indignation when she calls me naive, or simple minded (heh stupid?). Indeed, i am..most probably, simple minded. Or to place it more accurately, have a want for the simple things in life. (: Little things make me happy..a friendly smile people give..feeling the breeze on my face, stepping on nice crinkly dry leaves, hopping around, hugging my pillow, looking up at the nice sky, to see the sunset, to walk, to have my frens happy..and the bliss it derives motivates me to make gifts for peeps, even though "you never know, they may chuck it in the bin!"i wouldn't care for that ne..cause at least i may express my care freely hoho(:

Yet there are times when life doesn't pamper me in the way i'd like it to be. And it's times like these when i feel i need Your embrace, a kinder surprise therapy,esplanade and singapore river therapy...piano and music therapy.. a good cry..confusion? Maybe a feeling of uselessness..that so many frens around me feel so down, and even though it worries the happiness out of me..and saps on the very last dregs of my physical energy, cause there are so many things i'd like to do to cheer them up, within every single bit of my ability. Only to realise that this little ability i'd like to muster up, is non existent. To tell my frens it'll be okie, to give them a hug, to cry with them, to pray with and over them, to want to step in and make everything a little brighter than they thought it was..but there are restrictions. Is it possible? To have them feel, as i know You feel, to shout out with every single iota of my being, that i love them soooo much? That it hurts so much when life bears darkness upon them, that it aches when there's so much i want to do for them and yet can accomplish nothing..

Don't think nat was completely right when she said i don't get affected. *sMIle* methinks i do ne..just that sometimes i run away...but between sharing that sorrow and not being told what on earth kills that happiness..i'd choose the former any day. Cause it IS a privilege...and i'd give anything to share that burden.

Let me cry with you my friends..because at the end of the day, the sorrow becomes muted in the symphony of friendship and the hope and promise of a better time to come:)

So yup! Allow me the honour, to be able to share of that precious life, to walk with you..to delight as you delight, to sorrow as you sorrow, and to hope as we dream together of a utopia that may have yet to come.*hugs*