Category: Writing

Silence: Soul Soil

~ Elizabeth W. Marshall ~ 2 Comments

Day 15 – Welcome. It is quiet around here. (To catch up on this 31 Day Series, click the tab at the top of my home page.)

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Silence feeds my soul. I sit in the thick cloud of quiet and breathe in nutritious nothing. Stoke the burning embers of my spirit with more air from quiet spaces. Creativity lives there. Peace and calm attend me. It is as if I am starving for the deafening quiet. Thoughts parade through my mind on their sock footed silent march. Pat pat pat. Like cotton balls sneaking down the stairs. Tumbleweeds blow from the cobwebbed corners of my imagination places.

I am haunted by a holy hush. Muted moments merge into my mind.

And nearly every quiet moment feeds my hunger.

And yet I am filled with a guilty wondering. Why the wiring that is me needs portions of quiet that could feed four families for a fortnight.

Why my margins are so wide, that the world runs in a narrow single lane highway down my life. Is this a guilty pleasure, this seeking silence. Or is it the soul-food required for my survival. No, for my thriving. Creatively, joyfully, abundantly and wonderfully.

Do I choose quiet. Or does quiet choose me. Did I move into the quiet places out of a new sense of hunger and desire. Or did my soul finally settle into itself as a seeker of quiet. A needer of buffers for creating and pondering. For growing and giving

Silence, my soul’s soil. I embrace it. Inhale it. And give thanks for it in my world.

And when the dark clouds of loud and clanging change come, unwelcome in my world, may I have the grace to bend. Extend my hand to the invaders of my muffled space.

And say, this too is for my soul. This season of more noise and less quietude. This season of more chaos and less simplicity. Oh may my heart open the door and let some of the world’s noise in.

Spread my peace, share my peace. Release my peace. To another.

And celebrate that this is where God has made me to be and live, in the abundant place of silence. With prayerful thanks.

May I wait with patience for the return of silence, to come and feed my soul again. 

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Joy Comes In The Morning, The Wind Is A Gentleman, I Seem To Remember (A Triology)

~ Elizabeth W. Marshall ~ 1 Comment

Welcome to Day 8.
Welcome to Poetry.
Today my offering is A Triology. Thank you for riding through October with me. The pleasure is all mine.

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I.
Joy Comes In The Morning

Like the morning tube of bad news
Rolled and stuff in cellophane
To protect us from it
Or it from the rain
Count on it, the wad of this and that
Thrown in haste at the end of the driveway
We can count the number of times it
Has failed
To find its way into our breaking hearts
With news of the day

But Joy comes in the morning
On the magic carpets wafting to
And fro, in currents of wind
The limbs
Their launching pads
From which they are sent
Couriers of beauty
Bearers of good news
Fragments of whimsy
Stuck in the autumn’s wind
Draft, their fuel

The next piece
Looks like a Monarch
Lost
And the next confetti
Autumn celebrates its peak

And we leave the paper
In the drive
And choose to let it rot and dry
Become yesterday’s news

Because joy comes in the morning
When we set our eyes on
The beauty of it all
One leaf, two leaves
I cannot count them all
But each one marks
Gratitude
As
On my lawn
They
Fall

II.

The Wind Is  A Gentleman

Gentle in his ways
Caressing the wind chimes
With his fingertips
Like a lover on his beloved’s
Cheek
Blows a kiss
Gently touching
The soft and blue veined skin
On the nape
Of her nearly
Octogenarian
Neck
Saying goodbye
Soft and sweet
But just
For now

A gentleman always returns

III.

I Seem To Remember

I seem to remember
She said to me
After the poem was read
Twice
Aloud

We’d ingested every word
Sucked the beauty from the bone
Like marrow on the leg of lamb
Left ravenous with remembering

Poetry, bone-digger
Excavater

Of the buried past

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Thank you for joining me. See you tomorrow, Day Nine.

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Laughter, The Joy of Giddy

~ Elizabeth W. Marshall ~ 3 Comments

Today is Day 6 in the Series, Postcards From Me (#write31days).

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To catch up and read the series in its entirety click here or go to the link at the top of my homepage. Welcome. You bring Joy. This challenge and journey are better with sojourners along for the ride.
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laughing sister

My poetry asked for a three day weekend. I said since you work so hard…. you deserve it. Take a little vacay. Just please come back tomorrow. Because I am doing this series and you are a big part of it. Don’t leave me hanging. Don’t abandon a girl in her time of need. So that leaves me with prose. Prose today again. Tomorrow poetry. Or a hybrid blend. I love surprises and hope you do too. Come back tomorrow, won’t you and journey through this October series with me.

Subscribe & walk through the entire 31 day series. Just like laughter, it is free. And follow along on Twitter, Instagram, Pinterest, Google plus and Facebook. The cruise director in the right sidebar should direct you where to go.

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I am beginning to think that if I have one small regret, it would be I should have laughed more. So I am making up for lost laughter. And the timing is good. Very good. Because I do not know how we would wage these little mini battles with Dementia if it were not for laughter. It is saving us. A lifesaver for our souls. A healing gift from The Creator. Lord have mercy, laughter is good for the places touched by pain.

She throws the door open and waves the bag of dog bones, thrilled at the photograph of the dog on the front. It looks like one of hers and that delights her, turns her inside out with joy. Laughing and smiling and finding joy in a micro-moment. Like the packaging of dog treats.

Joy and laughter are a balm to this family battling Dementia.

Laughter bales the water out of our sinking boat. Buoys us. Anchors us to safety. And elevates our spirits.

We sit in front of a blazing fire. Warmed by each other, the routine of a daily reading from some of our favorite writers. And the cackling wood and flame. Now is the time to start the day well. Now is the time to begin rooted in The Word and in quiet reflection.

We read the words of Anne Lamott, along with Brennan Manning, Oswald Chambers and more. But it is Anne who turns up the fire in our belly’s with hardy belly laughs. The room is turned on its head. We are overtaken by side-splitting cackles. Though laughter is contagious, repeating the phrases which sent us into an hysterical tailspin, well something may get lost in the translation. So I won’t.

But you know the ways your funny bone gets tickled. And how the slightest of nuanced phrases and simple word choices can bring levity to the dark moments. For, indeed, we were discussing some heavy topics, when laughter entered our hearts. Like sickness and pain and divorce. It is not that they are funny. No. It is that the soul balm of laughter and a playfulness in the midst of pain brought a lightness which we needed. Cried out for. Thirsted for.

May laughter and silliness, play and light- heartedness seep into your day. Soothe the hurt. And be a balm to the aches and pains of your heart.

Thank you for joining me for Day Six. You are a treasure.

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Joining Laura Boggess at The Wellspring

I am enjoying Laura’s New Book, Playdates With God, available on Amazon. Every page I’ve read has touched me and left me with a sweetness. It is simply a beautiful, delightful read. I hope to do a giveaway before the end of October of the book. Stay tuned for more on this.

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