#Marvelous

January 19, 2016 ~ Elizabeth W. Marshall ~ 3 Comments

Dear Marvelous:

You found me. Perhaps I found you. We found each other. We are now sojourners for a journey of days and weeks and seasons, through the calendar of 2016. While the earth spins and turns, we will look for the poetry. Together.

We missed the early days. We had not found each other yet when January began her spartan dance, slow and waltzing. Fresh with hope. So we are shy a full deck of 365. But we press on in the remaining. Linked. Arms hooked. You are an encourager of delight, a finder of the extraordinary and a lover of whimsy.

You are not the Pollyanna that some may think. You are not the eternal optimist. The wearer of rose-colored glasses. You are green with new birth. Effervescent with joy in the face of discovery. Yes, you are life-giving and eager to delight in the best. Often the simple.

The “m” sits on the edge of pursed lips, determined and brave and pushes off like a swimmer doing the butterfly. A graceful lunge. Into the realm of wonder and possibility. A sea of mystery and marvel. High tides, low tides. Ebbing and flowing. Always tossing up the treasures to be collected on the edges of our walk.

So there you are. Light in the dark. Warmth in the cold. You shade and color the nuances of life with glorious richness. With exquisite simplicity. Elegance in the simple. You are regal as a peasant in her everyday-ness. You are riches in the rags. Hope in despair. Light in the shadows.

Marvelous, you are a mindset. A lens. A capturer of life’s best and rarest. A treasure seeker. A seeker of intrigue.

Thank you for choosing me. Here’s to a year of marveling together. At all the mystery. Through the pain. Into the dark days. Around the deep ditches and past the hurdles of sorrow. Over, under, around.

Here’s to uncovering the marvelous. For you and for me. In the everyday. In every day. In Him and by Him. Glory be to the Creator of the marvelous.

amen,

If

February 25, 2014February 26, 2014 ~ Elizabeth W. Marshall ~ 4 Comments

If I bend, stoop and reach
At the sound of the cold North wind
And the rugged and raging sea
Harmonizing with the creak
Of my wrinkled, old, boney knees
A symphony of natural beauty
Stirs my soul as I search
For treasure left lying along the shore
For me
For me
For me

If the curve of my back is a bold black cleft
Or more like a twisted ampersand
And my heart beat slows
At the sight of gifts the generous sea has left
I wonder then
And now if

I raise the conch to my ear to hear
WIll the answers pour out
Or just sediment, sand and dirt

Will it whisper the secrets
I have walked here to find
Resting in windswept wet
And dry, brittle sand
Will it answer my questions
One at a time
Simple and clear
Plain for this wanderer
In search
Of clarity, comfort, forgiveness and
Peace

Or when the shell
Is pressed cold to my cheek
Will I hear only hauntingly
Monotone whispers
Familiar yet coded
That sound like the sea
A white noise of shushing and whooshing
Moans from the earth, like a chant from the monks
Worshipping high in the hills

And if that’s all that enters my soul
By way of my cold pink ear
The comfort of a lullaby fresh from the
Mouth of the ocean floor
That is more than enough
For me
For me
For me

It is miracle
Marvelous
Mystery

And I am now no longer in need
I want nothing, nothing
More
I have heard peace be with you
From the lips of the Sea.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Joining Jennifer Dukes Lee for #tellhisstory and Emily for #imperfectprose

Get Up And Go

February 11, 2014 ~ Elizabeth W. Marshall ~ 1 Comment

Get Up And Go

The idea of an approaching speed limit sign
For an age
Comes racing at me
In warped speed
I am on the Autobaun
Okay with a few passing me
But not okay with everyone leaving me
A sad sack in the rearview mirror of their
Adrenalin fueled lives
I want to join the human
Race
Bowed before the throne of God
WIth my gifts in tact
As I approach the finish line
Shoot the wad, spend it all

The word latched on to me like a barnacle

I carry it more as a compass than a parasite
This “Go”

Mercy attended my soul
In the pages of Acts where poet
Appears
And I was drenched in grace
Like an oil change or a tire change
Tune up for the soul
For a road weary poet warrior
The day it leapt off the page at me
Was the day I was bone tired with the heart cry
Brittle and parched
This heart of mine
Restless for poetry
For you it may be serving soup at the soup kitchen
It was the day I wanted to trade with
Anyone
For nobler, grander, meeker, more sacred
Hand me the ladle
Bless my heart I am ready to serve

Gifts are sweeter when they come wrapped
In tissue thin paper
My old blue leather Bible hid it until
The time was right
And I was pathetically
Dazed and confused

So I am back on the poetic highway
No yellow line down the middle
Demarcation of prose from poetry
Tuned up by Holy “what?”
Just for me
Laid the questions to rest
No longer scratching my head
Like a dog his fleas
I hear the poetry in the Psalms
And see it in every hive of bee
And crest of wave
Cracked egg and broken shell
Fog and rain, whoop of crane

These things He designed
Pure poetry

I asked her “why”
And she said “why not”
Why didn’t I think of the better
Surer way to skin that cat
Rip open the package
Tear off the bow

Appears I forgot to say thank you

Don’t march this to the jury box
And make it state it’s case
It is a poem
Not theology
Nor doctrine
It is servant’s cry
And Artist God
Relating
Relationshipping
And lingering in holy love there
Mano-a-mano
Though He made me
Poetess

Lover Of My Soul
And creator of the longing
That goes to the back lit
Mac with the apple carved there
It is the one bite out
That reminds me of sin

And poetess prays
Lead me to the raging waters
That are calmed by the
Words on a page

Or lead me to the quiet streams of words
For Yours
And a heart for you

Go with me in to the wordy wilderness
And grant me Your Peace
And now I am not compelled to word search
Poet
For a number to proclaim
But You know me well and I won’t promise
I won’t

Seek and find every bit of poetry
Laying in the lines
Somewhere between Genesis and Revolution

Ladle in one hand
Pen in the other
If you seek you will find
Me, with poetry

I got up and went
Until I break down again
Ever in need of a Holy Hand
up.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Why I Chose Go And Other Unanswered Questions

January 22, 2014 ~ Elizabeth W. Marshall ~ 1 Comment

Go doesn’t appear
As the opposite of stay
Always

Somedays it is synonymous with
Life and yes
Sometimes it is on the flip side
Stagnate

Go is brave on days
And it is walking timidity
Other times
Vertical in fact
But longing to be
Horizontal, in a state of quiet repose
Of all the words in all the world
Go chose
me
To walk out 365
Sleeps
To go dreaming and go waking
To go running and go crawling

Go said let’s say yes more
And no less
Take a chance and take a turn
Pull up to the banquet table
With a fork and knife
Dig right in to life
Cut it to the quick

Go says yes
Start with desert some days
Ride into the wind
Tears burning the cheek
Swim against currents
Against the howling wind
And walk in the rain
Even the thunder
Without a bumpershoot and galoshes
Now and again
Write a song
And sing along to the song
On the radio, loud and off-key

Eat with a friend
And not alone

When you are but two
Letters in a sea of verbosity
You risk being over simplified
And when you back up and go in reverse
OG
You sound like a caveman, man

Go can
B
Complicated too
Going out on a limb
Now and again

But don’t get me wrong
We are getting along
So far
Just fine
Me and Go
Go and I

We’re linked arm in arm
Side by side
Shadow and friend
Going this road
Together
Not alone

Even when we go
Nowhere at all
Anchored in our
Going nowhere state
Up to our elbows in
Pluff mud like
Quicksand
Sinking
Going nowhere fast

Go sings a melody
Backup
Sweet harmony
Happy as a sidekick

Go and I
Tandem diving
Into the teacup
From the high-dive
I had no chose but to
Go
Chose me.

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