this little light o' mine
So much about this time of year speaks to light and darkness, even for those who don't believe in Christmas or God. While many Christians believe that Christ, the light of the world, comes at Christmas time--helping usher us out of this time of darkness--Pagans believe that at this time of year, the winter solstice is a something which allows us to celebrate light and the rebirth of the sun. Whatever your belief, how can you not be absolutely enthralled by the presence of so much light?: holiday lights sparkling, twinkling; or if you are sans-city lights, just look at how bright the stars seem to shine against the black sky of winter!
I was seeking inspiration, and as I always do, turned to poetry, this time to e.e. cummings (another old favorite who seems almost a friend). This poem made me think of light and glory and the vast hugeness that this time of year can feel like to me; a dark world just waiting to swallow me whole. Go find some of your own light out in this beautiful world!
I was seeking inspiration, and as I always do, turned to poetry, this time to e.e. cummings (another old favorite who seems almost a friend). This poem made me think of light and glory and the vast hugeness that this time of year can feel like to me; a dark world just waiting to swallow me whole. Go find some of your own light out in this beautiful world!
"i am a little church (no great cathedral)"
i am a little church(no great cathedral)
far from the splendor and squalor of hurrying cities
-i do not worry if briefer days grow briefest,
i am not sorry when sun and rain make april
my life is the life of the reaper and the sower;
my prayers are prayers of earth's own clumsily striving
(finding and losing and laughing and crying)children
whose any sadness or joy is my grief or my gladness
around me surges a miracle of unceasing
birth and glory and death and resurrection:
over my sleeping self float flaming symbols
of hope,and i wake to a perfect patience of mountains
i am a little church(far from the frantic
world with its rapture and anguish)at peace with nature
-i do not worry if longer nights grow longest;
i am not sorry when silence becomes singing
winter by spring,i lift my diminutive spire to
merciful Him Whose only now is forever:
standing erect in the deathless truth of His presence
(welcoming humbly His light and proudly His darkness)
far from the splendor and squalor of hurrying cities
-i do not worry if briefer days grow briefest,
i am not sorry when sun and rain make april
my life is the life of the reaper and the sower;
my prayers are prayers of earth's own clumsily striving
(finding and losing and laughing and crying)children
whose any sadness or joy is my grief or my gladness
around me surges a miracle of unceasing
birth and glory and death and resurrection:
over my sleeping self float flaming symbols
of hope,and i wake to a perfect patience of mountains
i am a little church(far from the frantic
world with its rapture and anguish)at peace with nature
-i do not worry if longer nights grow longest;
i am not sorry when silence becomes singing
winter by spring,i lift my diminutive spire to
merciful Him Whose only now is forever:
standing erect in the deathless truth of His presence
(welcoming humbly His light and proudly His darkness)
~ e.e. cummings
Comments