We Leave with Nothing but Love


Sometimes
July 21, 2010, 1:25 pm
Filed under: God, Poetry, Relationships, Uncategorized

Sometimes there is a regrettable moment. Or series of regrettable moments.

Sometimes there is an opportunity to take, regardless of the daunting speed and pressure.

Sometimes the pressure turns into a diamond, or the discomfort turns into a pearl.

Sometimes I want to cry because I can’t seem to communicate my deepest, purest desires.

Sometimes I wonder if the pure desires are actually the ones at the forefront after all.

Sometimes my relationship with God seems the most real and significant thing in my existence.

Sometimes my guard is down, and I have to beg mercy, that God would help me remember what that guard looks like again.

Sometimes I regret, with a strong desire to do better, to be legitimate.

Sometimes I regret, wishing that life would just be done already.

Always, God is good. Forever, His Word is true and powerful. Never will He stop loving His children. And every moment has been providentially permitted.

Investigate my life, O God

find out everything about me;

Cross-examine and test me,

get a clear picture of what I am about;

See for yourself whether I have done anything wrong-

then guide me on the road to eternal life.

(Psalm 139:23-24. The Message.)

My regrettable moments are over and have been forgiven. Internally, I have processed them and moved on after months of prayer and quiet.

New and beautiful opportunities are afoot.

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Desperation. Grasping for the real figures of Mercy, Pity, Peace, and Love.
October 25, 2009, 5:50 am
Filed under: Books, Economy, Poetry

Whether reading Billy Collins, Dana Gioia, or William Blake, there is no clear understanding of the human forms: Mercy, Pity, Peace, and Love. This has been a semester of spirituality and poetry for me. Becoming a huge fan of Collins and Blake has left me pensive- but wordless. Much help that is, having to write a 14 page paper for this term in the Torrey program. Weeks of thought and research and hurried discussion has left me still with merely the topic, and hardly a thesis: “Pity and Taxation.”

Blake offers intriguing contrasts to his four virtues. He examines their worth from two perspectives: From Inncence first, then from Experience. Check this out:

(From Songs of Innocence):

“The Divine Image”

For Mercy has a human heart,

Pity a human face,

And Love, the human form divine,

And Peace, the human dress.

(My thoughts are brought to a peaceful place, examining the worth of the many emanations of goodness. I want this goodness. I want to be good and to know good people. Isn’t this place we reside a place of mutual affections, helpfulness, and virtue?)

(From Songs of Experience)

“A Divine Image”

Cruelty has a human heart

And Jealousy a Human face

Terror the Human form divine,

And Secrecy the human dress.

(So now, Mr. Blake, the ideals of Mercy, Pity, Love and Peace are replaced with the bitter masks of Cruelty, Jealousy, Terror and Secrecy!)

If Blake were to organize a system of economics for his government, he would get too discouraged by the disgusting faces of human Bitterness which come out at night. Pity is great, and yes, in taxation, people ought to receive tax deductions and fewer charges if they experience poverty. But even Pity is distorted when those who are taxing are only acting upon pity and mercy because of their inner corruption! They don’t have the rights of individuals in mind, only their self-serving prejudices.

Pity is a necessary goodness in a world of beauty. CS Lewis restores the views of pity. He takes Blake’s guttural distortions of goodness back to the divine understanding (yes, life’s pain remains, but every pain etches another image of God’s divine Providence!) in The Great Divorce. Again, I am left with so many great words of Lewis, I can’t decide which are the best to represent the beauty of reconciliation. This is the method Lewis provides when virtues are corrupted by humanity:

I do not think that all who choose wrong roads perish; but their rescue consists in being put back on the right road. A sum can be put right: but only by going back till you find the error and working it afresh from that point, never by simply going on. Evil can be undone, but it cannot ‘develop’ into good. Time does not heal it. The spell must be unwound, bit by bit, ‘with backward mutters of dissevering power’- or else not. It is still ‘either-or’. If we insist on keeping Hell (or even Earth) we shall not see Heaven: if we accept Heaven we shall not be able to retain even the smallest and most intimate souvenirs of Hell.

Therefore, Lewis recognizes mankind’s gross imperfections also. However, by his words I conclude that there must be a way to show pity in an ‘evil undone’ way. I must discover what is the dissevering power of showing pity through the government’s ways of taxation.

Can heaven be restored in the motives of the IRS? What is the role of Pity in the government’s budget?



To Blake, Sorrow is a Time for the Shepherd to Sit and Weep with the Innocent.
October 6, 2009, 10:36 pm
Filed under: Books, College Classes., Family, Living, Poetry

Can I see another’s woe,

And not be in sorrow too?

Can I see another’s grief,

And not seek for kind relief?

Can I see a falling tear,

And not feel my sorrow’s share?

Can a father see his child

Weep, nor be with sorrow fill’d?

Can a mother sit and hear

An infant groan, and infant fear?

No no never can it be.

Never never can it be.

And can he who smiles on all

Hear the wren with sorrows small,

Hear the small bird’s grief & care

Hear the woes that infants bear-

And not sit beside the nest

Pouring pity in their breast,

And not sit the cradle near

Weeping tear on infant’s tear?

And not sit both night & day,

Wiping all our tears away?

O! no never can it be.

Never never can it be.

He doth give his joy to all.

He becomes an infant small.

He becomes a man of woe.

He doth feel the sorrow too.

Think not, thou canst sigh a sigh,

And they maker is not by.

Think not, thou cast weep a tear,

And thy maker is not near.

O! he gives to us his joy,

That our grief to us his joy,

That our grief he may destroy;

Till our grief is fled & gone

He doth sit by us and moan.

On Another’s Sorrow by William Blake



A Poem of Partial Coherence and a Shoutout to Billy Collins
Wesley’s forced perfection
Edwards’s saving affection
Kant’s empirical madness
Coleridge’s feisty wording
Samuel’s peaceful sanctity
Education and friendship and home
Speaking implies tongues of understanding
Consideration allows communication
Poetry necessitates coherence
Like coffee beans need a filter
Like uphill biking needs strong legs
Time to let the man on the moon smile
To love the dark earth
To ride the night’s full horizon
To break into song and sing me to sleep

In an effort to write out some thoughts like a an artist of words, I typed out this choppy thought process. There was no intention to rhyme, and no intention for this to make sense to the common eye, but this is my poem to reflect my thoughts after a long, unaccomplished day of work, paperwork, homework, classes, conversations brutally cut short, frustrating volleyball games, spiritual introspection and reflection, and roommate meetings.


Midnight Affections in Partial Coherence

Restless eyes with big ideas

Search for an open eye to share the ideas

Sharing the laughter

Sharing affectionate conversation

Withholding insecurity for the sake of sanity

And naturally the sanity follows

The kind looks and words from friends


Legitimacy in relationship is better than the pain of introspection

Light of the Spirit to guide and to nourish

Friends of Christ in togetherness

When I find myself on the bridge over troubled waters

And say to myself that I am the silver girl

And say so long, and prepare to jump,

Who is to keep me there except the false light


Even over thinking the future will toss one over the edge

The troubled waters have enough to handle

Without one more body of intricacy and mess

And friends would become lonely also


As Frank Lloyd Wright is to the Fallingwater

So Sharon is to the CPA and to schedules

So experience is bred, but also distraction

Homework left undone

And friends neglected severely

The pithy phrases of the philosophers

And the affections of musicians

Can only give me something to hang a coat on


Wesley’s forced perfection

Edwards’s saving affection

Kant’s empirical madness

Coleridge’s feisty wording

Samuel’s peaceful sanctity


Education and friendship and home

Speaking implies tongues of understanding

Consideration allows communication

Poetry necessitates coherence

Like coffee beans need a filter

Like uphill biking needs strong legs


Time to let the man on the moon smile

To love the dark earth

To ride the night’s full horizon

To break into song and sing me to sleep


And here is a thorough tribute to Billy Collins for the sake of his quote:

The Man in the Moon

He used to frighten me in the nights of childhood,

The wide adult face, enormous, stern, aloft.
I could not imagine such loneliness, such coldness.

But tonight as I drive home over these hilly roads
I see him sinking behind stands of winter trees
And rising again to show his familiar face.

And when he comes into full view over open fields
He looks like a young man who has fallen in love
With the
dark earth,

A pale bachelor, well-groomed and full of melancholy,
His round mouth open
As if he had just broken into song.

Summer Twilight in La Mirada