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Solstice
This sonnet is a tribute to all the Poetry Pub Poets who have been such an encouragement and blessing over many years. As this is the weekend of Rabbit Room’s Hutchmooth Conference in Nashville, TN, many of them are there in attendance. I am missing them and praying they have wonderfully inspiring weekend.
As I mentioned this poem is a tribute. These poets whom I have come to know have show me kindness and hospitality, and their generosity has been life giving. I am so grateful to the Lord for them. Write on, poets wherever you are. Your words are enchantments that are being used in the work of Him Who Makes All Things New.
I trust you poets whom I have heard
To dis-spell darkness with your words.
I’ll follow your lead to the darkest day.
I’ll hear and believe all you’ve to say
About the ills of the wicked and bad—
The grief of trauma and loss, the sad
Which you beat into golden, lined-welds
To bind together all the broken we’ve held.
And I hope to be the first to cheer
When gathered on blankets neath trees to hear
All the poems you’ve prayed, how their mending
Worked to bring high-summer — this never-ending
Solstice where in The Park, the Spirit’s breeze
Blows healing that falls as light on the leaves.
© Randall Edwards 2023
This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit backwardmutters.substack.com
This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit backwardmutters.substack.com
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By Randall EdwardsThis sonnet is a tribute to all the Poetry Pub Poets who have been such an encouragement and blessing over many years. As this is the weekend of Rabbit Room’s Hutchmooth Conference in Nashville, TN, many of them are there in attendance. I am missing them and praying they have wonderfully inspiring weekend.
As I mentioned this poem is a tribute. These poets whom I have come to know have show me kindness and hospitality, and their generosity has been life giving. I am so grateful to the Lord for them. Write on, poets wherever you are. Your words are enchantments that are being used in the work of Him Who Makes All Things New.
I trust you poets whom I have heard
To dis-spell darkness with your words.
I’ll follow your lead to the darkest day.
I’ll hear and believe all you’ve to say
About the ills of the wicked and bad—
The grief of trauma and loss, the sad
Which you beat into golden, lined-welds
To bind together all the broken we’ve held.
And I hope to be the first to cheer
When gathered on blankets neath trees to hear
All the poems you’ve prayed, how their mending
Worked to bring high-summer — this never-ending
Solstice where in The Park, the Spirit’s breeze
Blows healing that falls as light on the leaves.
© Randall Edwards 2023
This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit backwardmutters.substack.com
This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit backwardmutters.substack.com