"...sawdust coming from under the saw or soft yellowish shavings from a plane." These words immediately transported me to my father's shed and treasuring the ordinary in that sacred space.
This poem from an Estonian poet-- at first I expected it must be exotic in some way. But it was simply a poem, a lovely one, but simply a poem. Thank you for sharing it and having it inspire me to think about what's ordinary and what is not.
Love this poem, Ruth - not only because of the imagery and beautiful emotion behind it, but because my poem today references sawdust, as well - the kind that used to waft through the air when my father would craft his carved wood signs. Thanks for sharing this!
I've been privileged to live in three of the world's great cities (Nairobi, Port-au-Prince and Asunción, Paraguay) as well as spending time in many others (including nine weeks in Paris as a college student). I just moved to a new city: Kampala, Uganda. I've also lived in smaller towns in three countries. In all of those places there have been difficult days, but I've never found a city or town yet where God is not, and I don't anticipate finding one in the future, either. The name of my blog comes from the song "Love is Always There," by Carolyn Arends.
9 comments:
♥️ Love! ♥️
It is always those little things! Thanks, Ruth!
Ah, but poetry provides refuge for unreal times, thanks Ruth.
Wow! Such a beautiful poem! From a sugarcane field in Fiji to the handkerchief.
"...sawdust coming from under the saw
or soft yellowish shavings from a plane."
These words immediately transported me to my father's shed and treasuring the ordinary in that sacred space.
What a wonderful poem, Ruth. I hope you are staying strong.
I love this poem.
This poem from an Estonian poet-- at first I expected it must be exotic in some way. But it was simply a poem, a lovely one, but simply a poem. Thank you for sharing it and having it inspire me to think about what's ordinary and what is not.
Love this poem, Ruth - not only because of the imagery and beautiful emotion behind it, but because my poem today references sawdust, as well - the kind that used to waft through the air when my father would craft his carved wood signs. Thanks for sharing this!
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