Trinity Sunday

Today is the feast that we celebrate the Blessed Trinity.

At Mass, we'd sing "O! most holy Trinity! Undivided Unity! Holy God. Mighty God. God immortal, be adored."

The Trinity is a mystery peculiar to our Faith. What other religion celebrates the mystery of a Triune Deity? What other Faith honours God as three distinct Persons having one distinct Nature?

Many people cannot understand the concept. They can accept the idea of the Big Bang, that the whole world magically came to be through a giant explosion. (Persnally, I thought explosion destroyed, not created.) They can accept evolution. I have a hard time visualizing that somehow, an inanimate bit of sludge gradually became intelligent and over billions of years formed intelligent homo sapiens. Then again, if we took so many years to evolve into what we are now, why have we stopped evolving? As far as I know, Man has been pretty much static for at LEAST four thousand (probably more likesix thousand) years.

If you look in the world around you, so many things mirror groups of three. There are three stages of matter; solid, liquid, and gas. There is father, mother, and children in a family. There is past, present, and future. There are three leaves on a shamrock. There are three stages of life; child, adult, old age. So many things mirror the Triune God. It is amazing.

God bless you all, this holy day, in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.

Poetry

Why do people write poetry? What is it about poetry that makes it so different than actually writing a story?

Poetry, for me, is like noteless music. There is no audible tune, no audible melody, harmony, descant. Yet, when you read, when you let your voice flow over the metered waves of words, there is a song that can be heard. There's the floating notes of a well-paced rhythm, the sturdy beating pulse of a hard-hit pattern, the pulsing ebb and flow of free verse.

Take this verse, for instance:

When blossoms flowered amid the snow, upon a winter's night,
Was born a Child, the Christmas Rose, the King of Love and Light.

This is the first line from "Gesu Bambino", a Christmas song. There is a joyous flow of rhythm, a lilting "tra-LA la-la, LA la-la, LA la-la LA" of beat. It makes your heart beat in tune and makes you smile without meaning to.

Take this line:

I must down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship, and a start to steer her by.

This is from "Sea Fever", by John Masefield. You can hear the wild, needful beat of tempo here, the wistful thump of a yearning heart.

Poetry takes a heart's beat, whether it is joy or sorrow, loneliness, wistfulness, anger, and puts the beat of emotion to words. Poetry can speak to a heart better than many other written words, because it is raw emotion that is written.

Poetry sings, whether it means to or not. Poetry can be long or short, a full tale or a single moment, and in that lyrical phrase, in the singular moment, a revelation occurs.

Day Seven... I'm in HEAVEN!!

I can't believe it. I made it.

Day seven, and my last story is actually about our own little dog. His name is Sam, and he is a real soccer-fanatic dog. This story is called "Soccer Sam", and it's basically about how our little dog plays soccer with us.

I'm fully amazed with myself, though, because I did not think I'd be able to make it a full seven days doing just PB's. It's SO not me!

No pictures are drawn for this story...give me a break, I barely got off work! HOWEVER, I will have pictures pending.

Thanks for following me on this event. Give me five, y'all!