Priceless are the words of old!
Priceless are the joys of life
at this time of year...
Others grieve and are no more filled with love,
for joy escapes the heart of mourning.
Lighten the load with quietness of spirit
and gladness in the silent spaces,
Culture gladness with warmth:
letting the warmth sink deep within
to the coldness of the heart,
and open the eyes once more.
Plight may change in much solitude,
for choice there lies in solitude.
Breathe the warmth of the cup, the steam,
allowing it to penetrate deep within,
loosening the cords that bind.
Quietness, withdrawal and solitude
to test our strength of character.
We come to them with gladness of heart by choice
in the inner spaces prepared and the outer spaces
carved out of the clutter to honor them...
an altar of favorite things,
a stone, a flame, a reading,
a heart of love from another who cannot attend,
a place set for the absent one,
and be glad, if even for a moment of time,
touching lightly, lest it escape by
the grabbing and holding onto,
allowing only...allowing only.
Breathe the breath of life in these moments
to revive and rejuvenate.
for the spaces of the heart are our own
Protecting the precious spaces within
Written during the rehearsal of the Magnificat by Bach
just prior to the Festival Chorus concert, SUNY Oswego.
Inspiration begets imagination,
Turning the clock to twelve.
Chimes blending in nature's reveille.
Task and no task as one of hope
Blending and molding until one is two
Flowing forever to perfection.
Overflowing in love of spirit,
Create deep waters of strength,
folding and unfolding in a
Fly away, meet the spirits of life and love
wherein flow the gifts of hope, and peace,
multiplied a 1000 times to one-
Holy and righteous in God's sight.
Relax into the moment, head held high.
©Sharon Terry 1996
I recently discovered the following poem from 1993
and my request to God that led up to its being written.
Prayer: Lord, I wish to write a poem of comfort so beautiful and so complete that it will bless the lives of those who read it and comfort those who need it.
of a hundred coffee beans,
9/3/93
Halo of flowing, glory outpouring
Creator's image of sharing her love.
Nature, our teacher, delights in her gifts:
foreseeing, foretelling, forewarning,
forgiving, dying, and living, creating anew.
Preach to us Jack, from down deep in your well
message of life of refreshing our spirits
of turning and growing, of living and loving, of joy from within.
Inspired by a friend
O Lord, to Thee
O Lord of wisdom, glory, power, and might,
May we accept the beauty of your light,
And holy rise to face each dawn of day,
To speak your praise and walk in your blessed way.
May we stand firm and ne're the tempter try,
As unto thee we raise our battle cry.
O Lord of wisdom, glory, power, and might,
May we accept the beauty of your light.
May we lift hearts and hands to glorify.
O Lord, to thee we raise our battle cry.
(Feb. 2002)
©2002 Sharon Terry
I walk in the light
as he is in the light.
I see the light
a-bright.
I spend the light
upon my soul.
I stand rejected
and then made whole.
I speak the light
thrust up within
to feathered fullness
bringing life.
Joy breaks forth
within my heart
to spend and thrust
and break apart
into a million pieces
to give away.
I stand and throw
this lust for life
and spend by tearing it apart
to give to those
whose hearts are strong.
It won't be long.
So stand and wait
and watch and pray
for only God
does know the way.
©1993 Sharon Terry
As If Still Clay
When someone ceases
to know the difference
between doing and not doing,
that is when our Lord steps in.
When someone ceases to see
the "right" and the "wrong,"
the "right" and the "wrong,"
and begins to simply "be" the right,
that is when the potter's vessel
holds the waters of life.
The vessel with a spout
never thinks of being poured.
Formed and fired by the potter
for his use,
it yields in his hands
as if still clay.
The waters of life pour forth,
full force,
the vessel,
now a thing of beauty.
©Sharon Terry
1993
I mourn the time I've lost.
I do not know how to understand.
It is beyond my experience.
I long for what I do not know.
I flee from its presence,
yet ask to be made whole-
a well, overflowing its rim.
waters flowing 'round my feet.
for full immersion of my soul?
into the sweet smelling water,
scented with roses and violets and love.
all about me, elbow deep.
I surrender to the depths, knowing
I will be lifted up from within.
Holy Yours
Tide water covers my head,
Making me holy yours, oh God.
I count not my blessings in solitude,
For I must make witness to the fact
That I will see God face to face.
©Sharon Terry
1996
The Wick, The Flame, The Glow
I called today on the telephone,
How are you?
I am an unsettled misfit.
Please tell me God,
Where is my place in your plan?
It was on a Wednesday,
I stared into your face,
Losing myself in questions,
When slowly my gaze fell
Below to your foot beneath your robe.
Please take a step, I heard you say.
Please show me a sign.
Signs I have shown. You do not hear.
Listen and be inclined.
You are the wick.
You burn the flame.
You cannot see its glow.
You draw the wax, the energy,
And are consumed
By what your eyes do not behold
Nor heart can tell.
You are the wick.
You burn the flame.
You cannot see its glow.
I see your glow.
No, wait, I cannot yet receive
Within my heart, your sight.
And may never,
Nor have need,
For wick does find
No ego to sustain.
You are the wick.
You burn the flame.
You cannot see its glow.
©2000 Sharon Terry
Longing
Longing turns to wishes
Wishes turn to dust
What once was prized as value
Now only seems as lust
Lust for self expression
Lust for life and love
Lust to find the reason
I came from above.
Where Creator made me
Whole and pure within
Then life's pictures sharpened
Sin became my kin
Then the heavens opened
Opened from above
Christ was sent from heaven
Filled with heaven's love
Troubled there I found him
Kneeling at his cross
Lift the burden from me
Cleanse me from all dross
Lust for self expression
Lust for life and love
Lust to find the reason
I came from above
Am I all that different
From my Savior's heart
Lust for life love reason
Central to his part
Out of dust comes wishes
Out of wishes passion
Make within me reason
After your heart fashion
Lust for self expression
Lust for life and love
Lust to find the reason
I came from above
©Sharon Terry
2000
For beauty and for love
you come to me.
You pass the night,
not knowing joy nor sorrow,
but only hope
to touch the stars,
kissed with the dew
of morning's light.
My tongue dost
tell my heart
the gladness of
your caress,
and wanders not
among the press
of foot paths
trod with care,
for light your touch
and out of darkness flee,
I come to thee,
I come to thee.
©Sharon Terry
February 1, 2011
Oh Love Divine
A sudden rush of loving you
Turned upside down and flowing through,
Our hearts leap high stand tall and cry
We touch the joys that round us lie.
My love, surround me with your kiss
As angels round us both do fly,
And in this moment live the bliss
To intertwine our love divine.
Oh love divine that passes joy
Full flung without the pain of time,
I lie upon your bosom's glow
And rest in quiet peace sublime.
My love, surround me with your kiss
As angels round us both do fly,
And in this moment live the bliss
To intertwine our love divine.
Oh love divine, oh love divine
That passes joy, that passes bliss,
My love, surround me with your kiss
To intertwine our love divine.
©2002 Sharon Terry
The Hot Chili Packet and You
The hot chili packet left over
from your take out chili
still rests on the table,
waiting, as if you will return for it,
as if hoping you will.
You have gone away from me,
only for a few days,
but all of me wants to be here
for you, waiting for your return.
I am not unlike the chili packet.
I have life.
It takes on life because you touched it,
left it there.
It is a reminder that you exist.
I am a reminder that you are real.
If I am real, then so are you.
Come home to me my one.
The hot chili packet and I await.
To laugh is to love.
I cannot but love the people with whom I laugh.
©1996 Sharon Terry
Go outside
live
love
be happy
rejoice
...you and i
About the Poet,
Sharon Terry
"Poetry comes in many forms, and we can add it to our lives in varied ways if we enter into the activity with an attitude of awareness to what comes, as it comes, without anticipation. Although poetry comes for me without anticipation, I stay aware to the changes the poem wants to take as it creates itself on paper. And so if we enter into life's little ways of taking time to just be, we can enter in without anticipation, and allow the poem of the moment to unfold, with our only task to stay open to the changes." ~Sharon Terry
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