The Fairy Diary Day 312 #TFDbyRWOz2

The Narrator continues:

I have been waiting for the dreams to start. Perhaps I am trying too hard. Trying to force it. Not allowing it just to happen. 

But I came to the realization that the loneliness I was sensing was not at all within myself – rather that feeling was the overriding emotion of Meribabell and his friends.

Day Four Hundred Forty Five #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

A lot of prep today to receive the new containers for shipment. I dealt with the challenging puzzle of arranging the stowage so that those shipments last off will go under those off first.

Emil was very helpful in this matter. He has everything arranged on shore to that end. What may hold up things is waiting on the Captain’s final approvals as to what will go.

By end of day we had the ship ready to receive the new cargo. In our cabin after dinner, Elijah and I talked over our days. He had wandered off into the city to look around. He senses a great loneliness and dispiritedness in all whose path he crossed.

I shared about Emil.

Day Forty Seven AM #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Lyle writes:

Never thought I’d say I was suffering from loneliness.  I am. I just have to keep my mind on what I’m doing and my goal.

Came across a small hardware store and I went in immediately to check for rope. Very little left on the shelves open to the public. So I next took a run through the stock room. All picked over as well.

Exited the building just as an Intruder passed by. I froze. And watched it disappear. In the general direction that I am heading.

This is going to be tricky.

A Broken Brook

A Broken Brook

A broken brook
Beneath matted leaves
An unanswered look
No thought to appease
Again we’re here
Which whim to tease
Our way we sear
And do what we please

Side by side
Not face to face
How did we
Succumb to this place
You followed your tongue
I held mine
Together we found
My lonely space.

RWOz2

I knew I needed at least two lines of poetry for my play The OutR Dark. So I decided to tackle that task on the bus to work one morning.
My protagonist is a carpenter, who happens to be a Christian and a poet. This is news on both counts to another character who had lost contact with him over the years. When checking up on his poetry she discovers, she believes, that he had been writing about her. She confronts him about this.
It ended up being a full poem, which I wrote over the space of two bus rides.

Hunger and Thirst

Hunger and Thirst

There is a hunger
that is not of the body.
A hunger that by the soul
only is known.
A thirst for the gentle curve
of another’s face
looking back into your own.

It’s a thirst not often sated.
It’s a hunger often prolonged
Our own desires oft times taint it.
Other times we’ve clearly been wronged.
Either way we come up empty
and in the midst of a famine again.
Instead of the self-promised plenty
we’re left with nary a friend

We begin by others forsaking,
we end by ourselves being forsook.
We never see ourselves making
our lives to others a sealed book.
With a strap and a lock
binding us tight
with the key having locked it
clasped in our fist-
shoved in our pocket
-deep down-
out of sight.

Still the desire within is to be opened –

to be read – and understood-

and loved.

There is One only who can do it.

One tender enough not to tear

the pages as He goes through it.

In fact, He’ll mend and repair

and pour Himself into it

and shoulder each burdensome care.

“Come and eat,” He says, “at my table.”

“Come and drink,” He says, “of my wine.”

“ Come to me,” He says, “I’ll make you able.”

“Come to me,” He says, “abide in my vine.”

“By my side you shall no longer hunger.

“By my side you shall no longer thirst.

“You shall no longer labor under

that despot, sin, for which all is curst.”

True to say
that first time I heard His voice I dared not to answer
at His look I turned and ran the other way
I sensed the cost would mean all of me
and I knew I could not give that away.

Yet He persisted in pursuing me in my flight.
(As He is pursuing you, my dear friend, even now)
For all around us we are finding only deeper night.
(As I am sure if you’re truthful you’ll allow)

So turn, as I did, to enter His Light
Give Him the key to your life
you’ve been holding so tight.
Why get your fill of meaningless strife?

As I lay starving in that uttermost place
I turned and my gaze was drawn His way.
Drawn to the warm, gentle curve of His face-
and I drank in all He had to say,

“I was broken in my body for your hunger.

“Iron spilled my blood for your thirst.”

As my eyes clung to Him, they were opened.
In all His pain He showed me my worst.
“It was for me You bled,” I said.
For all my blackness inside – His heart had burst.
In response to such love I could do nothing less
than find all my joy in putting Him first.

From that day to this
there’s been no turning back
I look to Him so I will not miss
the way or take the wrong path.

Cleaving to His side
I no longer hunger
Leaving all my pride
I no longer thirst
I find I can bear up under
all life’s problems, even the worst.

Now, the desire within

now I am opened.

Is to read of Him

and to Him understand.

For I realize that it’s me He’ll send
(That’s always been part of His plan.)

Sent to love others

so it says, as my very self
and to proclaim to my brothers

that from His table He shares His wealth

and to love Him with all that I can

And to love Him with all that I am.

RWOz2