Category: Poetry

Posted on in Aging, Book quotes, Challenge, Faith, Focus, Joy, Listen, Memories, Obedience, Poetry, Praise, Rest, Worship

Macrina Wiederkehr

“Macrina Wiederkehr, OSB (1939-2020), was a spiritual guide, popular retreat facilitator, and author who made her home with the monastic community of St. Scholastica in Fort Smith, Arkansas. The Benedictine traditions of deep listening to the word of God and hospitality toward all of life form the roots of her writing and retreat ministry. Wiederkehr is the bestselling author of ten books, including The Flowing Grace of Now, Seven Sacred Pauses, Behold Your Life, and The Circle of Life, which she coauthored with Joyce Rupp.” from Ave Maria Press

Macrina influenced my Christian formation through her writings. I was able to hear her in person once. It was delightful to be under her teaching that evening. I first read this poem a number of years ago and think of it every Advent. I had difficulty finding it this year. Guess I had best print it out for myself!! I used to have the book The Circle of Life where this poem was published.

O God of words, dear Word made flesh
give birth to my thoughts
change them into words
that will help me Christmas up the lives
of those I love, for I am weak and fragile
scared and empty this year
and still I feel You very near.

Jesus, I think I hear You coming
I think I hear a sound that says
you’ve cared your way into my life again.
I think I see a light more lasting
than the ones we hang on trees
I think I see a world
that’s splashed with God again
so gospelled with his presence
so covered with his love yet, lonely still …

O shoppers, dear shoppers put your carts away.
Please put your carts away
and search deep down within your hearts
for gifts that will not rust or fade
for where your treasure is there is your heart. (Matthew 6:19–21)
O look into your God-splashed, gospelled hearts
and see! See Christmas standing there
waiting to be, not bought but given free.

We are Christmas shoppers, Lord
We are shopping for a way to make your coming last
O take the blind in us and hold it close
O teach us how to see
decorate our lives with your vision
for Christmas, let us see!

O shoppers, dear shoppers hang lights in your hearts
instead of on your trees
for the One we’ve hung our hopes on
has come, and now we’re free
but only if we see.

Jesus, we long for Christmas-eyes.
Please heal the blind in us
for Christmas, eyes that see! Makrina Wiederkehr

Isn’t she amazing in her imagery and passion for Christ and the lost? I just love it! Addressing us directly, “Shoppers put your carts away!” “Dear shoppers hang lights in your hearts instead of on your trees.” May your God-splashed, gospelled hearts rejoice all through this season!

Posted on in Aging, Amazing Creations, Challenge, Faith, Humor, Joy, Memories, Nature, Poetry, Spiritual discipline, Spiritual growth, Thanks

Yes, Lord

When I was at the Convent November 9 for our JTIS meeting, I again remembered this prayer poem. Thirty one years later this is still my prayer.

Grow On! ©1994 by Molly Lin Dutina                

Wild the wind that sends the leaves aloft
Gleefully they chatter, “I’m free! I’m free!”
‘Falling’ leaves of autumn
Travel far from their beginning
Mixing with a flock of birds
As we, all earth bound, fail to see
Which is bird and which is leaf.

Mighty Force of God, capture me in Your updraft
Hurl me headlong in Your love
Drift me sideways with the angels
Take me far from all complacency
Where the familiar dulls my senses
Gently land me back at the place
On my Pilgrim Journey path where
You meet me with new courage
To grow on.

I wrote this while at the Convent of the Transfiguration in 1994. The wind caught the Japanese Maple leaves and the poem tells the rest of the story. I still need new courage to grow on. Lead me oh Thou Great Jehovah in your paths of truth and righteousness.

JTIS is our group for crochet, knit, any hand crafting an associate or friend wants to do. We started the group a decade or so ago. Most of us sat in silent retreat with one another, but did not know anything about each other. So we began with inviting the Cincinnati, (i.e., local) Associates of the Convent. The initials stand for Journey Together In Stitches. Not just sewing stitches, but laughter, too. Sadly, our group has begun to dwindle of late. One month another person and me were the only ones in attendance. This past week there was only one Associate and two sisters, another friend and me. I wonder if the group can be sustained?

I asked if anyone had any ideas how we might grow the group. I was told about the Methodists wanting to join communion with the Episcopalians. Perhaps we can invite Methodist women to join us?

I ask your prayer for this group to grow and prosper. We all need others to complete our walk. We need the stories of others. We need the encouragement of others. The joy and laughter cannot be substituted with things on line. The face-to-face meeting is special and to be cherished.

I know things change and evolve, but not everything needs to be thrown out. This fellowship has been working and in my opinion can continue to work for years to come. In AA they say, “Keep coming back. It works if you work it.” I pray the members of this group will return to coming back and working the magic of fellowship in Christ.

19 Again I say unto you, That if two of you shall agree on earth as touching any thing that they shall ask, it shall be done for them of my Father which is in heaven.

20 For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them. Matthew 18:19-20 KJV

And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds, 25 not giving up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another—and all the more as you see the Day approaching. Hebrews 10:24-25 NIV

 

Posted on in Amazing Creations, Faith, Nature, Poetry, Praise, Worship

Autumn Has Arrived

Right out my door
3 days later
Straight out my door
3 days later, even the light is so different!
Left out my door
3 days later, the orange gown on the grass
The entire neighborhood has black roofing material. This is Baker’s roof on the morning of 11/4/25, pure white.

Yep, Jack Frost has been getting busy with that brush of his! Do you recall the power of your childhood imagination?

“Jack Frost” by Gabriel Setoun

The door was shut, as doors should be,
Before you went to bed last night;
Yet Jack Frost has got in, you see,
And left your window silver white.

He must have waited till you slept;
And not a single word he spoke,
But pencilled o’er the panes and crept
Away again before you woke.

And now you cannot see the hills
Nor fields that stretch beyond the lane;
But there are fairer things than these
His fingers traced on every pane.

Rocks and castles towering high;
Hills and dales, and streams and fields;
And knights in armor riding by,
With nodding plumes and shining shields.

And here are little boats, and there
Big ships with sails spread to the breeze;
And yonder, palm trees waving fair
On islands set in silver seas,

And butterflies with gauzy wings;
And herds of cows and flocks of sheep;
And fruit and flowers and all the things
You see when you are sound asleep.

For, creeping softly underneath
The door when all the lights are out,
Jack Frost takes every breath you breathe,
And knows the things you think about.

He paints them on the window-pane
In fairy lines with frozen steam;
And when you wake you see again
The lovely things you saw in dream.

Posted on in Listen, Poetry

The Bird Was Early©Molly Lin Dutina

25-10-5 
The bird was early
Still dark outside
Cricket symphony in full swing
First bird begins to chirp
I assumed they waited until dawn
Not this one
It had a few bars to express
Crickets resume 
With dogs holding forth the timpani percussion
Bird fell silent again
Perhaps talking in his sleep?

Which reminds me. When the hummingbirds were still here I saw one sleeping on the branch of the spice bush. As you may know those hummers are constantly guarding the feeder. This one did not move for over five minutes. I can not be certain, but I think he was catching a nap!

Posted on in Amazing Creations, Faith, Just do it, Look, Nature, Poetry, Praise, Prayer, Spiritual discipline, Spiritual growth, Thanks, Writing Life, Yield

Poetic Phrases

Walking Lucky around the pond one early morning these words filled my head as I saw the glistening surface of the water.

The pond seems to be sparkling,
Just tadpoles kissing the surface.
Father make me sparkle as I reach to kiss You, I pray.


Watching the autumn leaves out the window during prayer time I wrote:
The gentle breeze here is loosening the leaves. 
They drift to the ground. 
Reminds me to release burdens and 
move into a new season. 
We breathe in the new day, exhale the old burdens.


Have you turned random moments into prayer? I believe each of us can! What would this image have you pray?

The Burr Oak tree out our front window has delighted me this autumn. During the summer the leaves were so thick we could not see the little birdhouse hanging there. Then the tree began to drop leaves. The mowers have cleaned up fallen leaves from under it at least twice. Today it is green, though the leaves are more sparse than in the summer.

It is almost as if she declares, “Steady as she goes!” Let’s not have too much autumn too soon! Besides it is still running in the high 80s here. They promise us a change in temperatures this week. Once again, I am not holding my breath on that!

We can see the bird house clearly now. I do not think any birds were housed there this year. Seems I would have noticed with all the feeders and activity that occurs at times. As the Burr Oak continues to lose her leaves I will once again be reminded of the Brother Lawrence revelation about a tree in winter. Until then I am delighted by the lingering green.

Nothing gold can stay, Frost taught me
so the mighty sycamore tree
in form of tiny leaf
shows me how to change
from green to gold to brown
and be refreshed with drops of golden rain
as I rest upon the ground
be still my soul   ~Molly Lin Dutina 
(For photo above)

Posted on in Book quotes, Faith, Just do it, Obedience, Poetry, Spiritual discipline, Spiritual growth, Surrender, Trust, Yield

Humility The Lost Virtue

I have been reading Joan Chittister’s book Wisdom Distilled From the Daily, Living the Rule of St. Benedict Today. In the chapter on humility she writes about both Benedict and Augustine.

Some place between these poles of extreme suppression and extreme selfishness, monastic humility provides a basis for human community and a basis for union with God. To Benedict the process is clearly the work of a lifetime. He calls it “a ladder of humility,” a climb with basic parts, a progression – not a leap- that involves the integration of both body and soul. “Our body and our soul are two sides of the ladder” he teaches. No dualism here just the simple, honest admission that each of us is grounded in something but reaching for God and each of us is attempting to bring the demands of the body and the hope of the soul into parallel, into harmony, into center. Against gravity and despite all the imbalances of our lives. Pulling body and soul together is the problem. It is also the project of life.

The tower and the ladder symbols were favorites with the ancients, but it was left to Augustine to give us that marvelous line: “Do you seek God? Seek within yourself and ascend through yourself.” If we are really seeking God, we have to start in the very core of our own hearts and motives and expectations. We can’t blame the schedule or the finances or the work or the people in our lives for blocking our progress. We have to learn to seek from within ourselves. We have to stop waiting for the world around us to be perfect in order to be happy.”

That is a load to think about! Body and soul. Spirit and seeking. Working with the ladder of humility. I pray this Sunday will start you on a journey of finding more humility in your walk. I hope you can descend within your own heart and discover the power of Christ in you, the hope of glory. (Colossians 1:27) Christ is able to lead and guide us in all of our searching.

Inside Out © 1988 Molly Lin Dutina 

I want to live from the inside out,
always within the center-down silence.
Having to struggle to get back 
is not the direction I choose.

Teach me, Lord, and help me 
know how to grow 
from the peaceful
sanctuary within.

Show me please where 
to refresh our love.
Give me attitudes that will unravel me
from the sin which so easily entangles.

Make me one with You, Lord,
so I will know 
how to be close 
to all that is around me.

Help me, Father,
and be glorified in my life.

Posted on in Faith, Just do it, Poetry, Prayer, Spiritual discipline, Spiritual growth, Writing Life

My Editor Is Back Home

I have been working with a professional editor on a book about prayer as a means of growing closer to Jesus. She was traveling for a couple weeks. I got an email that she is back in the area. Yikes! More work to be done – always!!

I worked really hard from January through May with my friend Dana to get the book of poems ready for printing. Then we printed it, bound it and I have been giving out some paper copies and sending out electronic digital copies.

Now I am applying myself to this book about prayer which will be published through Amazon Kindle Direct Publishing. A first for me. I wonder if I should have done the poetry that way as a few folks are asking for print copies? It just cost too much and took too much time to make the copies we did print.

My posting might be spotty the next couple weeks. I only have so much energy to go around. My grandson is learning to crochet with lessons from me. The crochet group in Union Township would like me to attend more than bi-weekly. I am also a homemaker, wife, etc. Learning a new sewing machine. Trying to help one grandgirl with her sewing.

I occasionally run into the brick wall that tells me there is too much energy going out. I need one of those meters that tells me what level my energy is at. Throw in the chronic pain, the sinuses raging this spring, I can wind up a mess if I am not careful.

So here is a warning that I might not be posting five times a week for the next few weeks. Plus, we are going to be traveling to New Mexico to see our dear friends the Cookseys. I do not usually focus well while traveling. The airport brain fog seems to initiate a brain state unlike the home brain state. You likely understand what I am saying.

Please pray as I continue to work on this book about prayer. The enemy of our souls does not like anything that threatens his assumed authority. Our King has power over us lives. I trust the Risen King to keep me, but I also need all the help I can get!

If you are interested in having a digital coy of the poems I will need your email address.

Posted on in Book quotes, Challenge, Faith, Just do it, Obedience, Poetry, Praise, Prayer, Spiritual discipline, Spiritual growth, Surrender, Writing Life, Yield

Rilke Was Onto Something

Ben Palpant in his book Letters From the Mountain quotes Rainer Maria Rilke from the book Letters to a Young Poet saying,

Things aren’t all so tangible and sayable as people would usually have us believe; most experiences are unsayable, they happen in a space that no word has ever entered, and more unsayable than all other things are works of art, those mysterious existences, whose life endures beside our own small, transitory life.

In a recent group Bible study at church the term ineffable came up. God is often considered ineffable. The word means too great or intense to be expressed in words, unutterable. Too sacred to be uttered. Indescribable; indefinable.

My life challenge has been for me to try to put into words my relationship with the Almighty. My goal is to speak about and express the unsayable, the things not readily spoken or expressed in regards to my faith. Oh Lord, I can only do this with Your help!

I agree with Rilke that “most experiences are unsayable.” So how does this happen to be my calling? My first response is, “Truly, I do not know!” Maybe something was handed down in the genes from Grandpa Snapp the Preacher or Grandma Snapp the teacher at God’s Bible School? I just know that from an early age I wanted to write about God. I have papers from 1966 and a few years prior to that when I started to want words around my experiences.

“Most experiences are unsayable,” wrote Rilke. My friend, Dana, is about to print my book of poems with over 100 selections. Perhaps someone will discover this God I adore through reading these poems? I pray the efforts to express my love and relationship with God will pull others into the space where words rarely enter. The space of mysterious existence. Christ in me, Christ in us, the hope of Glory.

25 I have become its servant by the commission God gave me to present to you the word of God in its fullness— 26 the mystery that has been kept hidden for ages and generations, but is now disclosed to the Lord’s people. 27 To them God has chosen to make known among the Gentiles the glorious riches of this mystery, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory. Colossians 1:25-27 NIV

Posted on in Amazing Creations, Book quotes, Faith, Nature, Poetry, Praise, Prayer

Contrasts/Similarities/Delights

The trees I speak about in this post are the orange/yellow on the left with dark black trunk and the pale yellow/green one on the right with sprouts along the trunk. It is so difficult to capture a good rendition of falling leaves from these two trees. I have tried repeatedly over the years. The above photo was taken one year on October 20.

Now I am looking at the same two trees in April. Bob is not certain a post actually went out last week about the two trees, so click here to read it. https://treasures-in-plain-sight.org/2025/04/24/the-maples/ One began with red flowers and now a storm of helicopter seeds. The other seemed to be doing nothing and made me wonder if perhaps it had died over the winter?

Six months apart in these observations. Throughout the summer there is lovely shade from morning into early evening. Then October and November they provide a storm of falling leaves. Now in April/May there is a mighty storm of falling seeds. Helicopters blanket the roofs, the grass, the garden beds, the driveways, the cars. Falling storm of new life if given the right time and place to sprout and grow undisturbed. Prior to the falling of this years’ plenty I have been pulling shoots from my garden formed by seeds dropped last year! How do they do that?

Soon we will have another bumper crop of maples growing where I do not want them. Help me remember to give thanks for all the seasons of the maples. I hear them making their gentle seed music on the back deck. The glory of life God designed. I wonder if there is anything that EATS those seeds? I might consider one for a pet; a well-fed pet at that!

Brother Lawrence was well versed in observing the work of God when he saw a tree in winter and mused ….

That in the winter, seeing a tree stripped of its leaves, and considering that within a little time, the leaves would be renewed, and after that the flowers and fruit appear, he received a high view of the Providence and Power of GOD, which has never since been effaced from his soul. That this view had perfectly set him loose from the world, and kindled in him such a love for GOD, that he could not tell whether it had increased in above forty years that he had lived since.

The winter barren tree, the buds of spring, the flurry of seed, the leaves pushing the seeds off the stems, the mercy of shade for the summertime, the wonder of falling leaves in a myriad of colors. Oh God, You are so good to us!

Watching the Maples © Molly Lin Dutina 4-26-25

Watching the maples
As one developed flowers and one did not
Watching the red one as compared with the rather yellow one

And suddenly the entire congregation 
of deciduous everywhere
burst into green and green and more green

No longer a view between the trunks
no longer a big sky here
tree upon tree is festooned

In early gown of tender greens
The earth of southwest Ohio
Has exploded with life

The dead looking wood of winter dormant
Just a memory now as more and more bird songs sound
Ringtone among the branches

Unseen choristers overloading the sky
Praises of myriads fill the air
continuous chanting towards God on high
Posted on in Book quotes, Challenge, Faith, Listen, Music, Poetry, Praise, Prayer, Spiritual discipline, Spiritual growth

Drop Thy Still Dews of Quietness

Medication was making it tough to sleep. This phrase dropped into my mind. I was uncertain as to entire lyrics. You have to love this aspect of the internet. I entered the phrase and then I had entire song lyrics, author etc. Here is my story about Whittier and the song.


Dear Lord and Father of Mankind | John G. Whittier written 1872. I have a book of poetry by him that belonged to my grandfather. We had it recovered as it was starting to fall apart.

  1. Dear Lord and Father of mankind,
    Forgive our foolish ways;
    Reclothe us in our rightful mind,
    In purer lives Thy service find,
    In deeper rev’rence, praise.
  2. O Sabbath rest by Galilee,
    O calm of hills above,
    Where Jesus knelt to share with Thee
    The silence of eternity,
    Interpreted by love!
  3. Drop Thy still dews of quietness,
    Till all our strivings cease;
    Take from our souls the strain and stress,
    And let our ordered lives confess
    The beauty of Thy peace.
  4. Breathe through the heats of our desire
    Thy coolness and Thy balm;
    Let sense be dumb, let flesh retire;
    Speak through the earthquake, wind, and fire,
    O still, small Voice of calm.
  5. In simple trust like theirs who heard
    Beside the Syrian sea
    The gracious calling of the Lord,
    Let us, like them, without a word,
    Rise up and follow Thee.

Pursuing the topic today I looked it up online. Wikipedia said:

“The text of the hymn is taken from a longer poem, “The Brewing of Soma“. The poem was first published in the April 1872 issue of The Atlantic Monthly. Soma was a sacred ritual drink in Vedic religion, going back to Proto-Indo-Iranian times (ca. 2000 BC), possibly with hallucinogenic properties.

“The storyline is of Vedic priests brewing and drinking Soma in an attempt to experience divinity. It describes the whole population getting drunk on Soma. It compares this to some Christians’ use of “music, incense, vigils drear, and trance, to bring the skies more near, or lift men up to heaven!” But all in vain – it is mere intoxication.

“Whittier ends by describing the true method for contact with the divine, as practised by Quakers: sober lives dedicated to doing God’s will, seeking silence and selflessness in order to hear the “still, small voice”, described in I Kings 19:11-13 as the authentic voice of God, rather than earthquake, wind or fire.

The poem opens with a quote from the Rigveda, attributed to Vasishtha:

These libations mixed with milk have been prepared for Indra:
offer Soma to the drinker of Soma. (Rv. vii. 32, trans. Max Müller).

So I found the poem in my grandfather’s book. It has seventeen stanzas. Reading it reminded me of the Mardi Gras celebrations in New Orleans and elsewhere where the celebrants go carnally nuts just before Lent begins. “Mardi Gras, which is also known as Fat Tuesday, is a day of indulgence that marks the end of Carnival.”

So the hymn writers took various stanzas from his poem and arranged them out of order. I want to add one that they seemed to have left out.

With that deep hush subduing all
Our words and work that drown
The tender whisper of thy call,
As noiseless let thy blessing fall
As fell thy manna down.

Yes, Lord help us to stop using too many words with You. To wait for the tender whisper of Your call, Your blessing as when Your fell manna. Feed us today with Your word of encouragement, challenge and joy. Yes, we are to once again return to stillness.

Oh crap. Remember those Post-its with so much adhesive? One took off some of the print in Grandfather’s old book of poetry, the poem entitled Disarmament. Foolish me used teh Post-it to count the stanzas and figure out what the hymn folks left out. I found the complete poem online and restored the words. But goodness! Was that necessary? Guess with this brain adjusting yet again to a higher dose of medication, I do stupid things.

Things that make this writer go, “GRR!”