Category: Poetry

Posted on in Faith, Poetry, Spiritual growth

Second week of Advent

October of 1993 I wrote the sentiment below as my earnest Advent Prayer. It still holds true now in December of 2020.

  
 
 
Self as Manger © Molly Lin Dutina 

 Here am I, stuff of earth
 But by the Spirit's power rebirth
 has brought me receptivity.
 Fill me with Yourself.
  
 Molded by Your Holy Hand
 I wait before You
 Cupped and ready,
 cleansed, atoned
 eager for Your radiant touch
 Virtue compelled to enfold Your own
 the vessel of Your making.
  
 Here am I, stuff of earth
 yielded for Messiah's birth
 be it unto me, O Lord,
 as in Your word and will.
  
 The Great I AM
 dwells in my heart
 there to impart the power
 courage and propulsion
 His dream to be fulfilled.

Then Mary said, “Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.”

Luke 1:38a NRSV
Posted on in Faith, Poetry, Spiritual growth

The Sacrifice of Praise

Have you heard this term from Scripture?

Through Jesus, therefore, let us continually offer to God a sacrifice of praise—the fruit of lips that openly profess his name.

Hebrew 13:15 NIV

In 1996 I wrote a poem about this and then revised it in 2014. I share it with you below.

 Crying in Front of the Dryer ©1996, 2014   Molly Lin Dutina  

 Praise! oh we do it most eagerly when things are going our  way
 Praise! oh we lavish it on those who have earned our approval
 Praise! when we get our own way, in line with our own will
 and then there are times of sacrifice.
 The Old Testament speaks often of sacrifices,
 burnt offerings, grain offerings, 
 sin, peace and trespass offerings. 
 Believers were told to offer those willingly.
  
 The sacrifice acceptable in God’s sight is
 the broken spirit and broken, contrite heart.*
 The Holy One says He dwells 
 with those who are contrite 
 and humble in spirit.
  
 Today there was a sacrifice of praise
 offered in front of my clothes dryer
 with a willing heart, broken and contrite,
 choosing to praise God
 although things were not going my way 
 or in line with my own will
 praise Him I did, tears running down my face
 and dripping off my jaw.
  
 For the first time in my life 
 understanding of the sacrifice of praise
 dropped the eighteen inches from my brain
 to my heart and into my soul.
  
 In myriad circumstances and happenstance
 there is rarely a day we receive 
 exactly what we desire.
 Every day we are told to sacrifice praise,
 give thanks, speak forth the wonders 
 of His love and mercy.
  
 Or we might simply choose 
 to clog our dryer 
 with the accumulated lint 
 of discontent, blame, disappointment.
  
  
  
 *PS 51:17
Posted on in Amazing Creations, Faith, Family, Nature, Poetry

February 18, 1992

 Moonlight   © 1992 Molly Lin Dutina 
      
 The blue/black velvet sky is 
 punctuated by brilliant stars.
 Their brightness is not diminished
 by the astonishing shine of the moon.
 Even the shopping center lights
 cannot detract from moon glow.
 Everything casts a shadow 
 as the moon shines on and on.
  
 On the horizon broiling veil of clouds
 emit a surprising flash of lightning
 and still the moon is not lessened.
 Alarming lightning, for this is just February
 and still the moon shines on and on.
  
 Periodically last year's leaves
 rustle in the breeze
 as the clouds gain height and breadth.
 The moon highlights them with glory
 and the cloud bank draws nearer.
 Suddenly we moderns understand our
 forefathers' fear of moon madness.
 The edge of the boiling tempest
 is clearly in view and brilliant
 as the moon shines on and on.
  
 One great flash tries to conquer moonlight
 then lightning queerly halts.
 Cotton balls at night
 of height clearly cumulonimbus,
 who has heard of such midnight madness?
 Star punctuations gleaming and fading
 but the moon shines on and on.
  
 Clad in pajamas
 wrapped in a blanket
 male adult earthling
 dances all barefoot 
 as God of the Universe
 chooses to delight him
 with night show of glory
 this midwinter evening.
 Ecstasy of the ages
 holds man's rapt attention.
 As boy-child emerges
 delight and wonder blossom. 

 One gray fellow, loose from the pack
 tries a solo conquer of Night Sun grandeur,
 but moonbeams silently pierce him.
 The roiling storm thins to an edge.
 Mankind's light is muffled and trapped
 as sky fills with gossamer 
 almost fog-like pink shroud.
 Gallant moon shines on.
  
 Edge of the blanket 
 snuggles over star lights
 sleepy light-years away.
 Chill of storm wind
 pushes me to find my comforter
 as toes and fingers, tips of ears
 remind me this is winter still.
 I stand determined
 watching clouds come marching
 pantomime in the heavens
 for the watchful to review.
  
 Without a sound 
 bright moon vanishes
 but as clouds keep advancing
 moonbeams break through the darkness
 far beyond the horizon
 encircling even storm dark
 in light beyond my view.
  
 As I stumble in dazed awe
 and wonder with amazement
 at God's joyous light show
 the storm says "I triumph"
 but my better self knows
 as I go inside my domicile,
 even now, moon glows on and on.
taken by r m dutina
Posted on in Covid 19, Nature, Poetry, Traveling

Now what?

Aren’t you tired of holding your breath? We are a world on edge. Global economy has nothing on global society right now. The Thanksgiving rush is all but over. The crowds have traveled and mingled among family members from far and wide. The sharing went beyond turkey and pies.

Experts are saying we are in for the worst winter in our history. I was appalled when they said 3,000 might die. Now we are counting deaths in the hundred thousands and climbing. Waiting for the other shoe to drop.

 
 Blanket © Molly Lin Dutina 2020  
  
 Magical morning
 White blanket covers the browns and grays
 of Autumn
 Speaks of winter to come
 Will there be 30 snowfalls since this
 Occurred on the 30th of November
 Sloppy wet snow
 Yet a welcome change
 During monotony of pandemic
  
 Next morning the snow was plastered
 On every branch and tree trunk
 Sky the color of snow
 Wind chills will be coldest
 We have felt since pandemic began
 
 Lord, what about the lonely
 The homeless and those stricken 
 With the virus
 Cover them, I pray, with Your Wings of mercy
 Show me how to help 
 In the midst of the awfulness 
  
Posted on in Faith, Poetry, Spiritual growth

Prayer

Before they call I will answer; while they are still speaking I will hear.

Isaiah 65:24 NIV

PRAYER© 1979  Molly Lin Dutina



A prayer
Prayed in truth and faith
Through the Blood of Jesus,
Is as a drop of water
Upon the river of life;
Sending out endless
Ripples and waves
Throughout creation.
 
As the prayer is said
The answer begins movement.

Not always given eyes to see, I lift my concerns in prayer. As I wrote above, I release them in truth and faith through the Blood of Jesus. Your will be done, Lord. Your will. As one friend says, nothing, else, nothing less, nothing more.

Posted on in Faith, Just do it, Nature, Poetry, Spiritual growth

Only Then ©2014 Molly Lin Dutina

Here at Siesta Drive I have my island of responsibility.
Even here I find it difficult
to push off the dock
into the quiet river of Living Water
for the renewal of my soul
stilling of my heart, quieting of my mind
floating in Your love
awaiting Your instructions and
anointing for this day.
 
I want to power up the boat
or maybe stay on the island
ordering about the mundane
resisting the holy and eternal.
Forgive me, again, my desiring
to be in charge and capable.
 
Take me to a quiet lagoon
            with jumping fish          
            elusive Great Blue Herons
            tree branches trialing their leaves at the water’s edge.

 
Anchor me in Your incredible center-down silence
wash over me with righteousness
grant me the kiss of peace
Your faithfulness and steadfast love
meeting me in holy embrace
of relinquishment to solitude.
 
Only then
            can I meet the mundane
            with correct vision
Your holy Kingdom first and foremost
            no matter what my activity might be.
 
So here at Siesta Drive if I will allow it
energy and solace I was hoping for at “The River”
may ebb and flow, around me, within, overflowing,
washing glaring, gaudy colors of importance
off the mundane,
letting those things fall back
into their proper place as incidental
like spoons tossed into the silverware drawer.
 
Posted on in Amazing Creations, Faith, Just do it, Music, Poetry

Incredible Bluebird

You believe that there is one God. Good! Even the demons believe that–and shudder.

James 2:19 NIV
Incredible Bluebird © 1991 Molly Lin Dutina


Incredible Bluebird!
Are you aware of your beauty?
As you ride upon your twiggy perch in the wind,
I watch in wonder and listen
as you speak to your mate.
 
“Aah!” I gasp as your colors burst forth in flight.
Unconscious of your beauty
yet cognizant of His call
you sing forth the praises
of God who made you.
 
Sing out, my soul,
in praise of God your Maker.
Take flight and rise,
above your deepest fears.
 
God is in charge,
and all the demons shudder,
as I rise to His call
soar upon His heights.
 
Even so, God’s company in heaven
gives a victory shout,
together
we rise upon our wings of faith.
 

This video is about 5 minutes long, but great images. Did not remember that Saint Francis is credited with the lyrics!

Posted on in Faith, Just do it, Poetry

Find the Focus

Some days as a writer and one who journals it is difficult to get my footing and direction as evidenced in Find the Focus© 2014 Molly Lin Dutina


Cannot find the clipboard
poems in process of revising.
Cannot find the journal
life in process of being noted.
Where is my concordance
trying to find that verse
never finished notes in my Bible
negligence has made this worse.
 
Too often cover important
With mundane and lowly
Help me find the focus
to tell forth the eternal and holy.
 
Fighting back the darkness
bearing forth the Light
partake in eternal struggle
get any pen, any paper
note on computer
the calling compels you to
herald the glad tidings:
God wins.
Posted on in Faith, Poetry, Spiritual growth

Retreat 2011

The theme was icons and how to use them for deeper communion and prayer. This is what I heard as result of that experience. Retreat ©2011 Molly Lin Dutina

“Yes, my dear, I AM the teacher
and so much I have yet to teach you.
You want to, now will you
incline your ear to Me?
 
“Will you turn your heart from
lesser things to feast upon Me?
Will you take My discipline and correction
that your soul may live in fatness?
 
“Christ, the Teacher, is the icon I AM
chose for you. I AM your Teacher.”
 
 
Yes, my Lord,
come and teach me.
Show me the discipline I need to embrace.
Help me to feast upon Your correction.

Posted on in Memories, Poetry

Only Then ©2014 Molly Lin Dutina

Finding it hard to get yourself willing to be quiet before the Lord? I have had that experience, too. I have used and written many images to talk myself into getting quiet. Here is one after my trip to the St. Lawrence Seaway to stay with a friend. 

Here at Siesta Drive I have my island of responsibility.
Even here I find it difficult
to push off the dock
into the quiet river of Living Water
for the renewal of my soul
stilling of my heart, quieting of my mind
floating in Your love
awaiting Your instructions and anointing for this day.
 
I want to power up the boat
or maybe stay on the island
ordering about the mundane
resisting the holy and eternal.
Forgive me, again, my desiring
to be in charge and capable.
 
Take me to a quiet lagoon
            with jumping fish          
            elusive Great Blue Herons
            tree branches trialing their leaves at the water’s edge.
 
Anchor me in Your incredible center-down silence
wash over me with righteousness
grant me the kiss of peace
Your faithfulness and steadfast love
meeting me in holy embrace
of relinquishment to solitude.
 
Only then
            can I meet the mundane
            with correct vision
Your holy Kingdom first and foremost
            no matter what my activity might be.
 
So here at Siesta Drive if I will allow it
energy and solace I was hoping for at “The River”
may ebb and flow, around me, within, overflowing
washing glaring, gaudy colors of importance
off the mundane,
letting those things fall back
into their proper place as incidental
like spoons tossed into the silverware drawer.
 

Center in His quiet and find yourself renewed once more.