"... bruised, faintly lit, and clay..."

 bruised, faintly lit and clay

"A bruised reed he will not break,
And a smoldering wick he will not quench.."(1)
There are days the lighted wick is faintly burning
So how do we take it all in and this yearning
For health, and joy, and for children growing
The reed is bruised but not broken (2)

We hear words from the doctor spoken
The finitude of our lives, so hard at times, and so beautiful
The tension, the dimly burning wick not quenched
Looking up, the heat is on us,
Graciously He lifts our head when we lack
Faithfully, is our strength and stronghold

Bruised reed, to the world little purpose, flawed, of little use,

Struggling with doubt and fear, disheartened and ready to break. 

Christ’s tender, compassionate care comes alongside

Joy of the Lord, our strength and stronghold (3)

Clay on a wheel, unusable and flawed
I look down, to see clay, now being shaped, molded to the potter's liking (4)

Silhouette and shadow of mercy

I look up, listen closely, never will He forget (5)

I look down, head lowered, worry, pain, perplexing times,

I look up to “God, the Eternal One, who made the starry skies,

stretched them tight above and around; 

Who cast the shimmering globe of earth and filled it with life;

who gives breath and animates the people;" (6)

(bruised, faintly lit and clay, Glimpse poetry by Joe Holuta)

Footnotes:

(1) "What is bruised and bent, he will not break; he will not blow out a smoldering candle. Rather, he will faithfully turn his attention to doing justice. And though he faces obstacles, resistance, and great pressure, he will not crack; he will not give up until things are set right. Even the coastlands wait patiently for his instruction." Isaiah 42:3-4 - VOICE

(2) "a bruised reed he will not break, and a smoldering wick he will not quench.." Matt 12:20 ESV

(3)"And be not grieved and depressed, for the joy of the Lord is your strength and stronghold."        Nehemiah 8:10 AMP

(4) "So, I went down to the potter’s shop and found him making something on his wheel. And as I watched, the clay vessel in his hands became flawed and unusable. So the potter started again with the same clay. He crushed and squeezed and shaped it into another vessel that was to his liking. Jeremiah 18:3-4 VOICE

(5) Listen closely,and come even closer. My words will give life, for I will make a covenant with you that cannot be broken, a promise Of My enduring presence and support like I gave to David."

Isaiah 55:3

(6) What is bruised and bent, he will not break; he will not blow out a smoldering candle....God, the Eternal One, who made the starry skies, stretched them tight above and around; Who cast the shimmering globe of earth and filled it with life; who gives breath and animates the people; Who walks and talks with life-giving spirit has this to say: Eternal One: I am the Eternal One. By righteousness I have called you. I will take you by the hand and keep you safe. Isaiah 42:3.5-6 VOICE

“…Shocking, “Swift fly the years…”

Shocking, “swift fly the years”

Shocking were the words escaping me

Oak grove bench,

science hall in view ,

classes forty two years ago.

Sitting and considering this gap of time

 both uneasiness and good remembrance 

Younger days, time flying 

and it’s of no matter then

School years seem to take forever and a day

College days, go quickly , many firsts

1st love , 1st apartment 

Field across the road ,now a building  parking lot,

A place for a few to sunbathe back then

 And later get acquainted and build memories 

Postcollege days , work a priority 

First job 

thought it was a temporary stay

Meet your love in your place of work caring for mom

Marriage follows and life together 

Years pass in a flight- twelve years

Four branches grow so fast

Overflowing lives and loves

Soon to plant anew

Graduations , city suites,

Weddings, years soaring 

“Love that can’t be contained, cannot even be measured, 

love that goes on and on”

Life -so fast

Now walking more slowly, silvered by time,

Memories quickened by familiar scenes and shadows

Life is a mix of 

'the time is not passing' 

and 'the time flies so fast'.

“swift fly the years” (1)

"Time flies, but not memories." (2)

"Time flies when you are having fun."(3)

"Time meanwhile is flying, flying beyond recall." (4)

"Time flies over us, but leaves its shadow behind." (5)

Shocking, “Swift fly the years”,

Glimpse poetry by Joe Holuta 

1 Alexander Pope

2 Ika Natassa

3 Albert Einstein

4 Virgil, from his 3rd book of 'Georgics'

5 Nathaniel Hawthorne

“… three boys, grandsons…”

Three boys, grandsons 

I recall them interacting together at the beach 

The smiles, laughter,bright eyes

and challenging glances as well. 

Beautiful life, 

The sky is everywhere,

Brothers, cousins, friends…

Clear as the day today, 

I saw them as young adults interacting together, 

A bright summer day, laughing, smiling-strong,

Lighthearted with each other,

about time

I wanted to write these thoughts down, to record them,

so when they do get to be adults 

they can recall, this is us ,

and remember the mercies of God

I was with them talking and loving Life itself

 Thinking back to 

“Let this be recorded for future generations,for posterity, 

Write these things for future generations, so that they will praise the Lord.”

Exact and kind, laugh so funny, details matter,

Observant, humble, humor and considerate,

Thinker, smile ,grateful, 

Actually,

Three boys, three sweet souls,three paths

 to a future together 

Three Boys, Grandsons

Glimpse poetry, by Joe Holuta

“…What would I write this Fourth of July…”

What would I write this Fourth of July 

What would I write if I could write this Fourth of July

Would I write of the love I felt this morning at Nana’s home

Or the joy felt with my dear cousins, 

I hear freedom songs, 

that is all I have known

Independence Day, the cost to be free

Would I write of the Overflow of bounty ,

Summer picnic table full,

Fruit, veggie and pasta salad, every salad, 

Fresh corn , grilled hotdogs, cheeseburger- fresh lettuce tomato and onion, abundance 

S’mores and chocolate on lips and face 

Fireworks bursting in the night air 

Would I write of twin boys in the pool,

Cousins sliding and being tossed from the bounce house near the pool,

shrieks of summer joy

I could write of Cricket riding the waves, barking wanting to help the kids dunking in the water,

Archie looking cautiously on, not a sound 

What would I write if I could write this Fourth of July

I cannot write much of the past,

being so young

Life so far, so gloriously good 

Hope stirs in me, 

the chalk so colorful and free

I can feel that love of each other 

Shelter in this shadow 

Smiles on their faces

If I could write my dream in a cloud what would I write

 I would be a singer,

and what would I sing, 

maybe Andra Day

“We gonna walk it out

And move mountains

All we need, all we need is hope

And for that we have each other

And for that we have each other

And we will rise

We will rise…

I'll rise up

Rise like the day

I'll rise up

In spite of the ache

I will rise a thousand times again.”(1)

When i am a singer,

what would I sing, 

I would sing from the rooftops 

of Shelter in this shadow

Shelter in Highland Park, Illinois 

Shelter in the shadow 

for Jayland Walker, body riddled 

“I will find shelter in the shadow of Your wings

In the comfort of Your hands

Give me strength when I am weak

I will find refuge when the days of trouble come

When my fight isn't enough

I will run to You (2)

So much to sing and write 

this Fourth of July,

I could dream to write sweet poetry

like Pauli Murray, stirring the soul ,

Proving separate was not equal,

and giving women a voice,

Enduring, equal presence 

“…Hope is a song in a weary throat.
Give me a song of hope
And a world where I can sing it.
Give me a song of faith
And a people to believe in it.
Give me a song of kindliness
And a country where I can live it.
Give me a song of hope and love
And a brown girl’s heart to hear it.”(3)

What would I write this Fourth of July, (Glimpse poetry, by Joe Holuta)

About this poem: What would I write this Fourth of July is a poem written from view of my granddaughter Arlia Rose. We have had July 4th family times over the years with pool fun, summer foods and celebration of Independence Day. She writes of the love of Nana and cousins and the hope that stirs her, the shelter she feels among family. She then thinks if she could "dream" she would sing and move mountains of racism that existed since the founding of the USA, Rise up as sung by Audra Day. She would also sing of God being a shelter, though many have died because of racist hate crimes as in Higland Park IL July 4, 2022, and police crimes as in Jayland Walker killing June 27,2022. She dreams to write poetry like Pauli Murray who gave women a voice, and a song of hope and love in a country where she can live it, and a "brown girl’s heart to hear it.'' - Joe Holuta

  1) Rise Up 

-Andra Day

https://youtu.be/kNKu1uNBVkU

https://open.spotify.com/track/0tV8pOpiNsKqUys0ilUcXz?si=3zSzbx0tRzyHXYNPukMsLQ

(2) Shelter 

-Mosaic MSC

https://youtu.be/NAT25jB1xuA

https://open.spotify.com/track/0gj9nEv9Uqa2HJuhRdkybH?si=K96HxgPDRYSx586BYWnO_g

(3) Pauli Murray

Dark Testament Verse 8 (excerpt)

“…Lean into The Light…”

Lean into The Light 

The flower and the field lean

to the light

Obstacles and adverse times    bespeak the need to lean in.

Quickly scan and we see all of nature leaning to light, 

growth and glory.

The Hosta leaning more than the others for the light till blossoming.

The Tiger Lily leaning toward the bright sunshine in sunset-like color palette. 

The umbrella shielding- soaking it up to shelter

Both reflecting light

 

The petunias in the window box forever growing out and up toward the light

Windows brimming with color and life 

The foxglove tall and grand 

Toxic but helpful for the heart that beats broken 

Array of friends variety of reasons that give light and make the soul alive 

How do we soak in the light from others and also be a light for them 

Light giving life 

the daisy knows it 

the moon knows it too 

reflecting the Sun's light, making it appear bright in our sky

So we give and receive this reviving light, we give it freely 

Lean back, we do 

and we consider it all

In the middle of a Wheat field thistles grow, both so textured and beautiful colors 

The milling process, life itself

grain is cleaned, tempered, ground, sifted and separated, purified and on to sifting into a variety of flours

Just like this daily life we purpose on,

 creating our lives and space, in the middle, in the tension and shaking

 to breathe in and be stunning 

“Consider the lilies of the field and how they grow….their garments are stunning .And think about grassy fields —God adorns them so radiantly.

Lean into The Light

(Glimpse poetry, by Joe Holuta)

Lean Back 

The Worship Initiative, Davy Flowers

https://open.spotify.com/track/6JNk5mVEUSna9UbHc4oj0z?si=IyLLgmAjRW-ZWGxEyTUtVA

https://youtu.be/E2hag4w2j4M