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INSPIRATION – 15 December 2008

For today I’ve chosen this poem that I found in a book of religious poetry published in 1926:

John B. Tabb (1845–1909)

No hint upon the hill top shows
The flush of climbing feet;
But where the heaven above it glows
Triumphal glances meet,
Anon to vanish in the plain,
And leave the hill its heaven again.

No sign celestial hath the soul
Its coming dreams to tell,
Unheralded the tidal roll
Returns – a rhythmic swell,
Anon with silence, as with sand,
To strew the surf-forsaken strand.

For a large collection of poems and stories, visit: 

"Joyful Curmudgeon"
An oxymoron?
No! I see all the beauty of God's creation and I'm joyful.  At the same time, I see all the suffering and corruption going on in the world, and feel called to help expose and end it so that we may have true peace and compassion.

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