Who among us does not have dreams that this year will be different?
It is not over,
There are always newer skies
God can throw stars.
You enter the
extraordinary by way of the ordinary.
In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit.
Even a thousand miles inland you can
smell the sea and hear the mewing of gulls if you give thought to it.
To live with desire is to
choose vulnerability over self-protection; to
admit our desire and seek help
beyond ourselves is even more vulnerable.
As we learned how to read,
Were we beginning to forget to look,
Our young eyes caught in tangles of print
So that imagination was choked? Were we
trapped at that remove from ourselves?
Or did we begin to see a new way, with eyes
that widened in the amazement of reverie,
Memory, invention? As we peered
Between the words, could we make out
Shapes and colors beyond them?
Language is primarily a means of
revelation, both for God and for us. Using words, God
reveals himself to us. Using words,
we reveal ourselves to God and to another. By
means of language, the entire
cycle of speaking and listening, both God and his
Word-created men and women are able to
reveal vast interiors otherwise inaccessible to us.
One learns first of all in beach living the art of
shedding; how little one can get
along with, not how much.
knowing again that
summer and afternoon
live and endure
only out of the
working depths of
winter and morning.
Bewildered in our timely dwelling place,
Where we arrive by work, we stay by grace.
Now at last they were
beginning Chapter One of the Great Story, which
no one on earth has read: which goes on
for ever: in which every chapter is
better than the one before.
A bit about Found poems:
Found poetry creates space for mystery and beauty and unexpected connections. In reading prose of my writing heroes, a poetic tune springs up, extending a hand to dance to my imagination.
Over the years, poets, storytellers, fiction authors, and nonfiction authors invited me to drift off into other lands in the hammock of their tales.
Because of their words, I fell in love with words.
Because of their questions, I came up with questions of my own.
Like Fern in Charlotte’s Web, I want to know where Papa is going with that ax. Why is Jo grumbling about a present-less Christmas as Little Women starts? Playing with found lines, authors summon me to the challenge of writing poetically, senses alert, ready for the unexpected to appear on the page.
Found poem, lines lifted from literature or other sources, offer springboards to read across a variety of types of literature and stretch me to new perspectives. To create a found poem—a collage of words—choose full lines, a favorite quote, one word or maybe two, or phrases that delights you.
Play around with others’ words. Grow your found poem any way you so desire and discover new dimensions of your creativity.
- “Who among us”: Ann Weems, Kneeling in Bethlehem, (Philadelphia, PA: The Westminster Press, 1980), p. 65.
- “It is not over”: Ann Weems, Kneeling in Bethlehem, (Philadelphia, PA: The Westminster Press, 1980), p. 85.
- “You enter the ordinary”: Frederick Buechner, Telling the Truth: The Gospel as Tragedy, Comedy & Fairy Tale, (New York, NY: HarperSanFrancisco, 1977), p. 78.
- “In a hole in the ground”: J. R. R. Tolkien, The Hobbit, (New York, NY: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1937), p. 3
- “Even a thousand miles”: Frederick Buechner, Whistling in the Dark: An ABC Theologized, (San Francisco, CA: Harper & Row, Publishers, 1988), p. 62.
- “To live with desire”: John Eldredge, The Journey of Desire, (Nashville, TN: Thomas Nelson Publishing, 2000), p. 59.
- “As we learned how to read”: Luci Shaw, Accompanied by Angels, (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Co., 2006), p. 50.
- “Language is primarily a means of revelation”: Eugene H. Peterson, Tell It Slant: a Conversation on the Language of Jesus in His Stories and Prayers, (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Co., 2008), p. 10.
- “One learns first of all”: Anne Morrow Lindbergh, Gift from the Sea, (New York, NY: Pantheon Books, 1955), p. 30.
- “knowing again that”: Rod Jellema, Incarnality: The Collected Poems, (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 2010), p. 128.
- “Where we arrive by work”: Wendell Berry, A Timbered Choir, (New York, NY: Counterpoint, 1998), p. 59.
- “now at last”: C. S. Lewis, The Last Battle, (New York, NY: MacMillan Publishing CO., Inc., 1956), p. 174.