A ROSE BY THE LIVING WATERS

"By a voice he saith: Hear me, ye divine offspring, and bud forth as the rose planted by the brooks of waters. [18] Give ye a sweet odour as frankincense. [19] Send forth flowers, as the lily, and yield a smell, and bring forth leaves in grace, and praise with canticles, and bless the Lord in his works." (Ecclesiaticus, a.k.a. Sirach, 39:17-18)
  

I am a rose by the living waters
My roots reach deep into the river’s bed
My thorny arms reach out to the heavens

Angelic choirs descend from the heavens
their arms full of graces poured like waters
upon the earth. I quicken in my bed

Glorious is the sunrise warming my bed
Blessed are the rains sent by the heavens
This humble flower, my own Lord waters

Pure waters  cleanse my bed to yield roses for the heavens.

BY THE LIVING WATERS

“Blessed be the man that trusteth in the Lord, and the Lord shall be his confidence. And he shall be as a tree planted in the waters, that spreadeth out his roots towards moisture; and it shall not fear when the heat cometh. And the leaf thereof shall be green, and in the time of drought it shall not be solicitous, neither shall it cease at anytime to bring forth fruit.”

~Jer. 17:7-8

showers

There was a time in my life when water was the motif of my dreams.  Dirty, smelly waters meant things were not alright within me.  Clean water meant things would be okey.  Mornings would often find me wondering the nature of water in my dreams.  The latter, of course, brought me consolation while the former kept me thinking about what could be wrong with my life at the moment.

There was one water motif that I really really liked:  a sprinkling of rain.   I think I was praying for a particular favor – passing the bar exam, perhaps?  Anyway, it was one of those life-changing things for me.  That night, I had a dream that I walked up a set of steps and a light drizzle was on me.  Needless to say, I felt calm when I woke up.  Somehow, I knew that whether I got what I prayed for or not, I would be just fine.

wet rosesI did not know why water would play such a role in my subconscious.  I was not a water-lover after all.  I was not the one to hanker for the beach or a swimming pool, and such.  I did like water views though – rivers, falls, the like.  Now, thinking about it, the significance of water in my faith may have a lot to do with my water dreams.  In the Catholic Church, water is used in Baptism.  It is the physical manifestation of the cleansing of the soul that was brought about by the Sacrament of Baptism.  Holy Water is a sacramental that is often used in ordinary blessing and in more extreme cases, exorcism.   In the Bible, the Lord Jesus identifies Himself as the Living Water.  A person who is friends with God can be said to be planted by the living waters.  When I was younger and single, I had more time to think about the state of my soul and such.  So, I guess the image of water, as a spiritual matter, was, whether consciously or not, foremost in my mind.

goldencelebration

These days, water rarely plays a role in my dreams.  Perhaps, a different state of life has led me away from more spiritual to more mundane concerns.  Even so,  it is ever my fervent desire to be like a tree planted by living waters.  However, since I have a special fondness for roses,  I may have to express my prayer in these terms:

"By a voice he saith: Hear me, ye divine offspring, and bud forth as the rose planted by the brooks of waters. [18] Give ye a sweet odour as frankincense. [19] Send forth flowers, as the lily, and yield a smell, and bring forth leaves in grace, and praise with canticles, and bless the Lord in his works." (Ecclesiaticus, a.k.a. Sirach, 39:17-18)


Daily Prompt:  Water

PURE

after the rains
PURITY AFTER THE RAINS

Crystalline waters
reflecting mirrors of light
so is a pure heart

breeze
PURE, CLEAN AIR

Whispering wind
Quickens the spirit
breath of life

lilac
PURE FRAGRANCE

Scented breeze
We breathe deeply
the scent of pure souls.

WPC:  Pure

PILGRIM

THE SLEEPING GYPSY, 1897, by Henri Rousseau
Magpie Tales’ Prompt for Mag 209

The voice,
terrible as a roaring lion
sweeter than a song,
sent me
to the unknown
life
in exile
is a trial
by illusion –
shadow is light;
lie is truth;
Truth means Nothing.
I
witness
to Nothing
was cast away
into the desert
I fled
with nothing
and the Voice
above the din
calling me
Home.
At last,
I could lay down
my weary head
yield my weary soul
then kiss the dust
that would take me back.

~~~~~

Please click the photo above to go to MAGPIE TALES.

I am sorry I have not been to your pages lately.  All of us here have been stricken by spring fever, almost literally.   The bug has been busy making us uncomfortable.  Meanwhile, we are on a little spring break and hopefully, I will be able to catch up with you this weekend.

As always, thank you for dropping by. 🙂

MOTHERS

Visions play before my eyes like a movie
hale and brimstone
of the mother kind
a hurting child, crying alone
wanting food, and shelter, the comforts of home
a sick little one, without a mother’s care
or one flattened by a bullet coming from nowhere
I did not ask, but their terror is mine
in each child’s face, my own child’s shine.

Oh fragile bodies, vessels of hope
fate does deal you torments
that bring strong man to their knees
and shatter mothers’ gentle hearts.

Oftentimes, I find myself
cowering inside
and pray that hurt and peril
will never visit my child –
So, I watch them like a hawk
forbid all of their rough play
put them in the care of their angels
to keep them from harm’s way.

Yet, once, there was a Mother
whose heart was pierced by swords
How could she have born the shadow
of her Son’s death, as foretold?

Her love for her child
magnified the pain in her soul
her child’s suffering
could they be, instead, her own?

For all Her sorrow
she embraced the passion of her Son
with no consolation
but knowing that the Father’s will was  done.

Then came that blessed morning
when Heaven was opened wide
Her Son’s victory over death
won for men the eternal reward.

~~~~~

This was written for Dverse Pub’s Meeting the Bar: Your Voice.  But I did not make the cut-off time. 🙂