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Hearing God’s Word in Creation

27 Apr

After a long absence, I thought I would share with my readers this poem “The Word”,  by the 19th century American poet Richard Realf, which was a focal part of my meditation and prayer a couple of days ago. I continue to be moved by ruminate over its message even today.  Here the poet sweetly lauds the Cosmic Word that reverberates throughout all of Creation for all that have ears to hear.

“The Word”

O Earth! Thou hast not any wind that blows 

Which is not music; every weed of thine 

Pressed rightly flows in aromatic wine; 

And every humble hedgerow flower that grows, 

And every little brown bird that doth sing, 

Hath something greater than itself, and bears 

A living Word to every living thing, 

Albeit it hold the Message unawares. 

All shapes and sounds have something which is not 

Of them: a Spirit broods amid the grass; 

Vague outlines of the Everlasting Thought 

Lie in the melting shadows as they pass; 

The touch of an Eternal Presence thrills 

The fringes of the sunsets and the hills. 

 

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An Anniversary Poem by Tom Webber

3 Nov
You can find out more about Tom & Barb's music by visiting their website: www.fairwebberfolkmusic.com

You can find out more about Tom & Barb Webber’s music by visiting their website: http://www.fairwebberfolkmusic.com

To Barb: An Anniversary Poem

I love you this moment
This small moment —
One drop of the tide of moments
That make the ocean of our life together.

We cannot know its distant shore
‘Though it seems we are on a long journey
On this tiny vessel we call “marriage”.
We do not know whence our journey first began
Nor when we will one day land.
(But we do have this one moment!)

We do not know its depths,
Nor what peril lies ahead.
But we feel the high tides
And the low ebbs
As we ride the crest of this moment along
To some unseen shore past the horizon.

What really does it matter?
This moment is all I have to give you.
For the ocean would be so much less
Were it diminished drop by drop.

So I love you this moment
And give you this moment.
Perhaps the ocean is in this single drop of time.

(c) Thomas C. Webber, November 1990


My wife Barb and I celebrated our silver wedding anniversary today! It has been a wonderful journey together so far, and I am looking forward to all the years we will share in the future. We have filled it with a simple but full life centered on family (we have four lovely children) and our shared love of music which we have been performing together since the late 80s.

I wrote the poem above to commemorate our first anniversary together, and I shared it again with Barb in a homemade card. The message, I believe, will never lose its meaning for me. I share it you, my reader, with the hope that it might likewise speak to your journey of love.

Peace,

Tom

 

 

“Autumn Leaves Do Not Shiver” (new original poem)

11 Nov

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“Autumn Leaves Do Not Shiver”

Autumn leaves do not shiver when they fall
but leap like little lads of yesteryear
who, when boisterously barrelling into a pond like tiny cannonballs,
and making their splash into water lilies,
never gave a damn about how far it is to the bottom.
For them, “tis the leap that counts,” after all!

No — these leaves do not shiver when they fall:
To fall is their call, after all!

How else are leaves to parade their fiery blaze of color,
that treasure hidden long before
under the zesty, green garments of Spring?

Ah — but it is WE who shiver —
(or rather, are SHAKEN out of complicity)
as we watch (this spectacle) and wonder IF —
when our time comes to leap:
will we likewise loosen our grip
that we might free fall under Winter’s magic spell
and finally promenade — with one last hurrah —
our own triumphant splash of exultant color?

(c) Thomas C. Webber 11/11/2013

“The Great I AM” (a brief poem)

25 Oct

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The great I Am
Is the ISNESS
Of all that is.

Each IS
As He IS

Though we
Might not
See IT
Such as
It IS.

(c) Thomas C. Webber 4/16/2013

“The New Day Greets Me” (original poem)

17 Oct

sunrise over misty rolling hills

The New Day Greets Me

The new day greets me like a middle-eastern girl —
A young Bedouin virgin, enshrouded in mystery.

A single amber eye peers out to charm
And beckons me from behind the cerulean veil
Which drapes and falls over her woolen green robe,
Revealing barely a hint of her rolling beauty and form.

Oh how I find myself ineluctably drawn to follow
With hopes of savoring her promised delight!

By Thomas C. Webber
2/27/02

“Bluer Than Blue” (original poem)

16 Oct

Night-Train

“Bluer Than Blue”

As the harvest moon peers behind shudders
of mist-blown clouds on this autumn night,
watching, as I hear the distant rumble of your train
with its lonesome whistle piercing the silence of my solitude.
I am startled out of my drunken stupor and tears shed
through a thousand seasons of regret.

And I am left to ponder:
Is this the final depot of your long journey?
And will you be waiting, weary of your load,
ready now to take to my arms if I come for you?
If not, that celestial spy will surely know
what I am . . . bluer than blue.

By Tom Webber
Tuesday, September 7, 2010

“My Heart Is A Tree” (original poem)

10 Oct

Silouetted Tree Against Night Sky

My Heart Is A Tree

A tree cracks the evening sky
Standing tall through the turning of seasons
Yawning and yearning to break out of itself.

It is fanned out, standing on tiptoe
Groping for the sky like a trembling hand
Reaching for the elusive harvest moon
Which drifts lazily by across night’s velvety curtain
Hoping to catch even one fleeting movement of light
Before the coming golden dawn.

(c) Tom Webber
4:45am on 2/22/2002

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