Today’s Cloudburst poem, first in a long time (I’m afraid to look at the archives), started as a prayer on United Prayer, this morning:
Lord of life, when at the start or end, or in the midst, of living, we hail you as the Giver of breath, who animates the beating heart.
As I wrote the prayer, the iambic meter just kept rolling and seemed to be asking for a poetic form. I left it for a while, but kept getting drawn back to it. So over the next few hours, I sketched out a sonnet, the form suggested by having read earlier this morning Wordsworth’s “The World Is Too Much with Us,” published in 1807.
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• The last painter that Sr. Joao brought was a disaster; he’s back now to fix what the guy mucked up. The Missus will be off to an appointment at 3:30, so I’m headed back to house shortly before that, so she can leave.
• Remember that Brazilian flag flying from the top of the apartment building under construction? The day after Brazil lost in the World Cup, the flag came down. Patriotism didn’t outlast the disappointment.
• Learned that Tyndale House commissioned a special typefont for the NLT, called Lucerna. I’ve never enjoyed a Bible so easy to read, easy on the eyes, as my NLT. (The edition I have is a pleasure to handle in every way.) I wish I had the NET Bible in this font. I wish I had this font in my collection.
• Wallpaper that greets me when I boot up: “Time.” The maxim: “How we spend our days is how we spend our lives.” — Annie Dillard