The Collins home has various degrees of the bleurghs. Colds and sickness and general meh.
But! I was pleased to hear this morning that I had passed the latest module on my degree. I held off on signing up to the next as I wasn’t sure whether the play that I had written about the life of John Harper, preacher on board the Titanic, would be accepted. Apparently it was just fine! Which means I have now signed up my next module – poetry.
This got me thinking about the time before we moved to Kelowna. The time of words, songs, poems and the whispers of God through people to reassure us as we moved on.
Those words combined formed this image of words which has held us on the days when we wonder.
Wander? No way. These are the days when the words speak louder than ever.
Now, enjoy this poem. Written by a friend of ours, Andy, our town centre poet, a wandering bard, a family friend who would sit at my parents table and talk about life and its complexities.
Au Revoir, You Collins’s (With Apologies To Bob Dylan)
It’s not a simple twist of fate,
Or an idiot wind that carries you to Canada.
I’d say its receptivity, desire,
Faith and humble stamina.
You’re blowing in the wind,
You don’t know where it comes from, where it’s going.
If it becomes a hurricane, the Spirit’s in the blowing.
Blood of the Lamb on the tracks
Of a partially trodden path,
Like the rolling away of a stone.
Far from us, you’ll bear His fruit,
Far from being complete unknowns.
Remembering us, you may get briefly tangled up in blue:
Subterranean, homesick –
If so, the Son will see you through.
You’ll have a shelter from the storm,
Knock- knock- knocking on heaven’s door,
Held by enduring friendship,
Within God’s abundant store.
Blond on blond on blond on blond on blond on blond,
On highways that you visit and revisit;
Don’t think twice, babes, it’s alright,
Yours are prayers and pleasures, stuff of life,
The joy of the Holy Spirit.
God is making planet waves.
Don’t feel lonesome when you go.
Under the maple leaf, Jesus saves,
The train is coming – why should it be slow?
Constant, He is rearranging:
For the times they are a-changing.
© Andy Mullis 10/06/2010
Why not remind yourself today of the words around your life.
How many Bob Dylan songs can you spot in the poem? Answer in comments…that is if you can find a way through WordPress hoops. Goodness.
See you tomorrow,