My pastoral career
So I got to perform the wedding of my friends Steve and Robyn last month, and Charla Myers' is the only picture of me in my preacher garb I can bear to look at, because I am so very vain and complicated.One of the things I read to keep from boring the assembled guests to death was the W.B. Yeats poem "The Song of Wandering Aengus":
I WENT out to the hazel wood,
Because a fire was in my head,
And cut and peeled a hazel wand,
And hooked a berry to a thread;
And when white moths were on the wing,
And moth-like stars were flickering out,
I dropped the berry in a stream
And caught a little silver trout.
When I had laid it on the floor
I went to blow the fire a-flame,
But something rustled on the floor,
And someone called me by my name:
It had become a glimmering girl
With apple blossom in her hair
Who called me by my name and ran
And faded through the brightening air.
Though I am old with wandering
Through hollow lands and hilly lands,
I will find out where she has gone,
And kiss her lips and take her hands;
And walk among long dappled grass,
And pluck till time and times are done,
The silver apples of the moon,
The golden apples of the sun.
(I will wait until their seventh anniversary to read "The Second Coming.")
posted
by Marty Barrett at Wednesday, August 03, 2005
3 Comments:
hi marty..I didnt tell you that martha went to a bible camp for a week in rumney nh and the nite before the fam stayed at the neighboring bible conference center..we tripped the am fantastic by going to services and amening the visiting missionary..we felt we had traveled far to baptist bush country..there were even references to boston liberals...amazing cultural experience...you look like you looove that good book...anne(first time blogger)
I am now skilled at healing through fiber optic cables.
AMEN, Brothah!!!!!!
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