"Snow and Wind"

To me, the holiday season includes memories of snow and wind, family gatherings in Michigan, where, no matter how intense the weather, we always gathered at my Grandma's house to celebrate. As an adult, those memories revive with each new 'winter weather advisory,' and, with a lovely fire in the fireplace, all outside hostilities melt away.

Photos taken with my Canon SureShot in Danbury, CT

Snow and Wind

Snow speaks silently,

caresses my heart

with memories,

tickles my soul

with anticipation,

blends with ice

to generate adrenalin

focus.

Howling wind

erases impressions

with its jealous grasp

stings my cheeks

wraps around my bones.

My body shivers

to generate adrenalin

warmth.

Fire beyond the hearth

stoked with trees 

that once shaded, once housed,

once bore sparkling icicles

now draws me into its 

crackling core

to melt adrenalin

dreams.

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

To hear me recite this poem, click HERE. 

Trains! A Phantasmagorical Journey

Grand Central Station, NYC

Photo from Google Images

One week, my poetry group leader asked us to consider taking the train. Well, my trains of thought below switch tracks now and then: from London's Victoria Station Underground to the New York City's Metro North, which transported me from Connecticut via Brewster, NY to Grand Central Station, NY City, a phantasmagorical experience, centered with love. 

Phantasmagoria

My train of thought travels

along rickety tracks

holding onto every second

of life, whirling images

in hues of benevolence,

common sense,  and innocence

trying to make sense of it all,

love

Thrilling, drilling,

milling, willing,

this train has made stops:

friendships, family,

laughter, tears

love

Dedication, rumination,

allocation, tribulation,

abandonment, containment

achievement, bereavement

love.

Once, I rode the train in London.

It stopped suddenly, and we

were told to evacuate.

The bomb did not detonate!

Divine Love

I stepped through a city of bedlam

eyes of fear, fearless, far from home

found my way to the British Library

back to my daughter’s smiling eyes

alive and satisfied, determined:

Loved

Clickety-click, the clock ticks

in synchronicity with New York City.

Passengers wait, date, relate, abate

whirling past the swans, evergreens,

quaint boutiques of Chappaqua:

country love

to Harlem’s door,

racing past graffiti,

colors smearing, words jeering

interlocking letters on a wall

textual shout outs: anxious, proud

confused, fused, words:

city love

Bridge to tunnel, dark, lights blink

so many tracks, interlace under

this train slowly squeals to a stop,

doors open; we walk through the gates

under a Grand Central firmament

to blend in with the multitude

and I am one...

love.

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

(You can hear my reading of this by clicking HERE.)

Divine Breath

The Holy Trinity  

by Corrado Giaquinto, circa 1754

One morning, I was inspired by the homily of our local priest, 'Fr. Tim.' He was referring to the Holy Spirit and the Hebrew term for spirit: breath. Hence, I penned the following: 

Divine Breath

Enter the Holy chamber; 

kneel before Divinity, 
present on the altar 

in the form of a simple candle.
Surrounded by a feeling of His welcoming Spirit,
a Blessed breath causes one 

to inhale: 
the Cleansing Air of Love and Forgiveness,
to exhale: 

the chaos of hate and compromise.
Over and over, 

this choice is made:
to breathe in the Holy Spirit, 
from His Divine Breath: 

essential to all of humanity, 
the salve that soothes the wounded soul.
Breathe in. 

Breathe out.

© Jeanne Iris Lakatos

To hear my reading of this vers, please click HERE.

Dusk

Below, I have written a poem based on a photograph, as an example of Ekphrasis.

My photograph is of the beautiful East Lake in Danbury, Connecticut, at sunset, just before dusk. This lake has a very similar appearance to Walden Pond in Massachusetts. I took this photograph when the lake was full. 

East Lake, Danbury, Connecticut.

Dusk

Indigo pond

reflects

a hopeful, graying sky

shades of peach and blue

intermingle 

with soft, fleecy clouds

framing the Peace and Love

that harken my heart 

dreaming

 of possibilities...

Dusk.

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

To hear me recite this verse, please click HERE. 

Sandy Hook Elementary School Tragedy in Newtown, Connecticut

(Photo from Google Images)

On a Friday morning, thirteen years ago, as I sat at my desk, grading final papers, I received word of a shooting in a town nearby. The first news indicated that there were multiple shooters and one or more were unaccounted for. Overhead, helicopters circled the university as ambulances whaled down the street to Danbury Hospital, located two blocks away from my office.

By day's end, this entire area was in mourning, for the beautiful town of Newtown was now in the history books, not as the idyllic southern New England town we all love and cherish around here, but in the same league with Aurora and Columbine, Colorado and scores of other towns over which this cloud of horror has shrouded. As the names became revealed to us, not one person in the area did not have some connection with the victims or their families. We're all in mourning in the Newtown-Danbury area, once given the title as the 'Safest town in the State.'

No further words will come to me. Please pray for peace, understanding and the power of love this holiday season.

Blessings,
Dr. Jeanne Iris

Memorial of Saint Lucia (Lucy): December 13

 

Painting by Francesco del Cossa, circa 1474

The Story of Saint Lucia (Lucy)

from: 

 https://www.stlucy-campbell.org/about-staint-lucy/

December 13th is our patron saint’s feast day! Saint Lucy (Santa Lucia) was a young virgin martyr in Syracuse, Sicily (Italy) in the late 200s A.D. who was put to death in 304 A.D. Excavation in Syracuse revealed a tomb dating to the 4th century with an inscription that it belonged to St. Lucy (her relics were removed hundreds of years after her death and are believed to currently be in Venice, Italy). Beyond this, little factual information is known about St. Lucy. Her name, Lucia in Italian, is believed to be derived from the Latin Lux, a term for “light.” The earliest known written information about St. Lucy’s story is from the late 400s, Acts of the Martyrs, which indicates there was already veneration shown to her by that time. By the 6th century, legends about St. Lucy had spread throughout Italy and other parts of Europe. Although the stories vary somewhat, the common theme in all of them is that St. Lucy dedicated herself to Christ and to serving the poor, which angered the pagan to whom she was betrothed. He denounced her as a Christian to the authorities, who then attempted first to drag her to a house of prostitution and then, when they could not physically move her, to burn her – which was also a failure. Ultimately, they ended St. Lucy’s life with a dagger or sword to her throat.

St. Lucy’s legend holds that her eyes were gauged out and God then provided her with new eyes. This came about, it is said, because her pagan suitor loved her beautiful eyes. In some versions of this story, St. Lucy plucked out her eyes herself and gave them to her suitor; in other versions, her eyes were removed by her persecutors. St. Lucy is often depicted holding a small plate with two eyes on it. She is the patron saint of the blind.

Legend has it that St. Lucy delivered wheat and bread to the poor and homebound, and possibly to Christians staying in the catacombs, often in the darkness of night to avoid detection. She would carry a lamp or wear a crown of candles (to free her hands for carrying food) to light her way. Because of this, the lamp and wreath of candles are symbols of St. Lucy. Hence the lamp that has long been a symbol of our parish.

According to legends of the Middle Ages in a couple different locations in Italy, including Sicily, ships filled with wheat came into harbors on St. Lucy’s feast day, saving the people from a famine. A Sicilian tradition based on this legend is to make a soup and a dessert with wheat berries on St. Lucy’s feast day. In Croatia, Christmas wheat is planted in a pot (indoors) on St. Lucy’s feast day. By Christmas Eve, the wheat shoots have emerged and the wheat is placed next to the manger scene as a gift to Jesus and a reminder for us that God feeds our souls with the Eucharist and our bodies with wheat.

Likewise, according to Scandinavian legend of the Middle Ages, during a terrible famine in southern Sweden and on the darkest day of the year, people saw a boat sailing across Lake Vannern. St. Lucia was at its prow, dressed in white and glowing with an unearthly light. When the boat came to the shore, she handed out enough sacks of wheat for the people to have bread through the winter. Scandinavian St. Lucia traditions include making “Lussekatter,” a slightly sweet saffron breakfast bread shaped in specific ways, and visiting the poor, sick, or homebound to serve the Lussekatter with coffee and to sing the Santa Lucia song.

There are many other traditions associated with St. Lucy in various cultures that were brought to the Americas and are still celebrated today, from the East Coast (Society of St. Lucy of Syracuse in Hartford, CT) to the Midwest (Sicilian Italian-based St. Lucy festival in Omaha, NE) to the West Coast (Scandinavian Santa Lucia service and celebration at St. John’s Lutheran Church in Sacramento, CA).   All the traditions incorporate symbolic meaning of St. Lucy as the bearer of Christ’s light in the darkness of winter from her feast day (Dec. 13) until His birth at Christmas.

While it may be hard to distinguish fact from legend surrounding our patron saint, one thing is certain: This 3rd century Christian dedicated her life to Christ and to serving others and is an example to us for how we can use our time, talents, and treasure to carry the light of Christ to others in their time of need.

“To God’s servants the right words will not be wanting, for the Holy Spirit speaks in us. . . All who live piously and chastely are temples of the Holy Spirit.” –Attributed to St. Lucy

Harmony of the Spheres

http://www.pagesofink.com/images/2008/DancingSky_HarmonyOfTheSpheres.jpg

The following is an excerpt from a paper I presented at the Mid-Atlantic Conference for Irish Studies, years ago. I've placed information  about this same topic on my other blog, which can be reached by clicking on the photo to the right.  

Human beings have an inherent need to interact with one another. Yet, they often find themselves struggling with what appears to be the truth of their perceptions. This ambivalence leads to the categorizing of experiences as a way to manage personal reactions. Philosophers, such as Immanuel Kant and Carl Jung, as well as mathematicians, such as Pythagoras and Kepler, have clarified this management in terms of music, more specifically, the music of the spheres.

This concept illustrates that human communication parallels strict mathematical components associated with harmonics. To clarify the concept of harmony of the spheres, one can consider a musical tone that contains the original resonating frequency with overtones creating precise harmonic variations.

Pythagoras’ theory contained the idea that there was a distinct mathematical configuration, establishing a relationship of the harmonic distances between the planets. These harmonics were considered the substance of a planetary influence on the human psyche.

Centuries later, Johannes Kepler clarified this theory with his discovery that harmonic energy emanates from the sun, and there exists an exact harmonic relationship between each planet. Philosophers of the eighteenth century, such as Immanuel Kant, connect Kepler’s theory to the concept of human consciousness.

Thus, music of the spheres represents the harmonics of human thought whereby one idea, emanating from a human being, extends to another throughout the centuries, and overtones or nuances of thought create a new harmonic of the original conception. This new harmonic, then, resonates with another interpretation, and soon, there are many new concepts formed that connect with the original resonating thought.