Ekphrasis: My poem, "Haven" and the Church of St. Stephen the Martyr

Today, December 26, is the Feast of Saint Stephen. 

Below is a photo of the Church of St. Stephen the Martyr in Opotiki, New Zealand. This picture brought to mind the introduction to a collection of short stories that I will complete... one day. The poem accompanying this photo is a conversion of a portion of my prose introduction to poetic form.

Church of St Stephen the Martyr, Opotiki, ca 1910-1930

"Behold, I see heaven open and the Son of man standing at the right hand of God." 

(Acts 7:56) kjv

~ St. Stephen’s words at his theophany

Haven

They beckon 

the weary-hearted and calloused,

“Come and sit with me.”

Rows of empty pews

moor at a small altar,

each one anchored with a kneeler. 

Her candle lit,
she takes her usual seat

in the second row,

hoists the kneeler, 

then quietly moves it

to the wood floor,

genuflects in the Holy Presence, 

and blesses herself.

With eyes lowered,

she steers her troubled vessel

on an ethereal air,

through prayerful sighs

to the Haven of hope,

His Almighty Promise.

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

(My reading of this poem is on Pod-omatic at the bottom of this page.)

Winged Inspiration

Photos taken in my garden

Winged Inspiration

Today,

a bee flies wistfully,

nectar gathering for the hive,

Today,

a butterfly shares the space

of time and floral beauty,

collecting heavenly nourishment.

Today,

the lavender grows more alluring

in service

to its insect guests.

Today, 

the hummingbird sips  

sweet nectar from the loving, giving 

Rose of Sharon blossom. 

And as my eyes are permitted to view

this treasured scene

of serenity and industry,

I am compelled

to make a difference

for Tomorrow.

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

To hear me recite this, please click HERE.

Strength Within

Since transformation is part of my blog's title, I composed this villanelle, containing the poetic framework creating a linguistic form of life's ebb and flow. This poem's theme is that a loving, driving, force that emanates from the Divine, can bring a transforming strength, and I hope you enjoy it. 

Photo is of East Lake, Danbury, CT

Strength Within

Draw from Love that brings your verve its aim,

for gently comes the mission that will bring

the strength within that only you can name.

Your passion resonates hope; now proclaim

the song that desires your voice, and boldly sing.

Draw from Love that brings your verve its aim!

Intricacy builds clarity as the frame 

of delicately interlaced might, healing

the strength within that only you can name.

 

Travail with challenge evolves, as the game

of motivating resolve becomes your freeing.

Draw from Love that brings your verve its aim.

Benevolence and wonder: Adventure’s name

and yours when life moves on by loving

the strength within that only you can name.

Acknowledge from your heart that you can't tame

the Sacred Grace from unleashing torment’s cling.

Draw from Love that brings your verve its aim,

the strength within that only you can name.

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

To hear me recite this villanelle, please click HERE. 

The Mill

Long ago, a friend told me about this beautiful mill, located in Floyd County, Virginia. I found a picture of it in a history book and saw the serene beauty of this sight, so I took out my oil paints and painted my own version of the mill: Mabry Mill is its name. Below are two photos. One is a photo from Google Images. The other is my painting of the lovely Mabry Mill in Floyd County, Virginia. The poem revolves around this stalwart mill.

The 'melodious Lark' in the poem refers to Ralph Vaughn Williams' masterpiece, The Lark Ascending. You can hear the lovely melody if you click HERE. 

Photo of Mabry Mill, Virginia

 from Google Images

 

My painting of Mabry Mill, Virginia

                                             

The Mill

Quietly and peaceful

 The Mill does stand

In harmony with God's land,

and in its tranquil solitude

the melodious Lark 

sings its sweet etude. 

All the while, 

the Mill in steady repose sings: 

"I'll be here

as long as the wind does carry

His song through the realms of time. 

I'll be here for you ~ 

My love will ne'er weary

for your spirit 

inspires

my Joy. 

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

(To hear my reading of this poem on Pod-omatic, click HERE.)

Mercy Otis Warren, Muse of the American Revolution, 1776

Painting of Mercy Otis Warren

Mercy Otis Warren, given the title by some historians of Muse of the American Revolution, is often neglected in the U.S. historical memory. However, her motivation for contributing numerous literary works on the subject of independence demonstrates virtues found in the common individual while pointing out the discrepancies in a non-representational government. In her 1773 play, The Adulateur, Warren describes the issue of individual rights through the speech of her main character, Brutus:

 

The change how drear! The sullen ghost of bondage

Stalks full in view—already with her pinions,

She shades the affrighted land—the insulting soldiers

Tread down our choicest rights; while hoodwinked justice

Drops her scales, and totters from her basis.

Thus torn with nameless wounds, my bleeding country

Demands a tear – that tear I’ll freely give her. [1]

Using the rebellious poetic format of blank verse, Warren creates an image of the capture of justice, illustrating the conception that human beings might be inherently good, but their thirst for power could cause a diminishing of spiritual truth, thus leading to contrived allegiances to governments and other forms of false leadership. 

 

We thank such brave intelligent writers as Mercy Otis Warren for their insights regarding historical perspectives of justice. 

---

[1] Mercy Otis Warren, The Adulateur, Act I, Scene I, Boston: New Printing Office, 1773.

Frontal Acumen

photo taken by me in Danbury, Connecticut, U.S.A.

In a recent year, we had an extraordinary weather pattern here in Connecticut. As a front rapidly moved through the area, the skies filled with color, then torrential downpours, then sun and warm temperatures. Then, we were back in the freezing zone with snow predicted. As Mark Twain commented once, "if you don't like the weather in New England, just wait a few minutes." Okay, that's the weather report. What does this all mean philosophically?  

Human consciousness continually evolves, and as we move through our daily activities, nuances affect us in ways that sometimes we don't even realize until other events bring these subtle revelations into focus, providing clarity and introspection.

Frontal Acumen

Such grandeur surges

in a moment of wonder: 

guiding, hoping, gusting, 

winds envelop 

swirling reality 

shaking dreams loose,  

sparking an idea 

with Authority. 

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

The Shy One

The poem below deals with a childhood hurdle that eventually led me to grow in confidence: the family tag of 'the shy one.' 

a photo of pensive me, 2009

The Shy One

“Jeanne is the shy one,”

explained Mom 

when she introduced 

my siblings and me

to someone new

we happened to meet.

My tag was sewn,

identified and neat.

But I really wasn’t terribly shy

as indicated by Mother.

I simply loved to scrutinize

and exercise prudence

in dealing with others.

A curse back then.

But now I understand;

my pensive ‘flaws’

were precious gifts

of a Higher command.

Indeed, this shy one

has ardently grown,

for my interactions

delicately honed,

pensive and discreet,

have led me to complete

some pretty marvelous feats.

Thank you, Lord. 

Thanks Mom and Dad... 

May the Perpetual Light shine upon you.

© Jeanne I. Lakatos