Posted by Tyler Kirkpatrick | June 30, 2020
I was recently inspired to write a poem for each day of creation–(which are written as poems themselves). I will be posting a new entry each day. Today: Genesis 1:6-8.
The Second Day
Raindrops drizzle and dance
upon the surface of the lake
In their playful prancing they are becoming
a part of the surface upon which they dance
Sidewalks steam in the streaming sunlight
transformed and having transformed
for rain and snow do not return
without nourishing, conceiving, bringing forth life;
in their becoming they beget the becoming of the world
Sky above and sea below
Separated but not separate
"Neither movement from nor towards,
neither ascent nor decline... there is
only the dance"
In the dance the becoming
In the becoming the transforming
In the transforming the returning
A symbiotic cycle made possible
Only by the separating.
The Second Day.
 From T.S. Eliot’s Four Quartets
 Featured image: Caillebotte, Gustave, 1848-1894. Yerres, the Effect of Rain, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. http://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=55760 [retrieved June 29, 2020]. Original source: http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:G._Caillebotte_-_L%27Yerres,_pluie.jpg.
Posted by Tyler Kirkpatrick | June 29, 2020
I was recently inspired to write a poem for each day of creation–(which are written as poems themselves). I will be posting a new entry each day. Up first: Genesis 1:1-5.
The First Day
“God is not darkness, but in the darkness I saw God.”
The work of God begins in darkness
evening first, then morning.
While I slumber in subconsciousness
God works well before my waking
knitting neurons and leading them on right paths
“Our life is a faint tracing on the surface of mystery”
Unexplained abyss formless and void.
GPS pinpoints the coordinates of our routine transpacific flight
But neither person nor computer
the world that lies below the
surface of the deep over which we hover
Ferries filled to capacity jet confidently
and routinely across Puget Sound,
barely submerged into the unseen darkness below
They are water-winged children
Dog-paddling on the surface of mystery
God is light
…though the darkness hide thee.
The work of God begins
hovering over the darkness
of a world still uncreated.
In the unexplained abyss of
God calls forth light
evening first, then the illumination of morning.
The first day.
 Something I read years ago and a quote I’ve been able to track down. Rainer Maria Rilke, perhaps?
 Annie Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek.
 Featured image: Watkins, Carleton E., 1829-1916. Solar Eclipse from Mount Santa Lucia, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. http://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=56320 [retrieved June 29, 2020]. Original source: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Carleton_Watkins_(American_-_Solar_Eclipse_from_Mount_Santa_Lucia_-_Google_Art_Project.jpg.