I am a lover of words - the way they sing together in neat or sprawling lines upon the page, conducted by the great wordsmiths of all time. The way a sudden turn of phrase or surprising combination of sounds resonates with the deep within me, causing pause: moments of reflection and appreciation that transcend the superficial babblings and paltry visions of the infantile. Here at the deepening ground, it is my intent to make time and space for the reflection, appreciation, and creative imaginings that sustain the human soul.
Advent: December 20 By Vincent H. Anastasi 2022 Bumper to bumper, the traffic inches forward; evening’s stars emerge. Crossing this urban desert, I, too, seek the source of Rest.
Advent: December 19 By Vincent H. Anastasi 2022 No red dragon jaws could devour the child-king, silence the war-cry that commands angelic hosts even from a manger bed.
In the midst of my series of Advent Tankas, I still wanted to share this Mary Oliver gem that I read a few weeks ago thanks to an email thread I receive at work. Though the snows have already arrived here in Grove City, it’s not until Wednesday that Winter officially begins. As we head … More Mary Oliver Mondays: Thoughts on Coming Winter #Poetry #Winter #Darkness #MaryOliver
Advent: December 18 By Vincent H. Anastasi 2022 In the infant’s cry echoes the voice that spoke light, split the earth and sea, and sang us into being. How could we not bend down low?
Advent: December 17 By Vincent H. Anastasi 2022 There comes a time when reputation and honor no longer matter and all that is most sacred exists in obedience.
Advent: December 16 By Vincent H. Anastasi 2022 I wouldn’t exchange this gift – this invitation – led by living light to The Light, for all the stars in their jealous multitude.
Advent: December 15 By Vincent H. Anastasi 2022 Peaceful sweeping still the calm come in labor’s wake before transition the painful pressing of life towards death, then — resurrection!
Advent: December 14 By Vincent H. Anastasi 2022 You don’t really think our vulgar presence, pungent smell and uncouth ways have a place in this pageant announced by heavenly choirs?
Advent: December 13 By Vincent H. Anastasi 2022 In the beginning you had to take it on faith; it couldn’t be seen, impossible to conceive, carrying divinity!
This post resonated with me today as I read it over lunch. A fitting reminder for the Advent season from one of my favorite deepening grounds: Wendell Berry! Remembering that it happened once. A Sabbath poem by Wendell Berry. Remembering that it happened once | Wendell Berry (Sabbath Poems 1987:VI)
the deepening ground 