No High and Fluting Sentiment

I’d do it o’er, I’d do it o’er,
If only time could be undone
My now dragged back into the past
My words unraveled, fights unwon.

No high and fluting sentiment,
No deep and luted sorrow,
No thought or heart or wish or word
Makes yesterday tomorrow.

I’d say it better, put it right,
Not put you down like seed in ground,
Not hold my peace when called to speak
Nor speak when peace would not be found.

No high and fluting sentiment,
No deep and luted sorrow,
No thought or heart or wish or word
Makes yesterday tomorrow.

With wisdom earned of time now lived,
Another chance, a blotted page–
Turn back the cost, but leave the wage;
I’d walk to circumstance a sage,

No high and fluting sentiment,
No deep and luted sorrow,
No thought or heart or wish or word
Makes yesterday tomorrow.

What little insight I have gained
Cannot be spent on past poor takes,
Nor can the scene be shot again
Nor what’s spoke now be what I spake.

No high and fluting sentiment,
No deep and luted sorrow,
No thought or heart or wish or word
Makes yesterday tomorrow.

These bits and mites of priceless coin
So pinched from moments lived a-wrong
Can but be spent on moments met
Once one has walked from thence along.

No high and fluting sentiment,
No deep and luted sorrow,
No thought or heart or wish or word
Makes yesterday tomorrow.

And then—and then!—I cry my woe,
So small indeed is knowledge known,
When held to wisdom yet unwon
To thoughts unthought, unreaped, unsown.

No high and fluting sentiment,
No deep and luted sorrow,
No thought or heart or wish or word
Makes perfect now and morrow.

So day by day, I earn my way
The stumbler seeking feet like hind’s,
The fool by wise-ish foolishness
Seeks understanding, nearly blind.

No high and fluting sentiment,
Can halt past rents from tearing
No deep and luted sorrow now
Buys morrow’s faultless bearing.

And much is hurt and healed and made,
Is broken, beaten, lost, and found,
But though the road dips humbly low,
I move through time to higher ground.

Though thought and heart and wish and word
Cannot make perfect now or then,
I’ll think, and feel, and speak, and hope,
And hold my peace, and step again.

Who wants to know?

I feel like I should write an introductory blog post before I just start slinging all kinds of piles of words about like so many word piles. As a hello to my yet-nonexistent following, perhaps? As a way to tell people why they should become one? Or as a sort of “Caution: the following thoughts are under construction!” sign?

I suppose I just want everything that follows to feel less out-of-the-blue. Maybe this compunction is based on an illusion–does a sign on a door reading, “Warning: paint-splashed willy-nilly on the floors ahead,” really make much difference to the person walking into the besplattered room?

It’s probably an attempt to explain why I’m doing this; my excuses to the blogging world in general (and the spiritual blogging world in particular) for why I should contribute to cluttering it up. More likely, I’m just trying to explain as much to myself.

God, me, and loquacity. The loquacity bit is no joke. I talk a lot, to the air if no one is there, or to the blank page if one is handy. Time to start making those thoughts googlable, I guess, in the hope (shared with most every blogger, I’m sure,) that someone will find value in them.

The truth is, it seems to me that I should have this blog. Why has it taken me so long to make it, then? Because I have another blog, a blog about writing and fantasy and so on, that I hardly ever take care of. Why should I have two of a thing when I can’t take care of one? It’s a legitimate question.

The answer, I think, lies in the fact that the subject of this blog (God and what have you,) has become more central to me than the subject of my other blog (fiction and its creation,) and I’m quite glad of that, but it has drawn some energy away from The Ink Caster.

My other blog feels clogged with all these posts I wanted to post, but didn’t want to post there. There, I tried to keep a balance between how often I chattered about spiritual things and how often I wrote about book and writing and words and the like. Otherwise, I felt like I irritated the readers who hadn’t signed up for double portions of God-talk.

Maybe I shouldn’t care, eh? Sure, I’d likely have lost a few followers who grew weary of it, but I shouldn’t care about that, right? But it felt wrong, somehow. Different posts for different folks. “I am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ,” but there’s a difference in the way I’d talk to someone who doesn’t care about God, and the way I’d talk to someone who does.

It’s like this–imagine you really love a TV show. Say, for instance, Doctor Who. You’re really excited about it, and you want to talk about it all the time. So you find someone who watches the show as well, and you gabble in Whovian with them for many happy hours. Then you go to a friend of yours who’s never watched the show, and you’re so excited you can’t help but do the same thing. You want them to watch the show with you, after all!

No matter how much they love you and try to care, you’re probably not going to help the Whovian cause. Trust me on this one. I’ve done it. And that’s with people who already love you and try to care.

If I had it to do over again, I’d have bitten my tongue a good nine times out of ten, and simply murmured an intriguing sentence or so every now and again. Maybe they would actually have wanted to watch, then. Maybe even now, if I dial it back sufficiently, I can still get them to sit through Blink with me.

So that’s what I’m saying about God (and me, and loquacity). I really, really love God, and I really want to talk about him most of the time, and I love talking about him for hours to people who also love to talk about him. But for the others, those that don’t care yet, it’s probably best to bite my tongue nine times out of ten, keep posting what I told them I’d post, and simply murmur an intriguing sentence every now and again.

But that’s over there, at The Ink Caster. Here, I open my mouth. That much is in the title. Here, I’m talking to the fellow-enthusiasts, or people curious enough to listen of their own volition. Here, I’m not going to restrain my loquacity on my favorite subject.

But don’t worry–I’ll only talk about Doctor Who one time out of ten.