Happy Easter (in a limestone landscape)

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Obviously, it’s been a while. Again.

I meant to post a lot through Lent. Mostly about how much I suck at lent. And apparently at blogging consistently. 

That apparently did not happen. Still this is the Resurrection Day! So I will keep it short:

This is the last chunk of my favorite poem (of all time) by W.H.Auden.

“In Praise of Limestone”

They were right, my dear, all those voices were right 
And still are; this land is not the sweet home that it looks, 
Nor its peace the historical calm of a site 
Where something was settled once and for all: A back ward 
And dilapidated province, connected 
To the big busy world by a tunnel, with a certain 
Seedy appeal, is that all it is now? Not quite: 
It has a worldy duty which in spite of itself 
It does not neglect, but calls into question 
All the Great Powers assume; it disturbs our rights. The poet, 
Admired for his earnest habit of calling 
The sun the sun, his mind Puzzle, is made uneasy 
By these marble statues which so obviously doubt 
His antimythological myth; and these gamins, 
Pursuing the scientist down the tiled colonnade 
With such lively offers, rebuke his concern for Nature’s 
Remotest aspects: I, too, am reproached, for what 
And how much you know. Not to lose time, not to get caught, 
Not to be left behind, not, please! to resemble 
The beasts who repeat themselves, or a thing like water 
Or stone whose conduct can be predicted, these 
Are our common prayer, whose greatest comfort is music 
Which can be made anywhere, is invisible, 
And does not smell. In so far as we have to look forward 
To death as a fact, no doubt we are right: But if 
Sins can be forgiven, if bodies rise from the dead, 
These modifications of matter into 
Innocent athletes and gesticulating fountains, 
Made solely for pleasure, make a further point: 
The blessed will not care what angle they are regarded from, 
Having nothing to hide. Dear, I know nothing of 
Either, but when I try to imagine a faultless love 
Or the life to come, what I hear is the murmur 
Of underground streams, what I see is a limestone landscape.

 

HAPPY EASTER, Y’ALL!  (If you want, I can explain why this is the quintessential Easter poem to me, but for now, I will let Auden and Our Risen Lord speak for themselves.)

“Why do you look for the living among the dead?  He is not here; he has risen!” (Lk 24:5-6)

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About rachelandreesa

We are two people. One is Rachel. The other is me, Teresa. Rachel didn't want to write the introductory material so you're stuck with what I come up with. Hahah! We both just graduated from the University of Dallas with a degree (Two, actually!) in English. We rocked at it. Both us. Respectively. In totally and completely different ways. Okay moving on. Rachel is blonde. I am not. Rachel has brown eyes (hazel eyes she says. Do you want to write this Rachel?!?). Okay we'll post a picture forget the rest. In conclusion, there is no good reason for us to start a blog, and there is even less reason for us to do one together, besides a joint tendency to interpret life in a literary fashion... TO A RIDICULOUS DEGREE. IT'S RIDICULOUS. Furthermore and finally, there are rules for reading our blog. It's a game. The game starts now. You have to score one thousand points. If you do that, you take home a tank with a big gun. Each day we will announce the scores from that loudspeaker. The one who has the fewest points will have to wear a sign that says "Jackass" on his back. There are three ways to lose points. One, turning into a big crybaby. Two, telling us you want to see your mommy. Three, saying you're hungry and want something to eat. FORGET IT!

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