PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I have been a Christian for thirty years, as of this month---and I do not regret one moment of the time I have believed---but I am always amazed, as if for the first time, when I not only witness but FEEL a miracle going on.

I received a comment from a good, reliable, but underappreciated friend reminding me of priorities that, in the flush of asserting what I thought were discovered freedoms and perspectives, I removed from my responsibility.  While that may be a viable strategy for a young poet, it does not work well for an old one.  While I rejoice that I am nearer to my Homegoing to Heaven than ever before, it also means that my time remaining on earth is decreasing, and I have not nearly enough left to squander on frivolities.

I have used several screen names on PostPoems.  Starward is it, permanently; written in Leet in some User Name fields, but still Starward.  Since my earliest memories of life, I have had an identity problem---a condition, they tell me, often experienced by adopted children.  During my sixth and tenth grade years, my mundane first name bore the brunt of bullying---mostly overt in high school, and much more subtle (and, admittedly, far less) at home from my parents, who had already let me know (as early as kindergarten) that I was a disappointment to them.

I realize, too, that my fascination with "high church" liturgy as opposed to any other form of worship is misplaced.  The method of worship is not as important as the closeness of the fellowship of those who worship.  Therefore, for my remaining time here, the issue is not "high" or "low" church---but close church, the church of nearness, to our Lord and to each other; and this is most profoundly embodied (or given metaphor and simile) by a depiction of a small country church rather than a large cathedral.  Large cathedrals have their uses and vocations; small, close, plain churches are more spiritually cozy.  In his great masterwork, The Four Quartets, the great Christian Poet, T. S. Eliot, wrote "You are here to kneel / Where prayer has been valid" (Little Gidding, I).  

The great flaw of, and the most negative part of, my nature is fickleness.  I hope, from this day , that I may, as I continue my journey starward to Heaven, to be closer to the close-worshipping churches, all over the place (I particularly have loved seeing them in Kentucky when I have been blessed to visit there---although probably will never get to go again), where prayer has been valid.  I hope to live long enough to adjust my collection of poems on this site that it may stand in good order when I have departed to meet Jesus.

Starward