Posts Tagged: ‘Splinters of Light’

VIEW FROM TOMORROW

02/05/2012 Posted by mindsinger

 

 

 

 

 

Life was not always like this for me, you know.

There was a time – oh there was a time!

I marched with the best of them!

 

I flew those silver birds through hell

and brought them back every time.

Life was not always like this.

 

Sometimes I remember things.

Like the time I found those pups

only a couple weeks old

suckling their dead mother

at the bottom of a foxhole.

 

I cried as I drowned those pups.

I wanted to be back on thatIndianafarm

where I cold raise those warm, wiggly buggers

and make sheep dogs of them!

God, how I wanted that!

 

I remember shooting the enemy

and seeing around his neck

a gold locket.

Then having to get up and fire again

to keep that piece of real estate

on our side of the front.

 

I remember the men, good, bad, brave, weak,

who shared that life and made it special.

Ah, we had us some times!

 

What’s that, you say?

What am I doing here?

I don’t’ know.

Sometimes, I think I’m trying to forget.

But mostly, I guess, I’m trying to remember

that time when life itself was a battle.

 

I wait for those spaces when the whiskey fog lifts

and the reality of a civilized world closes in.

Those minutes when I seem once again

to be them aster of my fate.

When the lives of my men and the fate of a world

rested on the tip of a carbine.

Or when these red eyes saw the world

from the blue skies.

when life meant something.

No, life was not always like this.

                          ~*~

c.2000 Donna Swanson

Reviews: Splinters of Light

04/24/2011 Posted by mindsinger

 

 

A month or so ago I asked several friends who are familiar with my work to let me know what they think of my poetry.  Below are the replies I received from them.  They had not read Splinters of Light, but they are looking forward to it.

 

~*~

Jane Jernagan, Editor: Williamsport Review Republican

Donna’s works are always fascinating, intriguing and keep pulling you in. She has a very captivating style of writing.

 

Dennie Turner, Fellow Christian and co-grandma

You always seem to find the words to express the feelings we all share. After reading one of your poems I always think, “Yeah, me too.”  .

 

Brenda Butler, fellow Christian

Donna, your poems speak to my heart. They make me smile and at the same time, I find tears in my eyes. They are touching and real, and about God and life! For me…that is saying it all.  –.

I love this poem! It tells of the Lord shaping us until He is ready to take us home. It is elegant and still simple enough to understand. — Brenda Butler comments on “Tapestry” from Splinters of Light.

 

David McCord, retired minister and past president of the North American Christian Convention.

Donna Swanson’s poetry is fresh and insightful, sometimes touching, sometimes provocative, always delightful; worth reading and rereading.

 

Kathy Kroeger, Internet prayer partner.

What a gift this has been, reading the precious words of Donna.  She gives us a time for all reasons, and a time for all seasons.  I fell upon her words when my heart was breaking for the pain of our world surrounding Japan.  Her words were true to the time I needed them.  “Did You Ever Cry, Jesus?  in My Father’s Garden”

It was like she was there, and talking to our Lord.  After reading this piece from Donna, I knew I wasn’t alone in my pain.  Donna’s gift of our Lords words is so very rewarding.  I look forward to her new book with love and comfort.  It’ll be like she’s right at my side….again.

 

Bonnie Marie Shoaf, retired minister, Pastoral Counsellor, Serenity Hospice.

When I read your poems it seems like you are taking my hand

and walking with me to the place where God is waiting; to the cross,

to the lakeshore, to the temple. . .

It’s a gentle caressing of my emotions, which helps me wiggle my way to the

foot of the cross through the angry mob, through the tender tears of friends and mother and  through my own fears.

Your poetry touches every emotion in me. I feel sorrow in my soul, then

anger and when I keep reading I feel the joy and triumph in my heart.

May it be so.  –

 

Kris Turpin-Ellingwood, Indiana Dept. of Children’s Services

I have been blessed to have grown up with Donna as my neighbor and mentor since I was a little girl. I will never forget the first time I heard her poem “Minnie Remembers,” I made my mom buy her book “Mindsong”, so that I would always have that poem. Donna inspired me to write my own poems and has always been an inspiration to me. She not only writes about her life and her love of God in her poetry, she lives it daily! Donna is an inspiration of and a true vessel of God’s Word!  –

 

Joe Zakarian – Solano Beach, CA.  Retired golf pro. (In response to my Granny Tales website.

Donna’s poetic stories take me back to my boyhood, to a time when my dreams were of things so warmly remembered. The little mouse playing in the grain, the cute little bunnies and the puppies. And the lonely bird! She makes the kids antsy for bedtime to come so they can hear another of her cuddly stories.

 

Carol Winegardner, Housewife

This author has an amazing way of capturing the very essence of her subject and expressing it in a way that gives us fresh insight and enlightenment.  –

 

Terry Painter, Veedersburg, IN

Donna’s Poems are a rare treat in today’s society. Words that flow and mean so much. She also writes for our local paper. She is truly a great find. Please, read and you will discover why in this small community she is one of our finest outstanding citizens.  A truly blessed person. I hope you will enjoy her work as we all do here in her home community.

 

Arzella Kay (aka Kay Henderson) Producer of “Minnie Remembers” film

I’ll never forget the first time I read, “Minnie Remembers.”  I literally “saw” the film run.  I jumped up and ran to our sound engineer, then cinematographer and finally, our film editor.  I shared the poem and the pictures it brought up for me.  We agreed, “Let’s do it.”  I’ve seen grown men cry while watching that film.  Donna’s ability to turn on your senses, provoke your deepest feelings, touch your spirit and move you to action is truly a gift from God.  No wonder that film was such a roaring success. .

 

Jeff Kiger, Business editor for the Post-Bulletin/Minnesota

Reading Donna Swanson’s writing is like sipping a cool drink of water that your body desperately needed without your mind ever being aware of it.
It is refreshing and reaches a personal level within the heart that many people rarely visit.
Her words always carry me back to when I was a child, a time when I was probably wiser than who I became after years and years of allowing the world to shape who I am.
Her poems are a reflection of that pure wonder and joy that children instinctively feel.
Simple, beautiful, profound and very delicate.   –

Melynda Leak, B.A., M.A.  Owner/Operator Williamsport Day School

Splinters of Light draws you into the hidden, secret place of your thoughts.  The place where you go when you’re alone.   The place where you go to mull over your choices and circumstances.  The place you go when you’re weary – where you are not afraid to be honest.
The prose and poetry of Splinters of Light comes alongside us and illuminates our dark, hidden place and whispers gently to our souls this reminder – God, your creator, is always here with you and He loves you.

 

Alyce Thompson Elliott, New York.

In Donna Swanson’s writing there is something for everyone – everyone that wants to be inspired and lifted up, everyone that wants to laugh as well as cry, wants to see streams of deep thought run clearly and accessibly. There is a lyricism to all of Donna’s writing that makes it a pleasure to read aloud, or quietly and contemplatively. Whether writing of joy or sorrow, Donna’s gift of communication will bring the reader close to her heart and warm their own; she may wrench their heart, but will leave them carrying a bright coal of hope and faith.

 

Music

04/04/2011 Posted by mindsinger

I remember walking alone along dusty paths through the fields in summer twilight with the soft afterglow making silhouettes of buildings and trees.  The wonder and fullness of such quiet beauty would make me desperate with the need to capture and express it.  As a child, the only way it could be expressed was to sing, loud and free, with no one to hear but God and the shaggy dog who faithfully accompanied me.  The words didn’t matter so much then.  They could as easily be a rowdy ballad as a hymn.  But they released my spirit which soared away to touch the face of God as a child touches the face of a parent in love and wonder.
To touch God.  To touch.  To end the separation of myself from the world of wonder that surrounded me.  But it was never enough just to touch.  I could touch a tree.  I could even hold my hand in the rain and touch the sky.  No, not enough just to touch.  I know now that the restless yearning was to be touched back.
To be touched.  To be responded to.  An intense child, silent, stubborn, and withdrawn, I did not know how to ask for touching.  And so I sang.  And was touched by the gentle wind of summer; by the silent touch of a cold nose on my hand; by the simple beauty of an Indiana farm and the wonder of God.
But not by people.  I was suspicious of people.  Born a twin and youngest by five years of eight children, I was always too young to be useful.  So, feeling the lack of a place for myself in the fabric of that big busy family, I withdrew into a fantasy world, building elaborate “ranches” among the tree roots, using marbles for horses and people I could control, and drawing pictures on endless yellow tablets.  I stayed on the sidelines and watched and listened and wondered.  And hungered to be a part of the big bustling world around me.
Music somehow reflected those yearnings.  In the swelling of a symphony or the mellow note of a single instrument sang the hunger, the wonder, the longing I could not express.  And I could be one with that.  I could be touched by it.  And for those few moments I could be whole.