Happy belated birthday

…to this little blog and me. It was one year old yesterday, and I’m a good bit more years old than that.

To celebrate here’s one of my favorite poems in all the world, and posting it is inspired by my wonderful friends Ann and Garon who sent a birthday card with a kingfisher on it.

Little kingfisher, I didn't paint you nearly so well as you deserve to be painted.

Little kingfisher, I didn’t paint you nearly so well as you deserve to be painted.

As Kingfishers Catch Fire

by Gerard Manley Hopkins

As kingfishers catch fire, dragonflies draw flame;
As tumbled over rim in roundy wells
Stones ring; like each tucked string tells, each hung bell’s
Bow swung finds tongue to fling out broad its name;
Each mortal thing does one thing and the same:
Deals out that being indoors each one dwells;
Selves — goes itself; myself it speaks and spells,
Crying Whát I dó is me: for that I came.


I say móre: the just man justices;
Keeps grace: thát keeps all his goings graces;
Acts in God’s eye what in God’s eye he is —
Chríst — for Christ plays in ten thousand places,
Lovely in limbs, and lovely in eyes not his
To the Father through the features of men’s faces.


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