Light hooks the soft edge of things, holds them in the moment. Light lifts the cover off the sky. A sun dog stands straight up in the southeast: a lovely pillar. There is another pillar to the other side of the sun, making a matched set. The wind blowing hard to the east cannot blow away the morning’s color.
When the world rages, rage back your love for the world, I tell myself. Out-shout God.
by Tom Montag of The Middlewesterner
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Good God, yes. I hear you, my brother.
Tom, these are strong, resonant words, the strong sound of bells.
“…When the world rages, rage back your love for the world, I tell myself”
There is no better advice.
Teju & Natalie–Thanks for the good words. Raging back your love for the world is a struggle, but has got to be done, yes?
It takes life to love life. Amen.
Yes! Wonderful advice, Tom. I love this.
Has got to be done, yes. Thank you for saying so, Tom.
What I especially like is the “rage” part: the acknowledgement that “raging our love” is a valid and appropriate response.
I like the sun dogs as pillars — lifts the moment out of time, just as the first sentence promises. *Then* the rage.
Thanks, all of you. I appreciate it.
Oh, Tom, that last line…! Glorious.
(o)
This is another lovely piece that draws you through, word by word, till the final word which seems to echo in the mind while contemplating what the piece has to done to you while reading it. It has added to the morning’s colour, in less than a 100 words. Thanks.