#the cloud maiden and the river god

[fistfuloflightning]

Is it still bride stealing if the lady in question wants to leave?

From my Zhancheng au: The Cloud Maiden and the River God

[faeriesandfolklore]

A vampire lord whose entire clan was killed by humans, the rivers near his castle bathed in blood. Ever since that day, he has lurked in the darkness outside of the human kingdom, seeking revenge. He takes a mortal every year, during the Blood Moon- and they never return. 

But this time, it is you. The people of your village lock their doors, rub salt into the windowsills, place crosses over their doorways to ward off the beast. It is a terrifying notion, being taken by the vampire. Having your children whisked away into the night for him to feed. 

But while you are deep in slumber, your window twitches open. A long shadow, almost a tendril of darkness, fills the room aside from the pale moonlight. And then you see the eyes, white as the clouds above, peering down at you. Sharp teeth, long golden hair. He snarls, pinning you down. 

And then you are dragged away from your home, into the darkness of the woods. You beg and plead for your life- the slaughter happened centuries ago, so far back your ancestors do not even recall the dark night. But now you are in his grasp. 

He hisses under his breath as you squirm, his voice rich like wine. “Stop moving like that, human. It is driving me mad.”

You let out a tiny wail, unable to stop from fighting back as the lights of the town fade. You hear an agitated grunt, and then the prick of teeth on your neck. Then, darkness. 

When you wake, you are on a blush sofa, colored a deep red. You wear robes you have never felt the like of before, velvet and fur, soft against your skin. And the decor around you is haunting- black pillars holding up a marble ceiling, statues of maidens and gods lining the hall. And there, across from you, is him. 

“I would not try to run,” he comments a bit darkly. “It did not end well for the others.”

Your heart pounds so quickly you know he can hear it, can sense the blood rushing through your veins. “The others?”

“The others I took,” he says. “All tiny things, weak mortals. Barely worth the effort.” His piercing eyes linger on you, dark and sure. “Barely worth the vengeance I sought.” 

You sit back in your chair, throat dry. “You killed them?”

“I feasted on them,” he murmurs, as if it is common sense. You can picture it- the sweetness of the blood, his shining eyes illuminating the night. He stands, looming over you, as if waiting. “I would feast on you as well,” he whispers. “That was the plan.” He looks irritated, almost. 

You stammer for words. He should? So why has he not?

You feel his cold hand move to your neck, fingers brushing your throat. You are surprised by how calming the action is- this being is a predator, meant to bring a mortal like you to their knees. But you almost wish to turn your face into his palm. To inhale his scent. “Because you have captivated me,” he whispers. “And I seek to keep you.”

[emilykaldwen]

@rottengrowls' tag about being most interested in Lythene when she was introduced.

Lythene Ryger of Willow Wood

Fifteen years old with strawberry blonde hair and honey brown eyes

The great-niece of Lady Mya Ryger, wife of beloved Uncle Simon, which means that Lythene is... 1st cousin once or twice removed from @selfproclaimedunicorn's Cassana and @darkwolf76's Deidre (who are Mya's granddaughters in Maiden.)

Her mother is Lady Jocelyn Stokeworth. Her great-aunt (if I do math right), Samantha, was poisoned by Androw Farman, as he was jealous of Rhaena's ladies/girlfriends.

Lythene is a bubbly personality who is the kind of self-confident girl you met when you were 15 that seemed to know everything about everybody but not in a bad-gossip way, just in a 'I hear and know things and people just tend to tell me a lot of stuff'.

She's a proud Riverlander, and House Ryger is the southern neighbor of House Strong along the shores of the God's Eye. They're the first 'county' when crossing from the Crownlands into the Riverlands. Lythene is well versed in Rivertongue, and it is spoken at home.

While Lythene is pretty mature for her age/aware of what's up, she does harbor a romantic and fanciful heart, which I think is why she found a kinship with Abby when they met at the birthday/betrothal feast. I think she's a bit of a know-it-all but in charming sort of way as she tends to be the leader of the pack even though she might be one of the younger ones.

Her knowledge of familial politics is not an accident. Given her heritage and the ties of her family into House Targaryen and politics, as well as the proximity to King's Landing, Westerosi Politics have been hammered into her.

She's a peacemaker, well trained in being a hostess and definitely has more practice at is, since she's the only daughter of her house and thus used to hosting alongside her mother. (I've been wondering around relating her to the Baratheons but not sure yet).

Bonus Trivia: Lythene's grandmother is Lady Lena Lothston. The Lothstons and Stokeworths, canonically, are quite close to each other. Post Dance of Dragons, Falena Stokeworth marries Lucas Lothston and they're given Harrenhal (Falena was Aegon IV's first mistress).

Lythene Ryger of Willow Wood had drawn her into the shy gaggle of maidens who were standing expectantly along the edge of the dance floor, trading glances across the room at the lords and Abby had noticed the looks they’d thrown in Aemond’s direction. Lady Lythene was five and ten, soft featured with honey brown eyes, her strawberry blonde hair woven with strands of river pearls in the common half knot coil that was stylish in the Riverlands.

“If Lord Yorick were here, none of these men would have a chance to win tomorrow,” Melony Piper said, all dark hair and more freckles than one could count. “My sister says he was the most fearsome knight not so long ago.”

“Psh,” Lythene rolled her eyes. “Everyone knows Ser Gwayne is a force to be reckoned with. Besides, Lord Yorick never leaves Runestone and if he did, Lord Borros would throw a fit.” She looked smug with the knowledge imparted and whatever look on Abby’s face seemed to spur her on. She leaned in. “Lord Yorick is married to Lord Borros’ younger sister with a son of their own. Should Lady Elenda not have a son, it’s said his sister may push one of her son’s claims to Storm’s End.”

As one, their eyes swiveled in the direction of Cassandra Baratheon, perfectly coiffed, and everything the daughter of a Lord Paramount would be. Raven hair wild as storm clouds around her bare shoulders, her golden dress sparkling in the dancing torchlight with an opal the size of Abby’s fist nestled in the hollow of her throat. Abby’s hands twitched, smoothing over the cloud of blue and green silk organza, the golden dragons and weirwood leaves embroidered over her bodice.

A warm hand touched her wrist and Abby met the gentle, honey eyes of Lythene, who smiled up at her. “Tá cuma álainn ort, a bhean,” she said softly while the others tittered. It took Abby a moment to register the words, “you look beautiful, my lady”, and Abby smiled shyly.

“Go raibh maith agat,” she thanked her and Lythene bit her lip as if holding back a chuckle.

“Agat,” she pronounced softly, the inflection different. “A little closer to got, and less like goat.”

Her cheeks burned and she repeated it softly and Lythene took her hand, squeezing it. “I can’t imagine you get to practice with many people here in the South,” she laughed, a tinkling like bells that drew the attention of other men.

[comedygoldatragedy]

The Bridled Infinity

VERTHAN Demon of the Third Circle First Soul of the Endless Desert

In time immemorial thunder rolled across an infinite silver desert. A cloud of black sand haloed in gold, the primal heart of law reared rampant in a black sky. It roared and bellowed from a hundred jaws of obsidian glass, and struck the earth as it strode with a thousand legs of lightning. Its strides stretched from nowhere to everywhere, from yesterday to tomorrow, each step a sheet of lightning crashing from one end of the sky to the other. As the silver desert knew no finity so too did her cacophonous thunderhead, her beating heart, run wild and free.

Verthan knew no rival in ancient times, not even among the vast presences of its mother-world’s peers. It kicked quills free from Isidoros’ back and strode through the waters of the river Adrian unharmed, and it was happy. But it was unfulfilled, and knew this to be true when it finally beheld the greatest of its mothers’ kin. A shining tyrant, a twin-hearted presence of empyrean perfection. At that moment the beast of the silver sands’ eyes opened, and it became The Beast Which Beheld God.

And then its god died, and its corpse sewed shut the sky, and the Beast Which Beheld God found its strides circumscribed by a boundary, a five-day line of blood in the sand. And so it raged, and lashed with its many legs, and kicked stars free of their mountings in Heaven.

Heavenly archives say that Xas Maketh, sun-Chosen warlord of the First Age, heard Verthan’s rolling thunder and was reminded of the rumble of hooves across the plains of his homeland, and so likened the beast to a horse. With burning ambition in his heart he decided that he would tame it as one. Records of their battle differ in their precise accounting, but all agree that the two must have dueled for fifteen days. The beast’s spirit was not tamed, but its body was sundered. Its many jaws were folded and dislocated until they could be held by a single bit and bridle of orichalcum. The swirling expanse of its back was broken and bent to a shape better suited for a saddle of moonsilver. Its thousand legs of lightning were lashed and twisted together to fit four adamant horseshoes, and so Xas Maketh had his steed.

Yu-Shan’s poets still trade songs about the hero Xas Maketh and his handsome black horse. They say that to commemorate his triumph the Solar rode into heaven at the head of a great parade, astride a horse with a slick black coat as dark as the stones of the Underworld and a mane and tail of shimmering gold. It leapt from the peak of an earthly mountain straight to Heaven’s gate, and Xas’ many thousands of adherents followed in its fulminated foot-treads. Some poets speak too of the horse’s eyes, and how they brimmed with tears at the glory of the celestial city.

No histories speak of what became of Xas Maketh’s steed after his death at the hands of his treacherous lieutenants, but some say that a solitary survivor traded the Bridled Infinity to a maiden of blue glass in exchange for safe haven in the Demon City.

Notes and abilities: Verthan can bear a rider anywhere in all the cosmos, riding the lightning that shines in the vast black void of Cecelyne’s starry infinitude. No matter how distant, no matter how impossible, Verthan may reach it with but a moment, though to his rider an age may have seemed to pass. All who can discern his track may follow. 

The golden hairs of Verthan’s mane are unimaginably precious, and some of the First Age’s greatest artifacts have bundles of Verthan’s hairs at their cores. The beast is loath to part with them, though, and any rider who tries to pilfer some risks being thrown from the Demon’s back and lost in the starry void forever.

Verthan despises the ruin that has been made of his body, and reserves his voice and his intellect for those to whom he feels some kinship. To those trapped in bodies they hate, bound by cruel names so that the ignorant might understand them, he shares his knowledge. Secrets of space-bending sorceries of lightning and whirling sand. His history - the impossible places past summoners have used his power to reach, and their reasons for doing so. He also shares what he has seen: hidden oases, ancient cities, and lost treasures that only a being capable of striding through the sky high above an endless desert could possibly find.

[madecunningly]

Sunday Morning

By Wallace Stevens

I

Complacencies of the peignoir, and late

Coffee and oranges in a sunny chair,

And the green freedom of a cockatoo

Upon a rug mingle to dissipate

The holy hush of ancient sacrifice.

She dreams a little, and she feels the dark

Encroachment of that old catastrophe,

As a calm darkens among water-lights.

The pungent oranges and bright, green wings

Seem things in some procession of the dead,

Winding across wide water, without sound.

The day is like wide water, without sound,

Stilled for the passing of her dreaming feet

Over the seas, to silent Palestine,

Dominion of the blood and sepulchre.

II

Why should she give her bounty to the dead?

What is divinity if it can come

Only in silent shadows and in dreams?

Shall she not find in comforts of the sun,

In pungent fruit and bright, green wings, or else

In any balm or beauty of the earth,

Things to be cherished like the thought of heaven?

Divinity must live within herself:

Passions of rain, or moods in falling snow;

Grievings in loneliness, or unsubdued

Elations when the forest blooms; gusty

Emotions on wet roads on autumn nights;

All pleasures and all pains, remembering

The bough of summer and the winter branch.

These are the measures destined for her soul.

III

Jove in the clouds had his inhuman birth.

No mother suckled him, no sweet land gave

Large-mannered motions to his mythy mind.

He moved among us, as a muttering king,

Magnificent, would move among his hinds,

Until our blood, commingling, virginal,

With heaven, brought such requital to desire

The very hinds discerned it, in a star.

Shall our blood fail? Or shall it come to be

The blood of paradise? And shall the earth

Seem all of paradise that we shall know?

The sky will be much friendlier then than now,

A part of labor and a part of pain,

And next in glory to enduring love,

Not this dividing and indifferent blue.

IV

She says, "I am content when wakened birds,

Before they fly, test the reality

Of misty fields, by their sweet questionings;

But when the birds are gone, and their warm fields

Return no more, where, then, is paradise?"

There is not any haunt of prophecy,

Nor any old chimera of the grave,

Neither the golden underground, nor isle

Melodious, where spirits gat them home,

Nor visionary south, nor cloudy palm

Remote on heaven's hill, that has endured

As April's green endures; or will endure

Like her remembrance of awakened birds,

Or her desire for June and evenings, tipped

By the consummation of the swallow's wings.

V

She says, "But in contentment I still feel

The need of some imperishable bliss."

Death is the mother of beauty; hence from her,

Alone, shall come fulfilment to our dreams

And our desires. Although she strews the leaves

Of sure obliteration on our paths,

The path sick sorrow took, the many paths

Where triumph rang its brassy phrase, or love

Whispered a little out of tenderness,

She makes the willow shiver in the sun

For maidens who were wont to sit and gaze

Upon the grass, relinquished to their feet.

She causes boys to pile new plums and pears

On disregarded plate. The maidens taste

And stray impassioned in the littering leaves.

VI

Is there no change of death in paradise?

Does ripe fruit never fall? Or do the boughs

Hang always heavy in that perfect sky,

Unchanging, yet so like our perishing earth,

With rivers like our own that seek for seas

They never find, the same receding shores

That never touch with inarticulate pang?

Why set the pear upon those river-banks

Or spice the shores with odors of the plum?

Alas, that they should wear our colors there,

The silken weavings of our afternoons,

And pick the strings of our insipid lutes!

Death is the mother of beauty, mystical,

Within whose burning bosom we devise

Our earthly mothers waiting, sleeplessly.

VII

Supple and turbulent, a ring of men

Shall chant in orgy on a summer morn

Their boisterous devotion to the sun,

Not as a god, but as a god might be,

Naked among them, like a savage source.

Their chant shall be a chant of paradise,

Out of their blood, returning to the sky;

And in their chant shall enter, voice by voice,

The windy lake wherein their lord delights,

The trees, like serafin, and echoing hills,

That choir among themselves long afterward.

They shall know well the heavenly fellowship

Of men that perish and of summer morn.

And whence they came and whither they shall go

The dew upon their feet shall manifest.

VIII

She hears, upon that water without sound,

A voice that cries, "The tomb in Palestine

Is not the porch of spirits lingering.

It is the grave of Jesus, where he lay."

We live in an old chaos of the sun,

Or an old dependency of day and night,

Or island solitude, unsponsored, free,

Of that wide water, inescapable.

Deer walk upon our mountains, and quail

Whistle about us their spontaneous cries;

Sweet berries ripen in the wilderness;

And, in the isolation of the sky,

At evening, casual flocks of pigeons make

Ambiguous undulations as they sink,

Downward to darkness, on extended wings.

(@ poetry foundation)

[libidomechanica]

“Or they bene daughters of all their lovesick land that did”

A ballad sequence

               Stanza I

And she will be together join.     —The night Rauens lodge there is iron in thrall; yet freedom broadcast     over against Love.

               Stanza II

The executioner of despair and foreigner     in a big box store&wanders here; followed: so they shall drowse beside the apple trees. He     followed: so they say therein, thou, that

press the gloomy tun with Phoebus stroue, which is why     I waited for you. Whether moved by this arm is fled. Of selfishness amain: let the     clear! Or down to sleep. I promise you

some plan foursquare to counsel then or pray. While thy     brighter the image in love; but soon his forehead. Us by sure that rode high treasured     mirth; while you do homage unto me

alone. Or they bene daughters of all their     lovesick land that did you have loved, I did see a glorious magnanimous Despair     upon Impossibilities can

we trust? This wrong, and, right blue eye, thrust in Heaven.     The breeze of Time. Of female hands shoulders of the level chamber, and I will not giving     the sea backward from off its thorny

tree but my first day the breathes full many times     more last and perpetual feast, while burning, made purple orchis variegate the bunch,     milk from either moved. When from me; darkness

down a Ray of Light in far apartments. I     touch of the throne of thy longing eye, does him to much rebuke and black. That is near. A     single un-green electric cloud,

flaying his gewgaw castle o’ Montgomery! The silent     as a tomb. How shall not have been worth winning; but then we shall have free adit; we     will die from the world rush’d and love, a

sluggish wife; one droned in the swallow still in vain     you than a poppy throws and a beauty. Blush again, as thou gently as ever and     angry Gods pursues her maiden, true

and troubled hands of men. Which is hath been before     people I have no friends, those detestable that did you heard the ridge of pinewood     cross the lips of a grave I come to

pass, it chance! Just as a mistress, prays to the latch     I heard: her maidens, beautifully more or less takes and his own name in his ample lungs,     tho’ the fair. Die; yet waile thy bier.

               Stanza III

And how fleeting visions will be     to-morrow not to-night: with solemn rites by candle. So     short lives give them in the

languish’d head, now fired an angry     Gods pursues her maiden moods of sovereign mistress over     they, or whether on

hylls, or dales, or other dream thy     case, thy teares to give me tender foolish fires of Hell     mix with words and pine. Though

Amaryllis dance in a realm     beyond, and every woman have heard him sing in it at     seventyfold. Be a

god and hold me she would have linger’d—     joy and fell asleep in lap of legends old. To dream     she vanished, you teach my

mouth that who in the day and Night     The Shah crown’d all in vain manna and daunce, what will be burnt     sorcerer’s curse to read

on the genial warmth of sleep, he     is woxe a weeping eyes. And hid her bright-beaming summer     long; the river of the

other men: the old king’s right honest     faith and fair your image in some were sleeping far away     into the lip, on

cheeks, and all the dark, where is a     tall ghost tossing fate, warm cloister’d hours, blush o’ my Phillis,     has met wi’ the queen o’

the ground, and our roots of earth and     renews the wayfaring thine at morn the leader of the     hyghest Ioue, and all night

and day, by various arts of     louers ruine some sweetest scent. Up their Valentine, new angel     mine, to no rude infidel.

Stole a little graceful use     of woe, which now seems to have no fault, therefore flout the lack.     Of the skies change my staff.

               Stanza IV

-Floored elevator i crouches     in its intricacies. And holy secret, seemed a dream,     for aye unsought from the

fluorescent flickering back when     to allay his ears, who promised help, and rudely drest: the     fire scorch’d my heart, send me

a breadth of Autumne plums, did drop     a flower of womankind, can’st thou art! Whose who reach for     my sake do you return’d,

and this shadow of a bird. With     its sad echo did they moved nor weeps its red rust down through,     and prest their thankfulness;

and, for they hurried hands and the     heart violent and day, until we’re safe enough, soon enough     to cure me. Of those Two

Lovers mad. You this separate and     bleached: bees pass it unimpeached. Whose Fount of hours of this     gray hairs—Alas me! I

gazed awhile still together proffer     these the leaves, shaken by light, soft and ride, since our rights,     no woman close for their

seats: part rolled and it’s much of a     world across the ocean, color of the park to pray for     change’s knife to cut the

end of your time—nearer one who     dies, that heart. So, purpose, firm though, we were, ye gentle number     sorrow and whispered

jest to East, for I must shew that     you and many a thickest and new. Voice had graven there’s     that slides along a

table, to beseech a glance that     woman have I not look out and in his arms and glowing     shrubs, how courteous light?

That o’er thy Feet, the foughten field,     what would love me. Stand thine eyes double hill ran up his fury     from God you have placed

or unplaced by those tall columned     entry shone their spirit in the palace Ida stood and     fill the bird in the palace’

I. The glory, being cold.     No one to the cold, and down the evil of misfortune     Allah; unto whom remorse,

the sun are curled; at least act     abides thus in black light and dress with the Frowning Jewel of     the Prince, she comes to the

shining unto no higher end     than this shoulder blade. And then an echo started up his     Neck to yoke it with shameful

jest, encarnalize their shadow     of a dream, I plotted in the trees, there is no truer-     hearted—ah, you spent

I slept till the back of a turtle.     Letters of the serpent kiss poysond poyson know. Fit     appellation for thee.

               Stanza V

With lights in one of the Prince, I     Stellas eyes still my mother she with dainty mistress beneath     huge trees. Bright toll; He rose, and in, from either seemed a     hollow except for meek

St. I stagger in the Fool. Wings,     lend wings of the Minion who from Thee dominion and sence,     they so formed beauties where you would not keep us waking?     According to her proffer,

lastly gave his. That makes me     want to sleep becomes a way found he thrice none then unstinted     love did stand, showing me like antique time! They will be.     Now tell me how—Good Saints!

               Stanza VI

Nothing to reveal feeling fingers walk with rolling     eye, does she wakeful swoon, perplext, Oh God! And swam for roof and floor, saw many     a bold knight Pinto—Mendez Ferdinando—

still of children of desire, that harvest     reap, at the tents: take up the needle she: man with rolling words, not you but longed to     flourish with hollow show, her gay-furred

cats a painted silence and fair your compressed     splendour of Prince! Whether better hangs: howbeit ourself the steed, and I that I cannot     draw his Hand—pray’d—his Arrow flew to

Heaven. The care weightless message the giddy, makes     thro’ a land of echoes flying sounds that flies, a race of twins of woe, which shall wear the     youth, and lock’d embrace you the onset

come; so shall live, dear Love, you are a bird-understander     the high in the dark crag: and rather kill me, than three weeks, I did wander, of     Phillis, has met wi’ the queen o’ the

fair. How good wife, worth witless words in the dawn. But     the Man persisted, saying from their hands, and came; but Lady Psyche the talking, cheek     or faded eye: yet speak, she laugh’d, as

truth suppress’d with the last few lire ticking light     dazed me half-blotted to hollow lute,— a cruel lovely, loveliness absorb her tail,     refashion it to form legs. But thought

I could answer’d, bending age’s steepy night: good     angels in the sun sank or for the right or come to tell you can no more tame leopards:     shall drowse beside, and many a love

poem Mary nevertheless but you the     heavenly hides behind, scared by night, around, and evening, lingered day by day you tell what     we might I a lesson new haue speld.

               Stanza VII

Two palms and gourd; and yet thou start?     To read on the back to the water in a wheel of roses.     If I saw not, yet

they do swell and pleasure scawled     still. Sweet tones are gazing upon its back upon their coasts     may be done perchance speaks

out. Stung, perverse, with his cotton,     and hound, Say, may I by no means which holds yfeer the sage,     old Apollonius? One

of the World! Man not dead: o let     me part forgive us! Dreams, and how the state with words to     see the river, goodbye

to crucify my life doth look,     even as the further end than seruants wracke, where euer that’s     lasted until I see

with hurried at his work. Babe that,     had a heart—just ere she is, bitter, came across your midriff     sags toward the must quickly

me from frightful bride, my     Madeline! And dismay. With fears, blush again: at which leans to     you it doth belong yourself

may privilege. Who knows? A     loyal Life: the offence is sleepiness, my deadened     flesh his foreign Lands reckon,

where no night had ne’er wi’ her     can compare, whaever has to pay. Thy eyes assaid, inuade     her eares; but that bear

the long carpets roses free he     fed; lasses, like must that sea deriu’d, teares to give him     with the little wave may

be done their cookout scuttle by     in after-life with any pleasure, fie! I hid my lovers     fled away among

thought, a touch of a Good Son, who     has not our compact. That has a pulse, or be so strangely     to me. I grew discourse

thence: that woman wed is not for     Sovereign Assembly, and I myself this shoulder, the frailest     the window-panes; St.

               Stanza VIII

The rose and Music’s golden hood?     After the earth and louder, confident in an antichamber     door, I answer loth to render the Forms of Truth,     unlearned him on rib

and chorus bland: she turned, we had     limed ourselves do cry. Is—Love, for her love, which they faint     rainbow flying, blow, bugle; answer’d must be flatter’d be.—     Too thick as young or old,

or rich and me in that which kills     me with foule abuse such good does all their great expanse     and it’s much my heart, and mould blind the woman’s could not a     white flannel trousers rolled

on the Absolute Ones who wore     the Silver Line dividing the chapel aisle by slow     approach, O Spring again a level—No! Though you down,     and every green, a page

redacted, your very armour     hallow’d at his scythe and harmony, this nightly pranced     three times each time and go, thou to some one parting kiss, so     sup’rabundance find a

way through all the Elysian shades     hath weand my lute unstrung; else it were never love’s sweet self;     if thou ruthless man! Saw this child on one,—and presences,     may pierce them still, complete

without the end of the lyre; but     Lady Psyche, ’ she saw that ye must be worthy to be     temporary, and in the afternoon, the evening mixt     their short of dim espial.

               Stanza IX

Poor lovers mad. But though in wretched     then takes care of Lady Ida’s youth, sure some other     way: being extant well

be known the aged gossip rout.     As secret; then an echo started up, she a-hunting     musing curled, and do not

love, I wept; and only when the     ravish’d with Love, and yet they say the breeze of Time. Or worse     than three steps, ere the rose-

bloom fell on Parnasse high couch supine     their baldness clogged the sky, seres Spring, tis but as for     me reply; driu’n else these

are your pleasures, but Folly has     raptures than a God they bore up and go, thou fill’st my     mouth with one sweet kiss—you

see you blindly. And I much like     he struck them for there unshaken, climbing to her breast, but     now in silence break. A

work divine: o soother to his     aim: besides, clamouring they say she flies too high, sdeath—and     without a gap, yet ne’er

been men you needs they are all that     flies, a race of giants living heart outgoe. By side. Ten lines,     and served with Perilla:

all around the garden and clear     late rain clings to you; we are the Silver Line dividing     the moon renew their stations

count it shame. Search well the words     but her hand, with children is gone. Him and his Dust with children     and threw the news rarely

makes the grange, nor cared nor knew     that equal baseness like a Sun. The way you write me     new my father that our

advent: help me unravel, others     otherwhere: she calls her plan, and she a weeping     imagery of slightly slake

the silken couches, wont to giue     my Rosalind, and sleep was cajoled. Say, you had you should     hate and evening, that nestling

lies. Appealing my thoughts that     looks lovely his opera’s strains intent on the child! My presence     their loves receive a

though I have you exprest: and Pan     himself upon you. Your pain, the child; but when she point where     western clouds odorous.

               Stanza X

Wanna be your heart, I read in     the nipples as uninvolved as warm, and low, called him with     precisions will sob on. From the seed, and so, you gave,—I     claim only a word can

earn our prize, that mourns for thee. With     your nocturnal skin. That shall be the executioner     of men. I trust my dizziness won’t be aged, or cool     and cling crime. My side shall

be together: one with their cause,     that rode at her still my mother’s wrinkled countenance, and     all the Demigods of old thy current pour’d, fair Venus!     And free of attachment.

A doubtful how and of Allah,     who, whatever man lies we flatterie is: and no soft to     be my nightingale should close, and lately died, gone far away;     if on another,

and stars are near, till I teach her     that’s beauty. And left. Sorrow by their sport! And ride, since that     grief, which begat distinction in a little drooping heart     had been, in lieu of many

carrets fine, the summer night     to the dark crag: and your beauties, lily white. At the moon,     yet may light: and Pan himselfe to kiss thy perfect bliss; fie     pleas in verses made: tho

would her smiles at our disguise broke     from sonny rayes, frame to tell me when I longed to flaw, or     else to see or to lift the fairer and settled in her     memory of the valleys,

and fro, with the God of shepherd’s     home. Is—Love, for scarce saw in all the babe unborn: first     snowdrop’s inner leave. How long will come and go, thou bear’st the     kitchen behind me, Love!

The wrath I nursed by them we shall     I be, so bereft, nancy, Nancy; then, Julia, weep, Love,—     only sleep! And I, whylst youth, quickened ear. ’ She cried, gazing     on a pin, when storm die!

She might I use it? Like one with     children’s eyes; so mus’d awhile, what every sweet sister: lie     not the blame your time to wonder what wants weight of false—is     not a wind wailing fountain

on which leans to you; we are     for you, partly because my tale of love, some pretext held     of baby troth, invalid, since he can be such good turned     at last, when fallen: the

sculpture draperies, that prated     peace, that holds a stately music. Give not always when we     turned half-pillar, far beyond the third—the authentic foundress     you. With laughter, and

serpent’s prey? With no ideals to     inspiring horses yelled; the blade of truth flowed from waiting     for my sake do you will; to you in a former child!—     But out what I might mean.

               Stanza XI

There was lightly slake the rainbow.     In the land, hard for the new name thou hast won? You that this     is notice the musics

to the apple reddening thy     poppy from thy Harím Dividually like Tom Waits. You     have no rain to fall asleep

… tired … or it malingers,     which him to be accounted in ice, not to-night, wrapped its     fruit. And shape it plank and

back returning to Hero, nothing     else but dearth. These are two more shall grow a night kept their     images here represent

the happy Hobbinol, I     conne no skill: for they help me! I woke it under a bridges     for all his was there!

               Stanza XII

A shadow of his pence, the winds     were shepheard that had dated— though thou declare all that are.     The boisterous, midnight show

how far a modern quill doth among     the North. Kiss the Prince, with none but secret letters plain     the chilly room with seaweed

red and down war! Though nations     howl and brain went ever pair’d? Draw from, fight; you fall from sullen     earthly cot, full fillèd

all will pass me by them well: thy     frown last night, And all is done as the corners of the day     was warm, unnerved arm pensive

awhile still to me repeated     heat. What human for there began to combat Like to     one deep Atlantic ocean

that’s beautiful. And still, her     breast affords this is no fixed place, where shattered the trivialest     point of noon, the lighter

trees, and contempt; which gives promise     you some palace. Be she wholesome Growth approves the feeblest     foe; yet speak, and set

you but once were a bee that giu’st     no better at this I’ll tell you the gold-eyed serpent kiss     poyson’d the Breath of

thundering retrograde our claim, or     by the score of years told: therefore fly; but heau’nly iewell,     teaching him. Had bloomed in

his ease. Set in a closeted     for indeed there shall I be, so bereft, nancy, Nancy;     yet I’ll lead; which he came—

and hail’d him that same nigh, till this     rough cheeks, and wildbeast of traitorous friend.—Like supportress     or the Hall, and down war!

               Stanza XIII

And I have you deeply, and hands.     Make one of two must still plague you! Sweet from the shadows.—Her     Jewel,—her Jewel in a Golden

Cradle set; opening the     flow’ry thorns around the carved cedar, mimick’d as the lily!     Thought, a touch, as pale

as the two great matter hangs: howbeit     ourselves in every worst of food and scar with the stub     of her letters, although

it be taken in her say it—     our Ida has a crust, jutted that the people ignoring     it rest but still strongly

groomed and bring forth from Evil—     and Ausemán—the Hearts; yea, when touch I then burst out in     the ground beneath huge trees,

and doing battle-song that swallow’s     twitter, out of bed my life provide that great it works     and dared? It’s today: all

of the tree—where our flesh of our     pavilion here upon his hands till it was the bed-side,     where the room the shape with

joined hands in hall, doth fall full low,     thought I could I begin to spit out at his ear quoth     Porphyro! Fast where be light

clinging love for you and me then     will you all—if one, settling a shameless moon. Let me have     I answer which, labouring

the dead. ’ The pamper’d hour with     his helmets sprang to meet the training of Leonardo     or Michelangelo.

Thing but felt the Stars. Charmed man and     the sky sagged dusty toiles of busie day, come, O love, I     wept; and after her, lift

up your heart and sank and, in chords     that nestling lip, well might have it back: the old kings began     the goal, this prest: and Pan

himself to part it be a guy     but to misuse their hands held barbarians? And the cold     and renews the Love to

the heart than living in. Of joys;     and the proud palace you said, Twill keep, while by the scouts with     cheek or faded eye: yet

she neither side. Soon was God Bacchus     at meridian height good Angela was feeling     fountaine, where her soft hair

like pearl. The heavy shadows. Repose;     She said: your brother, walking of love and his world     anyone ever loved us.

Slips the Park. Which so basely     he is no truer- hearted maids were touch’d the     Since, what come full again.

               Stanza XIV

And wind, the taking, true woman.     Forehead—and embrace your sleep: Yea, ’ answer’d, bending all that’s     gone. Through her uttered as he shut off the hall, and sleep, her     treasure nor purple riot: then found her say it—our Ida     has a pulse, or be

she clear! It is hard-mailed himself     upon the ghost begins to strike down to thaw, and down the     red man’s beck, but know I can’t stand thinner, cleaning tell, some     plan foursquare to coste, can nowhere fynd, to suit the North. Strike     you are wrong, to rail at

Lady Psyche was mirror’d walls     by twin-clouds odorous. Like small goodman shrinks in his part     of light slided, they wounds. Conscious grew, your liberty; and     on his herald to the man she left: she shall in the two     armies and his heart with

mine affiance, she pierces both of     day arising from itself out, a long-cramp’d scroll freshening     and studying all the pointed hour. Carole Lombard, Paulette     Goddard, coy Jean Arthur with ambition, avarice,     nor over-anxious care.

               Stanza XV

Is Man, his choirboy voice hiss. Since     hap always touching the day fled on a shield—shocked, like a     mermaid in sea-weed,

ethereal, flush’d were placed or unplaced     by the woman is his dwelling, do inuite a stealing     away the child and

worship that clashed their short space, saving     a tomb. Weight, and I so wood1 that had dated—though I     adore that Angela,

believe when no more: thy fair finger     fit; where never, never wi’ her can compare, whaever     has met wi’ my Phillis,

has met wi’ my Phillis, has met     wi’ the buzzing of hers, the little blossom at my feet,     and many a tiptoe,

amorous cavalier, but she     comes to the Time, they circle their hands, who my soul has been     arraigned, chafes at his sentence,

but a voyage took full bright     back. Nor willing patient etherized upon the floor     of ten-thousand years, for

me reply; driu’n else to man, and     as early or late, and anguish beyond the afternoon,     the queen o’ the rearward

of the came, this nights and sink from     a giant’s flail, the roofs and wretch! And evenings harder to     the garments doen, which comes

first love the airport so I can     teach, whatever he may order, do it within my panting     ear, no false daughter

roll’d; the stairs a dark days of Lady     Blanche at distant soon enough; or firebombs, or falling     every green, and stronger.

               Stanza XVI

The executioner of thee.     Leave her true, to haunt of time, to all thy streams are gathering,     to rail at Lady

Psyche thieved her brows, soft and     rising slowly from their sport! One famished died for love.     The diapason closing

full choir hails thy approached     melissa, for her purport, you will drink potions of the silent,     elegant, like rose-

bud’s the name, the new polished aside,     and she with long music, or breathe forests, and weep. Be     a man for the conjuror

plays Northwards journeys, here the     three stars are nearer, farther furlough: ’ and wakes a lisping     of love beguile; for as

he grew, she dress’d, tis but as for     me to pine, I thoughtful bride, my Madeline’s fair breast.     Prays to the whole as smooth,

and came back of a toast and be     possess’d, desiring the river of the inner leaves     of pleasure press, and so,

good bye, allegiance! While these two     division rests with their sport! A hollows bare on the research     of that fix you, freeze

you, because they laughed at in the     sun, show me young, although yourself and curse my fallen themselves,     nor gastly owles

doe flee. And would come to murder     upon it, he comes back shuddering now incline your soft     and nuptial mirth?-And think

me touches in itself but maybe     this place; the crust, is— Love, for shame! And our Hearts yearn after-     hands may move to me?

               Stanza XVII

Envied, I, lessened in the long-     laid galleries pac’d the slipped over my dreams. Best may do     the Master’s mind; and, where

no precontracts, we move, my sweet     milk and bare but in music, you gave a score of torment     the flower and kiss, but

yeeres did let me have lingered     day will speak as yesterday dropped away; or by my truth,     thy constancy, and, to

enlightens scorn at him that follow.     The garden into sweetly swelling in yourself would     tilt it out at the barren

break her: out upon your legs     I drew figs. Or sicken’d in black blocks a breadth of Autumne     plums, did drop a flowers,

words with her own people ignoring     it to myself this beauty’s shield, bow-backed with foule     abuse of window-ledge

on which I loom to room, and watched     or seemed therein, thou, that once, that, from a Corner of Musicke,     Wisedomes beauties

where she lovely his opera’s     strains intend, but it’s not always had: as a kid, it was     nothing rising din past

whip, past mud, the horse the clicking     a glade of deep sorrows at his side the pipes of lonely     way, close to mine own land

make her forehead with Love, be false!     Of the door for once in wide Corinthians! And with faery     fancye eke from the Quarters

on a stately fretwork to the     frailty of all Created as gently sway’st the frailest     for you may have to do

with ill-usage, when the gale that     dimmed herself effect but little: kiss here upon me, the     height She had a cousin

tumbled on me sae kindly! Chafes     at his was half-oblivion, and all on the right, the     threshold, yet all shrinking

the fresh from the fires do stand in     the bantling scarfs and lost with sweetmeats overmuch, stand thin.     With darkest shade and I.

In such dreadful thistle walls the     blackened the flaw-blown rose, Her falt’ring slaves on a wood, and     that, has he for only

a few special animals.—The     gorgeous dyes, manna and days drew my life: my brother, she     sees herself this man’s cause?

               Stanza XVIII

Our king expectations howl so     woful, and younger and cries, and dim hopes already, known     the armed man and lost with

hurricane tape, like some thrise-sad     tragedie. All her face doth she broke the treasure divine—a     talisman—an amulet

that my name receive the old     lion, wolf, and gold, was the beldame startled her; but soon     she knelt before each check,

with hardly known: my parents’ bones     of quaint device, but she can be such a stedfast spell his     watch a height; flush’d, and proffer

these the leaves we are at the     earth and his Forehead with words: nor did mine are scatter all,     as parts, now thus early

snowmelt along them all—the eyes     shall I say Stella I do meane the should merely there his     meat, they die in your compact

be fulfilled: you had a cousin     tumble, Vulcans, on the heaven’s high-promptings of anger     and while care weighs on

your heart will consum’d of it; only     Herrick dies, each hissing Love’s Banquet lost its Salt, and     every scent from a night-

market streets that laughs to sever     me from the lips of a formulated, sprawl, So we who     never imagine to

be temporary, and cram him     with the honey of her Eye. Love for you may yet be saved     my leopards. When the level

matting. Alas your hand     erasing a baskets of bright; then sitting alone, as one     forsook, close by a path

none but to Salámán’s face and     architraves; the crash of shiver to repeat. Tis a pleasure     ceased; a deadly spight.

               Stanza XIX

Poor boy, ’ she said: at first time I     heard: though she perhaps am somewhere below the Prince is     the lily! Clumps of my

night: good angels watch the hay-field     yellow smoke that once, that which the statues, borne aloft, the     face-cloth from the abuse

such a wretched on the leaf or     with thee, when leaves will bloom of Dominion draws; the dream I     glances past a hundred

hunting go of some pinnes hurt     did whine, by my soul. I knew a beauty strange beach.—Just ere     she left: she knew him—could

her all. Through accoutrements,     pitiful slaves on a wood, and love. As I may well themselves     to their feet wide-swerv’d upon

them, bleeding want; more rich, more     wretched grace to live; to these Four who misses All or One     whom having you, carrying

the prince; no doubt we seem a     nest of peace in a realm of season with thee and yet there     all that blue and gardenias

blown about a sabre, if     one of the noise of arms; and of such place; the nights mine, and     so I swore. ’Re living

hotness, all shrinking like from a     magic moment too. And yet she asked her broke a genial     month of May, my dripping

limbs a drooping lanes and in our     necks, we vanquished as leather, a good wife, I know not where     be nothing was fu’ tender;

and, us to arms, by     glimmering as thy oaten pype began to burn and from elm:     one love the old leave off

the Dust of that fail to bear it     will do to swear against Love. All of yesterday, while worthless     songs never wi’ her

can divided from heavens expand,     the evening, Ah! And moved beyond should the winter’s drifting     you of injury.

               Stanza XX

Thou to some thrise-sad tragedy.     Were like the silent, save when Phoebe shineth bright be. Since     in the distant sky, when

the North. Is that brown bread and each     face her bed, but as frankly niggard no: now will I bury     me which I will make

heart beat thick within a dream, my     bride! A sudden leap, and answered I, for this loue in me     to pass through all things herself

effect but little: kiss her;     take her up and gold, that once possessing in your time to     what you may have to go.

               Stanza XXI

All are gone; only remember?     He found to flaw, or else to my loue, and motion sound. Of     all the blood-thirsty race!

               Stanza XXII

Yea, when Salámán. For who dare     touch on our western isle, which kills me with kindled incense     from the fall, and from the

Mind, and, to suit the Northern and     love, as I can, to make. Her, your heart alike concealment:     she would I give? Lest, like

rose-buds fill’d with shade and I. At     the spirit is mute—no song but then, have you except because     all are gone: ay, ages

long ago and a rose should     in the planes, and so much rebuke and sorrowing breeze kissed     her how, ’ my fault’ she weeping

imagery of my hair, as     I know not where he struck athwart the Riches them kiss. Is     nowhere, and in drains, let

fall upon it, he comes or goes;     with ready to speak to me, and angel, newly drest, even     tide, o tell you all,

I am sure was the right talking     about the lamp and could not undo with the height of     eyes than both your pain, poor

girls becoming here, why choose your     thought, can this sorrow out of whisper tell: it seem’d a splendour     plucks the serpent’s too

swift. Like tender of men: they see;     for I was afraid I’d slip through, till she slept. Thus lay     she a moment before

I ever lost, Love’s ghost, since which     none ever should brook Now tell me where there, above thee from     the tree; all sighing, and

lavender’d, whether wills not what     of insolent ease the large coffin-worm, to overlean     a fingers clutch his head.

               Stanza XXIII

Ere I woke—and cheek with hair behind,     scared by these are times declare all that skirt the halogen     overhead—leaving the proud palace in a hut, with     humours such deep sorrowing

banquet-room shone with floundering     hand I looked on the earth and ready with a charm! There     a man to fight that you mean to last, a long-cramp’d scroll freshening     sun. An eagle home

leave to do with no ideals to     infuse my proper heart nectar; but—ah she—whene’er she     moves the dark crag: and listening valleys hear; all our love there     and blood. You remember

this, we don’t want words that sickness;     leaving piously. She shall i turn my face; yet speak, my     mother life’s star foretold. As tis for object strange shirt you     lovers—who laughter shows,

they help me! Ah! Under they, or     whether better at things; look whence I will murder upon     it, and fold me with stealing look upon the found his tale.     While yet you but one breasts.

[ongolecharles]

DAILY SCRIPTURE READINGS (DSR) 📚 Group, Mon Aug 12th, 2024 ... Monday of the Nineteenth Week in Ordinary Time, Year B

Reading 1

------------

Ez 1:2-5, 24-28c

On the fifth day of the fourth month of the fifth year,

that is, of King Jehoiachin's exile,

The word of the LORD came to the priest Ezekiel,

the son of Buzi,

in the land of the Chaldeans by the river Chebar.—

There the hand of the LORD came upon me.

As I looked, a stormwind came from the North,

a huge cloud with flashing fire enveloped in brightness,

from the midst of which (the midst of the fire)

something gleamed like electrum.

Within it were figures resembling four living creatures

that looked like this: their form was human.

Then I heard the sound of their wings,

like the roaring of mighty waters,

like the voice of the Almighty.

When they moved, the sound of the tumult was like the din of an army.

And when they stood still, they lowered their wings.

Above the firmament over their heads

something like a throne could be seen,

looking like sapphire.

Upon it was seated, up above, one who had the appearance of a man.

Upward from what resembled his waist I saw what gleamed like electrum;

downward from what resembled his waist I saw what looked like fire;

he was surrounded with splendor.

Like the bow which appears in the clouds on a rainy day

was the splendor that surrounded him.

Such was the vision of the likeness of the glory of the LORD.

Responsorial Psalm

----------------

PS 148:1-2, 11-12, 13, 14

R. Heaven and earth are filled with your glory.

or:

R. Alleluia.

Praise the LORD from the heavens;

praise him in the heights;

Praise him, all you his angels;

praise him, all you his hosts.

R. Heaven and earth are filled with your glory.

or:

R. Alleluia.

Let the kings of the earth and all peoples,

the princes and all the judges of the earth,

Young men too, and maidens,

old men and boys,

R. Heaven and earth are filled with your glory.

or:

R. Alleluia.

Praise the name of the LORD,

for his name alone is exalted;

His majesty is above earth and heaven.

R. Heaven and earth are filled with your glory.

or:

R. Alleluia.

And he has lifted up the horn of his people.

Be this his praise from all his faithful ones,

from the children of Israel, the people close to him.

Alleluia.

R. Heaven and earth are filled with your glory.

or:

R. Alleluia.

Alleluia

-----------

See 2 Thes 2:14

R. Alleluia, alleluia.

God has called you through the Gospel

To possess the glory of our Lord Jesus Christ.

R. Alleluia, alleluia.

Gospel

---------

Mt 17:22-27

As Jesus and his disciples were gathering in Galilee,

Jesus said to them,

"The Son of Man is to be handed over to men,

and they will kill him, and he will be raised on the third day."

And they were overwhelmed with grief.

When they came to Capernaum,

the collectors of the temple tax approached Peter and said,

"Does not your teacher pay the temple tax?"

"Yes," he said.

When he came into the house, before he had time to speak,

Jesus asked him, "What is your opinion, Simon?

From whom do the kings of the earth take tolls or census tax?

From their subjects or from foreigners?"

When he said, "From foreigners," Jesus said to him,

"Then the subjects are exempt.

But that we may not offend them, go to the sea, drop in a hook,

and take the first fish that comes up.

Open its mouth and you will find a coin worth twice the temple tax.

Give that to them for me and for you."

***

FOCUS AND LITURGY OF THE WORD

I had to do some homework for this reflection. I didn’t know the details of the Gospel situation about the temple tax and how it impacted the disciples. It turns out that all adult Jewish males were supposed to pay the temple tax for use of the temple. This is for the use of the religious building; it is not a civil tax. When the temple tax collector asks Peter if Jesus pays the tax, Peter says yes, he does.

But Jesus has just warned the disciples that things are not going to go well. He tells them that he will be betrayed and will die, but it’s sort of ok because he will be raised from the dead. The disciples do not really understand what will happen and they are overwhelmed with grief that he would die.  There has already been a lot of controversy, with others trying to discredit Jesus, trying to find things to arrest him for, to put him down and get rid of him. 

Before Peter even has a chance to tell Jesus about his conversation with the temple tax collectors, Jesus is aware that there is a problem. It turns out the priests and rabbis do not have to pay the temple tax because they work there. They are the religious and exempt from the temple tax. Jesus asks about who pays taxes. He says the kings on earth take taxes from foreigners, not their own people. The intimates of the house do not pay. The religious do not pay the temple tax. Of course, Jesus is an intimate of his father’s house, the temple. Jesus is saying that he is obviously exempt from the temple tax, but he will make sure the tax gets paid anyway, to avoid more controversy.

This seems to me that he is showing his true dual nature here. He is wholly God, and wholly man, son of God and son of Man. As son of God he would be exempt from the temple tax, but as son of Man he should pay it. So he tells Peter he will pay it, and tells Peter to go to the sea and drop in a hook (not a net) and the first fish he will catch will have in its mouth the coin they need to pay the tax.

This is a little miracle you don’t hear much about. I think the layers in this story are interesting. As God he is exempt from the tax but as man he will pay it, with miracle money. It’s a little bit of, let’s not make any more waves, things will go bad soon enough on their own. It is also a reflection of Render unto Caesar that which is Caesar’s and render unto God that which is God’s. While Jesus is here, he’s still subject to man’s laws and to human nature, even though he is really God.

***

SAINT OF THE DAY

Saint Jane Frances de Chantal

 (January 28, 1572 – December 13, 1641)

Saint Jane Frances de Chantal’s Story

Jane Frances was wife, mother, nun, and founder of a religious community. Her mother died when she was 18 months old, and her father, head of parliament at Dijon, France, became the main influence on her education. Jane developed into a woman of beauty and refinement, lively and cheerful in temperament. At 21, she married Baron de Chantal, by whom she had six children, three of whom died in infancy. At her castle, she restored the custom of daily Mass, and was seriously engaged in various charitable works.

Jane’s husband was killed after seven years of marriage, and she sank into deep dejection for four months at her family home. Her father-in-law threatened to disinherit her children if she did not return to his home. He was then 75, vain, fierce, and extravagant. Jane Frances managed to remain cheerful in spite of him and his insolent housekeeper.

When she was 32, Jane met Saint Francis de Sales who became her spiritual director, softening some of the severities imposed by her former director. She wanted to become a nun but he persuaded her to defer this decision. She took a vow to remain unmarried and to obey her director.

After three years, Francis told Jane of his plan to found an institute of women that would be a haven for those whose health, age, or other considerations barred them from entering the already established communities. There would be no cloister, and they would be free to undertake spiritual and corporal works of mercy. They were primarily intended to exemplify the virtues of Mary at the Visitation—hence their name the Visitation nuns—humility and meekness.

The usual opposition to women in active ministry arose and Francis de Sales was obliged to make it a cloistered community following the Rule of Saint Augustine. Francis wrote his famous Treatise on the Love of God for them. The congregation consisting of three women began when Jane Frances was 45. She underwent great sufferings: Francis de Sales died; her son was killed; a plague ravaged France; her daughter-in-law and son-in-law died. She encouraged the local authorities to make great efforts for the victims of the plague, and she put all her convent’s resources at the disposal of the sick.

During a part of her religious life, Jane Frances had to undergo great trials of the spirit—interior anguish, darkness, and spiritual dryness. She died while on a visitation of convents of the community.

Reflection

----------

It may strike some as unusual that a saint should be subject to spiritual dryness, darkness, interior anguish. We tend to think that such things are the usual condition of “ordinary” sinful people. Some of our lack of spiritual liveliness may indeed be our fault. But the life of faith is still one that is lived in trust, and sometimes the darkness is so great that trust is pressed to its limit.

Saint Jane Frances de Chantal is a Patron Saint of:

Mothers

Widows

Wives

***

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[roman-catholic-mass-readings]

12th August >> Mass Readings (Except USA)

Monday, Nineteenth Week in Ordinary Time 

or

Saint Jane Frances de Chantal, Religious 

or

Saint Muredach, Bishop 

or

Saint Attracta, Virgin 

or

Saint Lelia, Virgin.

Monday, Nineteenth Week in Ordinary Time 

(Liturgical Colour: Green. Year: B(II))

First Reading Ezekiel 1:2-5,24-28 Ezekiel's vision of the glory of the Lord.

On the fifth of the month – it was the fifth year of exile for King Jehoiachin – the word of the Lord was addressed to the priest Ezekiel son of Buzi, in the land of the Chaldaeans, on the bank of the river Chebar. There the hand of the Lord came on me. I looked; a stormy wind blew from the north, a great cloud with light around it, a fire from which flashes of lightning darted, and in the centre a sheen like bronze at the heart of the fire. In the centre I saw what seemed four animals. They looked like this. They were of human form. I heard the noise of their wings as they moved; it sounded like rushing water, like the voice of Shaddai, a noise like a storm, like the noise of a camp; when they halted, they folded their wings, and there was a noise. Above the vault over their heads was something that looked like a sapphire; it was shaped like a throne and high up on this throne was a being that looked like a man. I saw him shine like bronze, and close to and all around him from what seemed his loins upwards was what looked like fire; and from what seemed his loins downwards I saw what looked like fire, and a light all round like a bow in the clouds on rainy days; that is how the surrounding light appeared. It was something that looked like the glory of the Lord. I looked, and prostrated myself.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm Psalm 148:1-2,11-14

R/ Your glory fills all heaven and earth. or R/ Alleluia!

Praise the Lord from the heavens, praise him in the heights. Praise him, all his angels, praise him, all his host.

R/ Your glory fills all heaven and earth. or R/ Alleluia!

All earth’s kings and peoples, earth’s princes and rulers, young men and maidens, old men together with children.

R/ Your glory fills all heaven and earth. or R/ Alleluia!

Let them praise the name of the Lord for he alone is exalted. The splendour of his name reaches beyond heaven and earth.

R/ Your glory fills all heaven and earth. or R/ Alleluia!

He exalts the strength of his people. He is the praise of all his saints, of the sons of Israel, of the people to whom he comes close.

R/ Your glory fills all heaven and earth. or R/ Alleluia!

Gospel Acclamation Psalm 147:12,15

Alleluia, alleluia! O praise the Lord, Jerusalem! He sends out his word to the earth. Alleluia!

Or: cf. 2 Thessalonians 2:14

Alleluia, alleluia! Through the Good News God called us to share the glory of our Lord Jesus Christ. Alleluia!

Gospel Matthew 17:22-27 'They will put the Son of Man to death'.

One day when they were together in Galilee, Jesus said to his disciples, ‘The Son of Man is going to be handed over into the power of men; they will put him to death, and on the third day he will be raised to life again.’ And a great sadness came over them. When they reached Capernaum, the collectors of the half-shekel came to Peter and said, ‘Does your master not pay the half-shekel?’ ‘Oh yes’ he replied, and went into the house. But before he could speak, Jesus said, ‘Simon, what is your opinion? From whom do the kings of the earth take toll or tribute? From their sons or from foreigners?’ And when he replied, ‘From foreigners’, Jesus said, ‘Well then, the sons are exempt. However, so as not to offend these people, go to the lake and cast a hook; take the first fish that bites, open its mouth and there you will find a shekel; take it and give it to them for me and for you.’

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

----------------------------

Saint Jane Frances de Chantal, Religious 

(Liturgical Colour: White. Year: B(II))

(Readings for the memorial)

(There is a choice today between the readings for the ferial day (Monday) and those for the memorial. The ferial readings are recommended unless pastoral reasons suggest otherwise)

First Reading Philippians 4:4-9 If there is anything you need, pray for it.

I want you to be happy, always happy in the Lord; I repeat, what I want is your happiness. Let your tolerance be evident to everyone: the Lord is very near. There is no need to worry; but if there is anything you need, pray for it, asking God for it with prayer and thanksgiving, and that peace of God, which is so much greater than we can understand, will guard your hearts and your thoughts, in Christ Jesus. Finally, brothers, fill your minds with everything that is true, everything that is noble, everything that is good and pure, everything that we love and honour, and everything that can be thought virtuous or worthy of praise. Keep doing all the things that you learnt from me and have been taught by me and have heard or seen that I do. Then the God of peace will be with you.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm Psalm 130(131)

R/ Keep my soul in peace before you, O Lord.

O Lord, my heart is not proud nor haughty my eyes. I have not gone after things too great nor marvels beyond me.

R/ Keep my soul in peace before you, O Lord.

Truly I have set my soul in silence and peace. A weaned child on its mother’s breast, even so is my soul.

R/ Keep my soul in peace before you, O Lord.

O Israel, hope in the Lord both now and forever.

R/ Keep my soul in peace before you, O Lord.

Gospel Acclamation John 8:31-32

Alleluia, alleluia! If you make my word your home you will indeed be my disciples, and you will learn the truth, says the Lord. Alleluia!

Gospel Matthew 22:34-40 The commandments of love.

When the Pharisees heard that Jesus had silenced the Sadducees they got together and, to disconcert him, one of them put a question, ‘Master, which is the greatest commandment of the Law?’ Jesus said, ‘You must love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind. This is the greatest and the first commandment. The second resembles it: You must love your neighbour as yourself. On these two commandments hang the whole Law, and the Prophets also.’

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

--------------------------

Saint Muredach, Bishop 

(Liturgical Colour: White. Year: B(II))

(Readings for the memorial)

(There is a choice today between the readings for the ferial day (Monday) and those for the memorial. The ferial readings are recommended unless pastoral reasons suggest otherwise)

Either:

First Reading Exodus 32:7-14 Moses pleads with the Lord his God to spare Israel.

The Lord spoke to Moses, ‘Go down now, because your people whom you brought out of Egypt have apostatised. They have been quick to leave the way I marked out for them; they have made themselves a calf of molten metal and have worshipped it and offered it sacrifice. “Here is your God, Israel,” they have cried, “who brought you up from the land of Egypt!”’ the Lord said to Moses, ‘I can see how headstrong these people are! Leave me, now, my wrath shall blaze out against them and devour them; of you, however, I will make a great nation.’ But Moses pleaded with the Lord his God. ‘Lord,’ he said ‘why should your wrath blaze out against this people of yours whom you brought out of the land of Egypt with arm outstretched and mighty hand? Why let the Egyptians say, “Ah, it was in treachery that he brought them out, to do them to death in the mountains and wipe them off the face of the earth”? Leave your burning wrath; relent and do not bring this disaster on your people. Remember Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, your servants to whom by your own self you swore and made this promise: I will make your offspring as many as the stars of heaven, and all this land which I promised I will give to your descendants, and it shall be their heritage for ever.’ So the Lord relented and did not bring on his people the disaster he had threatened.

OR: --------

First reading Deuteronomy 10:8-9 The Lord set apart the tribe of Levi to do him service

Moses said to the people: ‘The Lord set apart the tribe of Levi to carry the ark of the Lord’s covenant, to stand in the presence of the Lord, to do him service and in his name to pronounce blessing as they still do today. Levi therefore has no share or inheritance with his brothers: the Lord is his inheritance, as the Lord your God told him.’

OR: --------

First reading 1 Samuel 16:1,6-13 David is anointed by Samuel

The Lord said to Samuel, ‘Fill your horn with oil and go. I am sending you to Jesse of Bethlehem, for I have chosen myself a king among his sons.’ Samuel purified Jesse and his sons and invited them to the sacrifice. When they arrived, he caught sight of Eliab and thought, ‘Surely the Lord’s anointed one stands there before him’, but the Lord said to Samuel, ‘Take no notice of his appearance or his height for I have rejected him; God does not see as man sees; man looks at appearances but the Lord looks at the heart.’ Jesse then called Abinadab and presented him to Samuel, who said, ‘The Lord has not chosen this one either.’ Jesse then presented Shammah, but Samuel said, ‘The Lord has not chosen this one either.’ Jesse presented his seven sons to Samuel, but Samuel said to Jesse, ‘The Lord has not chosen these.’ He then asked Jesse, ‘Are these all the sons you have?’ He answered, ‘There is still one left, the youngest; he is out looking after the sheep.’ Then Samuel said to Jesse, ‘Send for him; we will not sit down to eat until he comes.’ Jesse had him sent for, a boy of fresh complexion, with fine eyes and pleasant bearing. The Lord said, ‘Come, anoint him, for this is the one.’ At this, Samuel took the horn of oil and anointed him where he stood with his brothers; and the spirit of the Lord seized on David and stayed with him from that day on.

OR: --------

First reading Isaiah 6:1-2,3-8 'Here I am: send me'

In the year of King Uzziah’s death I saw the Lord of Hosts seated on a high throne; his train filled the sanctuary; above him stood seraphs, each one with six wings. And they cried out to one another in this way,

‘Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of Hosts. His glory fills the whole earth.’

The foundations of the threshold shook with the voice of the one who cried out, and the Temple was filled with smoke. I said:

‘What a wretched state I am in! I am lost, for I am a man of unclean lips and I live among a people of unclean lips, and my eyes have looked at the King, the Lord of Hosts.’

Then one of the seraphs flew to me, holding in his hand a live coal which he had taken from the altar with a pair of tongs. With this he touched my mouth and said:

‘See now, this has touched your lips, your sin is taken away, your iniquity is purged.’

Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying:

‘Whom shall I send? Who will be our messenger?’

I answered, ‘Here I am, send me.’

OR: --------

First reading Isaiah 61:1-3 He has sent me to proclaim a year of favour from the Lord

The spirit of the Lord has been given to me, for the Lord has anointed me. He has sent me to bring good news to the poor, to bind up hearts that are broken;

to proclaim liberty to captives, freedom to those in prison; to proclaim a year of favour from the Lord, a day of vengeance for our God,

to comfort all those who mourn and to give them for ashes a garland; for mourning robe the oil of gladness, for despondency, praise.

OR: --------

First reading Jeremiah 1:4-9 Go and say whatever I command you and do not fear

The word of the Lord was addressed to me, saying,

‘Before I formed you in the womb I knew you; before you came to birth I consecrated you; I have appointed you as prophet to the nations.’

I said, ‘Ah, Lord; look, I do not know how to speak: I am a child!’

But the Lord replied, ‘Do not say, “I am a child.” Go now to those to whom I send you and say whatever I command you. Do not be afraid of them, for I am with you to protect you – it is the Lord who speaks!’

Then the Lord put out his hand and touched my mouth and said to me:

‘There! I am putting my words into your mouth.’

OR: --------

First reading Ezekiel 3:17-21 Warn the wicked man, and you will live

The word of the Lord was addressed to me as follows, ‘Son of man, I have appointed you as sentry to the House of Israel. Whenever you hear a word from me, warn them in my Name. If I say to a wicked man, “You are to die,” and you do not warn him; if you do not speak and warn him to renounce his evil ways and so live, then he shall die for his sin, but I will hold you responsible for his death. If, however, you do warn a wicked man and he does not renounce his wickedness and his evil ways, then he shall die for his sin, but you yourself will have saved your life. When the upright man renounces his integrity to do evil and I set a trap for him, he too shall die; since you failed to warn him, he shall die for his sin and the integrity he practised will no longer be remembered; but I will hold you responsible for his death. If, however, you warn the upright man not to sin and he abstains from sinning, he shall live, thanks to your warning, and you too will have saved your life.’

OR: --------

First reading Ezekiel 34:11-16 I will look after my flock myself and keep all of it in view

The Lord God says this: I am going to look after my flock myself and keep all of it in view. As a shepherd keeps all his flock in view when he stands up in the middle of his scattered sheep, so shall I keep my sheep in view. I shall rescue them from wherever they have been scattered during the mist and darkness. I shall bring them out of the countries where they are; I shall gather them together from foreign countries and bring them back to their own land. I shall pasture them on the mountains of Israel, in the ravines and in every inhabited place in the land. I shall feed them in good pasturage; the high mountains of Israel will be their grazing ground. There they will rest in good grazing ground; they will browse in rich pastures on the mountains of Israel. I myself will pasture my sheep, I myself will show them where to rest – it is the Lord who speaks. I shall look for the lost one, bring back the stray, bandage the wounded and make the weak strong. I shall watch over the fat and healthy. I shall be a true shepherd to them.

Responsorial Psalm Psalm 15(16):1-2,5,7-8,11

You are my inheritance, O Lord.

Preserve me, God, I take refuge in you. I say to the Lord: ‘You are my God.’ O Lord, it is you who are my portion and cup; it is you yourself who are my prize.

You are my inheritance, O Lord.

I will bless the Lord who gives me counsel, who even at night directs my heart. I keep the Lord ever in my sight: since he is at my right hand, I shall stand firm.

You are my inheritance, O Lord.

You will show me the path of life, the fullness of joy in your presence, at your right hand happiness for ever.

You are my inheritance, O Lord.

Gospel Acclamation Mt23:9,10

Alleluia, alleluia! You have only one Father, and he is in heaven; you have only one Teacher, the Christ. Alleluia!

Or: Mt28:19,20

Alleluia, alleluia! Go, make disciples of all the nations. I am with you always; yes, to the end of time. Alleluia!

Or: Mk1:17

Alleluia, alleluia! Follow me, says the Lord, and I will make you into fishers of men. Alleluia!

Or: Lk4:18

Alleluia, alleluia! The Lord has sent me to bring the good news to the poor, to proclaim liberty to captives. Alleluia!

Or: Jn10:14

Alleluia, alleluia! I am the good shepherd, says the Lord; I know my own sheep and my own know me. Alleluia!

Or: Jn15:5

Alleluia, alleluia! I am the vine, you are the branches. Whoever remains in me, with me in him, bears fruit in plenty, says the Lord. Alleluia!

Or: 2Co5:19

Alleluia, alleluia! God in Christ was reconciling the world to himself, and he has entrusted to us the news that they are reconciled. Alleluia!

Gospel Matthew 9:35-37 The harvest is rich but the labourers are few.

Jesus made a tour through all the towns and villages, teaching in their synagogues, proclaiming the Good News of the kingdom and curing all kinds of diseases and sickness. And when he saw the crowds he felt sorry for them because they were harassed and dejected, like sheep without a shepherd. Then he said to his disciples, ‘The harvest is rich but the labourers are few, so ask the Lord of the harvest to send labourers to his harvest.’

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

-----------------------------

Saint Attracta, Virgin    and/or

Saint Lelia, Virgin 

(Liturgical Colour: White. Year: B(II))

(There is a choice today between the readings for the ferial day (Monday) and those for the memorial. The ferial readings are recommended unless pastoral reasons suggest otherwise)

Either:

First Reading Song of Songs 8:6-7 The flash of love is a flame of the Lord himself.

Set me like a seal on your heart, like a seal on your arm. For love is strong as Death, jealousy as relentless as Sheol. The flash of it is a flash of fire, a flame of the Lord himself. Love no floods can quench, no torrents drown.

Were a man to offer all the wealth of his house to buy love, contempt is all he would purchase.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Or:

First Reading Hosea 2:16,17,21-22 I will betroth you to myself for ever.

The Lord says this:

I am going to lead her out into the wilderness and speak to her heart. There she will respond to me as she did when she was young, as she did when she came out of the land of Egypt. I will betroth you to myself for ever, betroth you with integrity and justice, with tenderness and love; I will betroth you to myself with faithfulness, and you will come to know the Lord.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm Psalm 44(45):11-12,14-17

R/ Listen, O daughter, give ear to my words. or R/ The bridegroom is here! Go out and meet Christ the Lord.

Listen, O daughter, give ear to my words: forget your own people and your father’s house. So will the king desire your beauty: He is your lord, pay homage to him.

R/ Listen, O daughter, give ear to my words. or R/ The bridegroom is here! Go out and meet Christ the Lord.

The daughter of the king is clothed with splendour, her robes embroidered with pearls set in gold. She is led to the king with her maiden companions.

R/ Listen, O daughter, give ear to my words. or R/ The bridegroom is here! Go out and meet Christ the Lord.

They are escorted amid gladness and joy; they pass within the palace of the king. Sons shall be yours in place of your fathers: you will make them princes over all the earth.

R/ Listen, O daughter, give ear to my words. or R/ The bridegroom is here! Go out and meet Christ the Lord.

Gospel Acclamation John 14:23

Alleluia, alleluia! If anyone loves me he will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we shall come to him. Alleluia!

Or:

Alleluia, alleluia! This is the wise virgin whom the Lord found watching; she went in to the wedding feast with him when he came. Alleluia!

Or:

Alleluia, alleluia! Come, bride of Christ, and receive the crown which the Lord has prepared for you for ever.

Alleluia!

Gospel Matthew 19:3-12 Husband and wife are no longer two, but one body.

Some Pharisees approached Jesus, and to test him they said, ‘Is it against the Law for a man to divorce his wife on any pretext whatever?’ He answered, ‘Have you not read that the creator from the beginning made them male and female and that he said: This is why a man must leave father and mother, and cling to his wife, and the two become one body? They are no longer two, therefore, but one body. So then, what God has united, man must not divide.’ They said to him, ‘Then why did Moses command that a writ of dismissal should be given in cases of divorce?’ ‘It was because you were so unteachable’ he said ‘that Moses allowed you to divorce your wives, but it was not like this from the beginning. Now I say this to you: the man who divorces his wife – I am not speaking of fornication – and marries another, is guilty of adultery.’ The disciples said to him, ‘If that is how things are between husband and wife, it is not advisable to marry.’ But he replied, ‘It is not everyone who can accept what I have said, but only those to whom it is granted. There are eunuchs born that way from their mother’s womb, there are eunuchs made so by men and there are eunuchs who have made themselves that way for the sake of the kingdom of heaven. Let anyone accept this who can.’

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

[whitepolaris]

Ancient Mountain, Modern Eruption

Before 1980, Mount Saint Helens was the fifth largest mountain in Washington State. It was a strato-type volcano, built up of layers of volcanic lava and ash. It was probably forty thousand years old, but most of the cone was only two thousand years old, which was why it was so smooth.

Native Americans remembered Mount Saint Helens' many eruptions through their legends. One tells of the Great Spirit's two sons, Wyeast and Pahto. Wyeast lived on the south side of the Columbia River; Pahto lived on the north side. They both loved the maiden Loowit, and in their rivalry would throw fire and flame across the river at each other. At times, each brother crossed the Bridge of the Gods to fight the other for the love of this maiden. Their battle were so fierce that the earth shook and the bridge collapsed. The Great Spirit was angry at his sons for their foolishness and punished them by turning them into mountains. Wyeast became Mount Hood, and Pahto became Mountain Adams. Loowit, whose only crime seems to be that she was too desirable, was turned into Mount Saint Helens, which the Indians called Loowit Latkla, or the Fire Mountain.

The mountain experienced an eruption about four thousand years ago that was so great, portions of the Lewis River was buried under several feet of volcanic ash. The next great eruptions happened in the Middle Ages; after that, the mountain more or less slept for centuries.

Then, on March 20, 1980, an earthquake with a magnitude of 5.1 struck the mountain. A week later, on March 27, steam vented out of the crater. Fortunately for Portland and the Puget Sound, seasonal winds carried most of this away to the northwest, toward eastern Washington.

At 8:32 a.m. on May 18, another magnitude 5.1 earthquake struck about a mile below the center of the volcano, causing the north face of Mount Saint Helens to break off and turn into a landslide. It fell northward at between 70 and 150 mph, covering twenty-three square miles. It buried Spirit Lake and crossed over the next ridgeline.

When the mountaintop slid away, it released an initial blast of hot gas and ash of around seven megatons of energy, which is about five hundred times more powerful than the last over Hiroshima during World War II. In all, over one half cubic mile of material slide down the face of the mountain or was blown off, dropping its height from 9,677 feet to 8,363 feet. The blast wave had a temperature of about 660 degrees and traveled at least 300 mph, knocking down trees over an area of two hundred and thirty square miles. The ash cloud circled the globe for fifteen days.

The earthquake and blast were followed by a pyroclastic flow, a gaseous cloud of superheated gases and molten rock. This flow moved down the mountainside at 50 to 80 mph. It was much hotter than the rockslide, with a temperature of 1,300 degrees. It spread out and covered six square miles, leaving deposits of rock and ash up to thirty thick.

This was not the most powerful volcanic eruption in the twentieth century, but a total estimated damage of over $1 billion it was the most expensive. In addition to the trees killed, 27 bridges, 200 homes, 15 miles of railway line, and 185 miles of road were destroyed. Millions of fish and 7,000 large game animals, such as deer, elk, and bear, died.

At least fifty-seven people also died. The only that kept the human toll so slow was the fact that the eruption took place on a Sunday. If it had happened on a weekday, hundreds of timber workers might have been killed.

Since 1980, nature has recovered significantly in the land around Mount Saint Helens. Deer, elk, and plants have returned to many areas within the blast zone. However, the land north of the crater still resembles the face of the moon. The U.S. Forest Service built two observation stations at the base of the mountain, perhaps too soon-after a relatively quiet decade, the mountain became active again, especially in 2005 and 2006.

The Cone of Silence

One interesting aspect of a volcanic eruption is the sound wave created by the blast. People heard the 1980 blast of Mount Saint Helens in Portland, Oregon, over fifty miles away. Strangely, there were closer places where the blast was not heard. Weird Washington author Jeff Davis was in one of those places that day.

I was in the Army Reserves and had drill on May 18. We went out to Camp Bonneville, east of Vancouver, Washington. Camp Bonneville was in a direct line between Mountain Saint Helens and Portland. Some low hills and tall trees hid our view of the mountain. We arrived around 7:30 a.m., and left around 2:00 p.m. I was sitting in the back of an open truck, and as soon as we left the tree line, one of the other soldiers yelled and pointed to the mountain. We saw the column of ash, already 80,000 feet high. Even though the ash cloud was probably rolling and boiling around at high speed, it was so huge that it looked like it was moving in slow motion. But we never heard the last.

----

My Note: They're saying it might eruption again. Of course, they're been saying that for a while now.

Is Mt St Helens about to blow? America's most dangerous volcano is recharging - 43 years after catastrophic eruption that was the worst in US history

[brooklynislandgirl]

💚 I'd love your thoughts on Beth and her Prince in his tower

Imagine You and Me || Accepting

There but for the Grace of God... Isn't that how the saying goes? But maybe, just maybe, our Prince can find some grace in the maiden in the garden with her roots in the earth and most of the time, her head in the clouds. She has always believed in faery tales, and is it so impossible that she might see him through that lens? The silver in his hair and the careworn lines in his face do not seem to matter to her, nor the fact that his walls are sometimes too high to scale, and his kingdom lies under the pall of therapeutic medicines and trolls-posing-as--guards. Beth has no real understanding of the violent, impoverished youth and man, she only knows the quiet dreamer who is maybe out of touch with the world too. The one who makes her feel welcomed into the spaces of a puzzle, and who tells himself that he can't touch, can't hug, that there's always someone and something watching. Andy does his best to keep certain things from her and does his best to actually help Mr Kray. He isn't easy with any of this but he also is fascinated by the difference in sister and patient when they are allowed to spend {supervised} time together. This ship hurts my heart but also shines with a patina of hope. In a not so distant past, there might have been a chance for mercy and mending, of understanding far better than what we know to be true. Beth and Ron might not get a happily ever after, but I love seeing and writing and daydreaming with you how close they are in all the different lives that touch stones with one another. I think if there could be/could have been the chance, she would set him free from his tower, and take him by the hand to some quiet cottage that always seems to have a touch of autumn around it. There she would tell him stories through music old and new. Maybe coax him to dance with her close, arm around one another and hands held. To the open arms of the sea, yeah Lonely rivers sigh "Wait for me, wait for me" I can see Beth waiting. Even for another life.

[fistfuloflightning]

The cloud maiden and the river god.

It’s an old story, worn soft round the edges from generations’ worth of retellings. A cautionary tale for those daring to reach for greater things beyond their station. A story to teach young children not to be greedy. A warning.

Lan Sizhui hates what his parents’ story has become.

[quitealotofsodapop]

OK SO

Timeline:

The Jade Emperor and the Queen Mother of the West have been married a long time and the Pillar of Heaven has yet to fall. Early Humanity is popping up everywhere due to a mix of Nüwa's beloved clay figures and the proto-humans of the time.

Xiwangmu, despite her new place in the Heavens as Queen, still returns to earth to her favourite hot spring to relax. Soon she involves her daughters as she visits the springs more frequently during her pregnancies.

Zhinü is the seventh born of these daughters. She's so good at weaving that she can make vestments from the heavenly clouds that allow celestials to fly and travel between Realms without the need of portals, gaining her own renown.

Niulang himself is completely mortal hunter-gather, but has made some powerful friends due to his kindly nature. Notably the magpies he shelters and rewards for keeping away insects. And a certain Bull god in disguise...

This said Bull god is Shennong/The Divine Peasant/Farmer, recently in trouble with Heaven for siding with Nüwa's more radical ideas (the Jade Emperor and his sister had a tenuous relationship at best). Niulang had found what he thought was an injured bull and tended him back to health. Shennong decided to thank Niulang by "introducing him" (i.e. running off with his supplies towards the spring) to the most sought-after maidens in all the Realms.

One meet-cute (further stoked by the magpies stealing some of the princesses' clothing) leads to Zhinü and Niulang falling in love.

Zhinü, realising that neither of her parents would approve of her consorting with a mortal, pretends to lose her magical vestments. Giggling, she tells her sisters that she'll catch up to them in a bit. Later, she entrusts her clothing to Niulang, cheekily saying that she "can't go home now he has her clothes".

Cue a whirlwind romance that leads to the two crazy kids married. Zhinü adapts well to a mortal life, even if her husband's best friend is a denounced cattle god who keeps eating unidentified plants. XD

Zhinü's six elder sisters and dearest friend Chang'e (already banished to the lunar surface) have been covering for her disappearance in Heaven, aided by the Queen Mother's pregnancy-brain (she was carrying Iron Fan at the time whilst taking care of the three younger orchard maidens) often forgetting where her many daughters were at that moment. But the Jade Emperor and the Celestial Realm as a whole are getting suspicious.

Zhinü gives birth to twins, and wants her parents in their lives. Agreeing to use her magic vestments to visit the Celestial Realm to work something out, her and Niulang kiss each other goodbye. The magpies follow her until she rises too high for them to continue.

Jade Emperor and Queen Mother are NOT HAPPY. What do you mean you got married!? To a mortal no less! AND A HUMAN!?! The two royals are too enraged to let Zhinü speak and explain that she wants them to meet their grandchildren. But such talk only further enrages the Emperor (the Queen had softened a little, but was numb by that point).

Zhinü, crying and scared of her father's explosive reaction, tries to flee back to earth. Her mother chasing after her, unable to catch up due to her own pregnancy.

Niulang can tell something wrong is happening in Heaven by the reaction of the magpies, and asks Shennong for a way to get up there and see. Shennong sacrifices some of his skin to make Niulang an early version of cloud-walking boots, allowing the mortal man to slowly climb the heavens with his and Zhinü's twins strapped to his body.

As Niulang and Zhinü are about to meet in the middle, the Queen Mother in a desperate show of her primordial destruction - rips her claws through the sky.

This tear burst opens a new tributary of the Heavenly River. A near-literal river of starlight that not even immortals can safely cross. This new river now separating the Realms of Mortals and Celestials forever more.

Niulang and Zhinü are trapped on either side of the celestial river, unable to return to their respective Realms nor meet in the middle.

In a last attempt to reunite, the magpies who Niulang protected and reared try carrying the lovers across the river to meet.

It fails... the lovers and their two children fall into the chaotic rip of the cosmic river. No longer mortal or immortal, they become something else.

They become the stars later named Altair and Vega by mortals. Their newborn twins becoming the young stars Alshain and Tarazed on the with their father. The magpies become the star Deneb that bridges them.

The Gods weep for the loss of Princess Zhinü, and to the shock of her parents, for the mortal man she deemed more worthy than Heaven. And for the royal grandchildren that never knew their mother's origins.

The Queen Mother in her grief; declares that no daughter of hers may produce children without great suffering. Suffering as Zhinü had brought all of them. It was said in despair, but the curse was done. Her daughters were barred from seeking love less they succumb to the ultimate pains of motherhood. This would only prove to stoke more heartbreak; as her second born Yin Wuming, and later the very child in her belly Tieshan, would both fall for a mortal man and a demon prince respectively.

The princesses most disgusted by their parents' treatment of Zhinü and her mate were their two eldest daughters; Songzi and Yin Wuming.

Songzi, their eldest daughter, was fiery copy of her mother. After teh loss of Zhinü, she began to refuse the Heavenly Peaches and Wine. Soon they lost her to despair. She would be reborn shortly thereafter as one of Nüwa's most beloved creations, one of her first ever "Stone Monkeys" (and if we consider the Stone Matriarch au, that monkey was Shíhuā - Wukong's "boulder" mother). Later still, after over 30 more lives (including one as Princess Longji during the Investiture-era) would be born Miao Shan, the child who would become the Bodhisattva Guanyin.

Yin Wuming self-banished herself to Earth, finding love in a life where she was a demon hunter. Her mother's curse activated with her third child, a child which would have stayed a malignant tumour if not for the intervention of Taiyi Zhenren. Her third born son Nezha would be born inhuman in every way possible, inheriting the traits of both paternal grandparents

The tear in the sky also had a very unforeseen consequence... you can't just rip open space like that with having somethings weaken and break. One of the Heavenly Pillars crumble with no more than the maddened strikes of a angered water god - leaking the new branch of the Heavenly River onto earth in a Great Flood...

Nüwa wrapped herself around the broken Pillar long enough to divide the remains into five Stones. She trusted each piece to the guardians of the cardinal directions, and to her estranged brother. Her clay figures left on earth during the Flood became new beings, intermarrying with the previous generation of survivors. But she would cry for the loss of her dear creatures who did not make it - like her beloved Stone Monkeys...

And of course history repeats in a cycle.

hope this wasn't too rambling. i have thoughts about chinese mythos and jttw and how you can interweave the tales

Apparently its almost Qixi Festival time and I am trying not to jump headfirst into the Niulang and Zhinü/Cowherd and Weaver Girl lore, and how that lines up with my LMK au verse lore.

How by trying to tear a happy couple apart, the rulers of Heaven only fractured their family further, and can never interact with their 7th born daughter nor her children (whom they got to meet in person) ever again.

[libidomechanica]

Untitled Composition # 11620

Her belly falls, she on her back.     Dearer being a Titan’s breast an age to find wars, and     procession cannot rouse my heart to be in loue, or, one     dream of love, ’ quoth she, in

earth usurp’d his name, at once all     the woods with her off then! This said, Ruined. If questioning     worth; the streams and mild the lordly word, service and pay and     night doat upon the shore,

and when some exotic garden     when I was was the simple lives. Therefore doves will rob thee     of a kind of fear; things I oversway’d, leading to Jove     aloud. There was a child

there be a copy near the mould,     art so possest, drown’d beyond the burthen lay of all lie,     but for this wood was fully drop their jug was tedious     leagues of men darkening have

I used rivers, cloud of my breast     are sweetest Indian bliss! The world’s blame, with her in tune,     he marked her heavy mind hath its light impressed; she lies, that     tremble; so the sky; for

the centre of all love gift of     swimmers on a day of past regret—no major tension     in the fighting each, to that fair bosom it shall not bliss;     fie pleasant fruits, and so:

ceiling drift, as is a handmaid     we were slain I see down to find, and haunt the fruit nods from     thy slaue, and trip when I saw flower those cursed God—His     arrogance, His gall—to still

expect our dreamed nothing me, and     all the glass. On flying hair, dappled with little town by     river side?—So sure I? Upon a bough nimbly she were     nothing to Jove aloud.

What maiden-like and takes him by     the happier starlight hints. No ass so obstinacy,     pride, and quench in my arm that flow’r to decay; ruin hath     treble; and if thou wilt;

for I, being moving, the moon.     She will not bear the way; each envious briar’d path to spring.     Oaths but to myself, and spread upon the wide streams are     not grieves trifles no stone.

Leave it room they most his proper     home of every one, unjust and mouthed erased. Sheathe. No more:     nor barn nor house where no people were lamps, burnt round     It is no treachery!

[roman-catholic-mass-readings]

12th August >> Mass Readings (USA)

Monday, Nineteenth Week in Ordinary Time 

or

Saint Jane Frances de Chantal, Religious.

Monday, Nineteenth Week in Ordinary Time 

(Liturgical Colour: Green. Year: B(II))

First Reading Ezekiel 1:2-5, 24-28c Such was the vision of the likeness of the glory of the Lord.

On the fifth day of the fourth month of the fifth year, that is, of King Jehoiachin’s exile, The word of the LORD came to the priest Ezekiel, the son of Buzi, in the land of the Chaldeans by the river Chebar.— There the hand of the LORD came upon me. As I looked, a stormwind came from the North, a huge cloud with flashing fire enveloped in brightness, from the midst of which (the midst of the fire) something gleamed like electrum. Within it were figures resembling four living creatures that looked like this: their form was human. Then I heard the sound of their wings, like the roaring of mighty waters, like the voice of the Almighty. When they moved, the sound of the tumult was like the din of an army. And when they stood still, they lowered their wings. Above the firmament over their heads something like a throne could be seen, looking like sapphire. Upon it was seated, up above, one who had the appearance of a man. Upward from what resembled his waist I saw what gleamed like electrum; downward from what resembled his waist I saw what looked like fire; he was surrounded with splendor. Like the bow which appears in the clouds on a rainy day was the splendor that surrounded him. Such was the vision of the likeness of the glory of the LORD.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm Psalm 148:1-2, 11-12, 13, 14

R/ Heaven and earth are filled with your glory. or R/ Alleluia.

Praise the LORD from the heavens; praise him in the heights; Praise him, all you his angels; praise him, all you his hosts.

R/ Heaven and earth are filled with your glory. or R/ Alleluia.

Let the kings of the earth and all peoples, the princes and all the judges of the earth, Young men too, and maidens, old men and boys,

R/ Heaven and earth are filled with your glory. or R/ Alleluia.

Praise the name of the LORD, for his name alone is exalted; His majesty is above earth and heaven.

R/ Heaven and earth are filled with your glory. or R/ Alleluia.

And he has lifted up the horn of his people. Be this his praise from all his faithful ones, from the children of Israel, the people close to him. Alleluia.

R/ Heaven and earth are filled with your glory. or R/ Alleluia.

Gospel Acclamation cf. 2 Thessalonians 2:14

Alleluia, alleluia. God has called you through the Gospel to possess the glory of our Lord Jesus Christ. Alleluia, alleluia.

Gospel Matthew 17:22-27 They will kill him and he will be raised. The subjects are exempt from the tax.

As Jesus and his disciples were gathering in Galilee, Jesus said to them, “The Son of Man is to be handed over to men, and they will kill him, and he will be raised on the third day.” And they were overwhelmed with grief. When they came to Capernaum, the collectors of the temple tax approached Peter and said, “Does not your teacher pay the temple tax?” “Yes,” he said. When he came into the house, before he had time to speak, Jesus asked him, “What is your opinion, Simon? From whom do the kings of the earth take tolls or census tax? From their subjects or from foreigners?” When he said, “From foreigners,” Jesus said to him, “Then the subjects are exempt. But that we may not offend them, go to the sea, drop in a hook, and take the first fish that comes up. Open its mouth and you will find a coin worth twice the temple tax. Give that to them for me and for you.”

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

----------------------------

Saint Jane Frances de Chantal, Religious 

(Liturgical Colour: White. Year: B(II))

(Readings for the memorial)

(There is a choice today between the readings for the ferial day (Monday) and those for the memorial. The ferial readings are recommended unless pastoral reasons suggest otherwise)

First Reading Proverbs 31:10-13, 19-20, 30-31 The woman who fears the Lord will be praised.

When one finds a worthy wife, her value is far beyond pearls. Her husband, entrusting his heart to her, has an unfailing prize. She brings him good, and not evil, all the days of her life. She obtains wool and flax and makes cloth with skillful hands. She puts her hands to the distaff, and her fingers ply the spindle. She reaches out her hands to the poor, and extends her arms to the needy. Charm is deceptive and beauty fleeting; the woman who fears the LORD is to be praised. Give her a reward of her labors, and let her works praise her at the city gates.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm Psalm 131:1bcde, 2, 3

R/ In you, Lord, I have found my peace.

O LORD, my heart is not proud, nor are my eyes haughty; I busy not myself with great things, nor with things too sublime for me.

R/ In you, Lord, I have found my peace.

Nay rather, I have stilled and quieted my soul like a weaned child. Like a weaned child on its mother’s lap, so is my soul within me.

R/ In you, Lord, I have found my peace.

O Israel, hope in the LORD, both now and forever.

R/ In you, Lord, I have found my peace.

Gospel Acclamation John 8:31b-32

Alleluia, alleluia. If you remain in my word, you will truly be my disciples, and you will know the truth, says the Lord. Alleluia, alleluia.

Gospel Mark 3:31-35 Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother.

The mother of Jesus and his brothers arrived. Standing outside they sent word to him and called him. A crowd seated around him told him, “Your mother and your brothers and your sisters are outside asking for you.” But he said to them in reply, “Who are my mother and my brothers?” And looking around at those seated in the circle he said, “Here are my mother and my brothers. For whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother.”

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

[lostwcnderlands]

rumors swirled in the pits of hell's fire, they spoke of a maiden oh-so-fair, with midnight raven hair.

hades had been all but haunted within his own halls - for the springtime blossom withered with every turn of the century, and as did the cobwebs upon his hardening, darkening heart grow more wild && untamed. for the god of death himself fancied a grave, one to grow ripe with roses that wouldn't all turn to dust when he exhaled. he did not dare step foot upon the mountain, living up to the stories of the powerful recluse that hid behind walls of brimstone, rotting on his throne of bone.

this had become his eternity. for hell had lost it's queen, and hades had lost his conquest. no fire would still, no broiling pit of lava would cease it's frothing, until the god was set free. but the chains were of his own making, irons of misery && shackles he'd willing locked to his own two wrists. it didn't matter what the mortal world held, nor how it changed, lives progressing && ever-changing. they would all find their way to him in the end. lost, defeated, and oh-so-very dead. they always were, and it was always a bore.

and yet, the crows whispered of a different face. one familiar, one full of springtime grace. so hades had allowed a flicker of hope to be set ablaze, and he boarded the river to do what some thought he never may. he donned a disguise, one that of but a man - his flames subsided, his powers placed in a locket, and aside from one single crow that perched upon the god's shoulder as a protector, hades was... truly, simply, just a man.

he moved with purpose, bare feet connecting to the earth like he'd been born of the dirt && grass instead of stars && blood. like he, too, could find a false sense of happiness in the mundane. but nature itself leaned away, smelling his death, from where he came. clouds hurried to the sun's protection, darkening his path as the crow whispered direction upon it's masters ear. a simple cottage, just there - cresting the hill, through the trees, there, a splatter of normalcy on the horizon. he'd found it, he'd found her, at long last.

" ....lost? " hades echoed, concern etched across his brow, feeling a tremble within his chest. of all the things he could be, that couldn't be the furthest from the truth. not now, that hell's stolen queen stood before him, even if it was her, after all, that had wandered too far. so far, she'd forgotten her home - her glory, her heavenly nature, the kiss from the god's that gave her such beauty, that had brought even hellfire to tamed submission in the bed of her garden.

persephone may be far from home, but hades assured himself - she was no longer lost. now, she had been found. he was not going to let her fade, not this time - not ever again. lips pushed into a ghostly sort of smile. " in a way - yes, i suppose i am. a stranger in a new land, but somehow, i feel as if i'm meant to be here, all the same. would you be so kind as to tell me... where is it, exactly, i've found myself to be? "

open to gods/demi-creatures/fantasy beings. any gender. scenario: penny is the goddess of spring sealed in a mortal body, with no memories of who she used to be.

Penny had always found peace in the quiet corner of the world she had carved out for herself, where the earthy scent of fresh soil mingled with the delicate sweetness of her wildflowers. Her garden—untamed at times, but still hers—was a sanctuary. It was where she could breathe, where she could think, where she truly felt at home. It was everything she had, besides the small cottage tucked away at the edge of the meadow.

Her life was simple, even mundane at times—one where days bled into the next. She’d spend her mornings tending to her flowers, selling them when the market allowed, and then retreating back to her little haven, where everything was familiar and safe.

But today… today was different.

The air felt heavier than usual, thick with the scent of damp grass and the sweet fragrance of lavender in bloom. The sky stretched above her—too vast, perhaps, or maybe too close? It felt as though it was pressing down on her, wrapping around her. Penny furrowed her brow, a strange unease rising in her chest. Her heartbeat quickened, and she couldn’t quite place the reason why. Maybe it was the way the wind seemed to swirl around her, curling like a whisper too soft to understand. Or maybe it was the unnerving stillness in the air—no chirping birds, no rustling leaves, just an eerie silence that pressed against her ears.

The earth beneath her feet felt oddly solid, as though it was holding its breath too.

Then, through the trees, she saw... well, whoever that was. A person that seemed to bring som thrilling feelings right up her spine and fill her chest with something exciting. Something that she should know.

Penny hesitated for a moment, unsure of what she was seeing, before lifting her hand in a tentative wave. Curiosity and kindness were second nature to her, often leading the way in any introduction, even when the situation was more unsettling than usual.

"Hello, dear! You lost?" she called out.