#whose steadfast faith yet never moved | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

usagiumiko3 · 3 months ago

Text

hey guys🌌💕 i’ve been diving into emily brontë’s "the night is darkening round me" and while reading I made some connections between some poems and the lnds characters. here are some of my picks that I think resonate the best.

☆ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂✦ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

» the prisoner «

in the dungeon-crypts, idly did i stray,

reckless of the lives wasting there away;

'draw the ponderous bars! open, warder stern!'

he dared not say me nay - the hingers harshly turn.

'our guests are darkly lodged,' i whisper'd, gazing through

the vault, whose grated eye showed heaven more grey than blue;

(this was when glad spring laughed in awaking pride;)

'aye, darkly lodged enough!' returned my sullen guide.

then, god forgive my youth; forgive my careless tongue;

i scoffed, as chill chains on the damp flag-stones rung:

'confined in triple walls, art thou so much to fear,

that we must bind thee down and clench thy fetters here?'

the captive raised her face, it was as soft and mild

as sculptured marble saint, or slumbering unwean'd child;

it was so soft and mild, it was so sweet and fair,

pain could not trace a line, nor grief a shadow there!

the captive raised her hand and pressed it to her brow;

'i have been struck,' she said, 'and i am suffering now;

yet these are little worth, your bolts and irons strong,

and, were they forged in steel, they could not hold me long.'

hoarse laughed the jailer grim: 'shall i be won to hear;

dost think, fond, dreaming wretch, that i shall grant thy prayer?

or, better still, wilt melt my master's heart with groans?

ah! sooner might the sun thaw down these granite stones.

'my master's voice is low, his aspect bland and kind,

but hard as hardest flint, the soul that lurks behind;

and i am rough and rude, yet not more rough to see

than is the hidden ghost that has its home in me.'

about her lips there played a smile of almost scorn,

'my friend,' she gently said, 'you have not heard me mourn;

when you my kindred's lives, my lost life, can restore,

then may i weep and sue, - but never, friend, before!

(.....)

'oh, dreadful is the check - intense the agony -

when the ear begins to hear, and the eye begins to see;

when the pulse begins to throb, the brain to think again,

the soul to feel the flesh, and the flesh to feel the chain.

'yet i would lose no sting, would wish no torture less,

the more that anguish racks, the earlier it will bless;

and robed in fires of hell, or bright with heavenly shine,

if it but herald death, the vision is divine!'

she ceased to speak, and we, unanswering, turned to go -

we had no further power to work the captive woe:

her cheek, her gleaming eye, declared that man had given

a sentence, unapproved, and overruled by heaven.

» ‘no coward soul is mine’ «

no coward soul is mine

no trembler in the world's storm-troubled sphere

i see heaven's glories shine

and faith shines equal arming me from fear

o god within my breast

almighty ever-present deity

life, that in me hast rest

as i undying life, have power in thee

vain are the thousand creeds

that move men's hearts, unutterably vain,

worthless as withered weeds

or idlest froth amid the boundless main

to waken doubt in one

holding so fast by thy infinity

so surely anchored on

the steadfast rock of immortality

with wide-embracing love

thy spirit animates eternal years

pervades and broods above,

changes, sustains, dissolves, creates and rears

though earth and moon were gone

and suns and universes ceased to be

and thou wert left alone

every existence would exist in thee

there is not room for death

nor atom that his might could render void

since thou art being and breath

and what thou art may never be destroyed

☆ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂✦ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

» remembrance «

cold in the earth - and the deep snow piled above thee,

far, far, removed, cold in the dreary grave!

have i forgot, my only love, to love thee,

severed at last by time's all-severing wave?

now, when alone, do my thoughts no longer hover

over the mountains, on that northern shore,

resting their wings where heath and fern-leaves cover

thy noble heart for ever, ever more?

cold in the earth - and fifteen wild decembers,

from those brown hills, have melted into spring:

faithful, indeed, is the spirit that remembers

after such years of change and suffering!

sweet love of youth, forgive, if i forget thee,

while the world's tide is bearing me along;

other desires and other hopes beset me,

hopes which obscure, but cannot do thee wrong!

no later light has lightened up my heaven,

no second morn has ever shone for me;

all my life's bliss from thy dear life was given,

all my life's bliss is in the grave with thee.

but, when the days of golden dreams had perished,

and even despair was powerless to destroy;

then did i learn how existence could be cherished,

strengthened, and fed without the aid of joy.

then did i check the tears of useless passion -

weaned my young soul from yearning after thine;

sternly denied its burning wish to hasten

down to that tomb already more than mine.

and, even yet, i dare not let it languish,

dare not indulge in memory's rapturous pain;

once drinking deep of that divinest anguish,

how could i seek the empty world again?

☆ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂✦ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

» stars «

ah! why, because the dazzling sun

restored our earth to joy,

have you departed, every one,

and left a desert sky?

all through the night, your glorious eyes

were gazing down in mine,

and with a full heart's thankful sighs,

i blessed that watch divine.

i was at peace, and drank your beams

as they were life to me;

and revelled in my changeful dreams,

like petrel on the sea.

thought followed thought, star followed star,

through boundless regions, on;

while one sweet influence, near and far,

thrilled through, and proved us one!

why did the morning dawn to break

so great, so pure, a spell;

and scorch with fire, the tranquil cheek,

where your cool radiance fell?

blood-red, he rose, and, arrow-straight,

his fierce beams struck my brow;

the soul of nature, sprang, elate,

but mine sank sad and low!

my lids closed down, yet through their veil,

i saw him, blazing, still,

and steep in gold the misty dale,

and flash upon the hill.

i turned me to the pillow, then,

to call back night, and see

your worlds of solemn light, again,

throb with my heart, and me!

it would not do - the pillow glowed,

and glowed both roof and floor;

and birds sang loudly in the wood,

and fresh winds shook the door;

the curtains waved, the wakened flies

were murmuring round my room,

imprisoned there, till i should rise,

and give them leave to roam.

oh, stars, and dreams, and gentle night;

oh, night and stars return!

and hide me from the hostile light,

that does not warm, but burn;

that drains the blood of suffering men;

drinks tears, instead of dew;

let me sleep through his blinding reign,

and only wake with you!

☆ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂✦ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

» anticipation «

how beautiful the earth is still,

to thee - how full of happiness!

how little fraught with real ill,

or unreal phantoms of distress!

how spring can bring thee glory, yet,

and summer win thee to forget

december's sullen time!

why dost thou hold the treasure fast,

of youth's delight, when youth is past,

and thou art near thy prime?

when those who were thy own compeers,

equals in fortune and in years,

have seen their morning melt in tears,

to clouded, smileless day;

blest, had they died untried and young,

before their hearts went wandering wrong,

poor slaves, subdued by passions strong,

a weak and helpless prey!

‘because, i hoped while they enjoyed,

and, by fulfilment, hope destroyed;

as children hope, with trustful breast,

i waited bliss - and cherished rest.

a thoughtful spirit taught me, soon,

that we must long till life be done;

that every phase of earthly joy

must always fade, and always cloy:

‘this i foresaw - and would not chase

the fleeting treacheries;

but, with firm foot and tranquil face,

held backward from that tempting race,

gazed o'er the sands the waves efface,

to the enduring seas -

there cast my anchor of desire

deep in unknown eternity;

nor ever let my spirit tire,

with looking for what is to be!

'it is hope's spell that glorifies,

like youth, to my maturer eyes,

all nature's million mysteries,

the fearful and the fair -

hope soothes me in the griefs i know;

she lulls my pain for others' woe,

and makes me strong to undergo

what i am born to bear.

'glad comforter! will i not brave,

unawed, the darkness of the grave?

nay, smile to hear death's billows rave -

sustained, my guide, by thee?

the more unjust seems present fate,

the more my spirit swells elate,

strong, in thy strength, to anticipate

rewarding destiny!'

» self-interrogation «

(….)

‘time stands before the door of death,

upbraiding bitterly;

and conscience, with exhaustless breath,

pours black reproach on me:

‘and though i've said that conscience lies,

and time should fate condemn;

still, sad repentance clouds my eyes,

and makes me yield to them!'

‘then art thou glad to seek repose?

art glad to leave the sea,

and anchor all thy weary woes

in calm eternity?

'nothing regrets to see thee go -

not one voice sobs "farewell",

and where thy heart has suffered so,

canst thou desire to dwell?'

‘alas! the countless links are strong

that bind us to our clay;

the loving spirit lingers long,

and would not pass away!

☆ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂✦ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

» ‘the night is darkening round me’ «

the night is darkening round me

the wild winds coldly blow

but a tyrant spell has bound me

and i cannot cannot go

the giant trees are bending

their bare boughs weighed with snow and

the storm is fast descending

and yet i cannot go

clouds beyond clouds above me

wastes beyond wastes below

but nothing drear can move me

i will not cannot go

- - -

i'll come when thou art saddest

laid alone in the darkened room

when the mad day's mirth has vanished

and the smile of joy is banished

from evening's chilly gloom

i'll come when the heart's [real feeling

has entire unbiased sway

and my influence o'er thee stealing

grief deepening joy congealing

shall bear thy soul away

listen 'tis just the hour

the awful time for thee

dost thou not feel upon thy soul

a flood of strange sensations roll

forerunners of a sterner power

heralds of me

- - -

i would have touched the heavenly key

that spoke alike of bliss and thee

i would have woke the entrancing song

but its words died upon my tongue

and then i knew that hallowed strain

could never speak of joy again

and then i felt

☆ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂✦ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

» death «

death! that struck when i was most confiding

in my certain faith of joy to be -

strike again, time's withered branch dividing

from the fresh root of eternity!

leaves, upon time's branch, were growing brightly,

full of sap, and full of silver dew;

birds beneath its shelter gathered nightly;

daily round its flowers the wild bees flew.

sorrow passed, and plucked the golden blossom;

guilt stripped off the foliage in its pride;

but, within its parent's kindly bosom,

flowed for ever life's restoring tide.

little mourned i for the parted gladness,

for the vacant nest and silent song -

hope was there, and laughed me out of sadness;

whispering, 'winter will not linger long!'

and, behold! with tenfold increase blessing,

spring adorned the beauty-burdened spray;

wind and rain and fervent heat, caressing,

lavished glory on that second may!

high it rose - no winged grief could sweep it;

sin was scared to distance with its shine;

love, and its own life, had power to keep it

from all wrong - from every blight but thine!

cruel death! the young leaves droop and languish;

evening's gentle air may still restore -

no! the morning sunshine mocks my anguish -

time, for me, must never blossom more!

strike it down, that other boughs may flourish

where that perished sapling used to be;

thus, at least, its mouldering corpse will nourish

that from which it sprung - eternity.

☆ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂✦ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

» faith and despondency «

‘the winter wind is loud and wild,

come close to me, my darling child;

forsake thy books, and mateless play;

and, while the night is gathering grey,

we'll talk its pensive hours away; -

‘iernë, round our sheltered hall

november's gusts unheeded call;

not one faint breath can enter here

enough to wave my daughter's hair,

and i am glad to watch the blaze

glance from her eyes, with mimic rays;

to feel her cheek so softly pressed,

in happy quiet on my breast.

‘but, yet, even this tranquillity

brings bitter, restless thoughts to me;

and, in the red fire's cheerful glow,

i think of deep glens, blocked with snow;

i dream of moor, and misty hill,

where evening closes dark and chill;

for, lone, among the mountains cold,

lie those that i have loved of old.

and my heart aches, in hopeless pain

exhausted with repinings vain,

that i shall greet them ne'er again!'

» honour's martyr «

the moon is full this winter night;

the stars are clear, though few;

and every window glistens bright,

with leaves of frozen dew.

the sweet moon through your lattice gleams

and lights your room like day;

and there you pass, in happy dreams,

the peaceful hours away!

while i, with effort hardly quelling

the anguish in my breast,

wander about the silent dwelling,

and cannot think of rest.

the old clock in the gloomy hall

ticks on, from hour to hour;

and every time its measured call

seems lingering slow and slower:

and oh, how slow that keen-eyed star

has tracked the chilly grey!

what, watching yet! how very far

the morning lies away!

without your chamber door i stand;

love, are you slumbering still?

my cold heart, underneath my hand,

has almost ceased to thrill.

bleak, bleak the east wind sobs and sighs,

and drowns the turret bell,

whose sad note, undistinguished, dies

unheard, like my farewell!

tomorrow, scorn will blight my name,

and hate will trample me,

will load me with a coward's shame -

a traitor's perjury.

☆ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂✦ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

» the old stoic «

riches i hold in light esteem;

and love i laugh to scorn;

and lust of fame was but a dream

that vanished with the morn:

and if i pray, the only prayer

that moves my lips for me

is, 'leave the heart that now i bear,

and give me liberty!'

yes, as my swift days near their goal,

‘tis all that i implore;

in life and death, a chainless soul,

with courage to endure.

» self-interrogation «

(….)

‘and rest is sweet, when laurelled fame

will crown the soldier's crest;

but, a brave heart, with a tarnished name,

would rather fight than rest.'

'well, thou hast fought for many a year,

hast fought thy whole life through,

hast humbled falsehood, trampled fear;

what is there left to do?'

‘tis true, this arm has hotly striven,

has dared what few would dare;

much have i done, and freely given,

but little learnt to bear!’

22 notes · View notes

steveezekiel · 1 year ago

Text

TEST

24 And the people complained against Moses, saying, “What shall we drink?”

25 So he cried out to the Lord, and the Lord showed him a tree. When he cast it into the waters, the waters were made sweet. There He made a statute and an ordinance for them, AND THERE HE TESTED THEM,

26 and said, “If you diligently heed the voice of the Lord your God and do what is right in His sight, give ear to His commandments and keep all His statutes, I will put none of the diseases on you which I have brought on the Egyptians. For I am the Lord who heals you.”

Exodus 15:24-26 (NKJV)

"Then the Lord said to Moses, “Behold, I will rain bread from heaven for you. And the people shall go out and gather a certain quota every day, THAT I MAY TEST THEM, WHETHER THEY WILL WALK IN MY LAW OR NOT."

Exodus 16:4 (NKJV)

• God has the habit of testing whoever wants to walk with Him intimately:

"NOW IT CAME TO PASS AFTER THESE THINGS THAT GOD TESTED ABRAHAM, and said to him, “Abraham!” And he said, “Here I am” (Genesis 22:1 NKJV).

- Most of the things God did allow the Israelites to pass through or experience in their journey to the land of Canaan, were tests which He expected them to pass (Deuteronomy 8:2,16).

- Unfortunately, they failed those tests and were robbed of their ultimate blessing—getting to the the land they were promised:

21 But as surely as I live and my power has no limit, 22-23 I SWEAR THAT NOT ONE OF THESE ISRAELITES WILL ENTER THE LAND I PROMISED TO GIVE THEIR ANCESTORS. These people have seen my power in Egypt and in the desert, but they will never see Canaan. They have disobeyed and tested me too many times" (Numbers 14:21-23 Contemporary English Version).

- Similarly, in your Christian journey as a believer in Christ Jesus, God would allow you to be tested as regarding whatever He wants to do in your life.

- God would want to test your character, obedience, reliability, faith, and faithfulness!

• God tests before He promotes whoever He wanted to. Each promotion is preceded by a test or a couple of Such.

- The speed with which you rise or move in your Christian journey and the blessings of God you receive, are determined by how often you pass God's tests that may be brought your way.

- The Israelites journey was slowdown and ultimately could not be brought to the completion.

- The main or original people who were purposefully taken out of Egypt to get to Canaan land were unable, but their children. This happened because they could not pass the tests brought their ways (Numbers 14:22,23; Hebrews 3:16-19).

- And they could not pass the tests because of unbelief, hardened heart, disobedience, and rebellion:

12 Beware, brethren, lest there be in any of you an evil heart of UNBELIEF in departing from the living God; 13 but exhort one another daily, while it is called “Today,” lest any of you be HARDENED through the deceitfulness of sin. 14 For we have become partakers of Christ if we hold the beginning of our confidence steadfast to the end, 15 while it is said: “Today, if you will hear His voice, Do not HARDEN your hearts as in the REBELLION.”

16 For who, having heard, REBELLED? Indeed, was it not all who came out of Egypt, led by Moses? 17 Now with whom was He angry forty years? Was it not with those who sinned, whose corpses fell in the wilderness? 18 And to whom did He swear that they would not enter His rest, but to those who did not OBEY? 19 SO WE SEE THAT THEY COULD NOT ENTER IN BECAUSE OF UNBELIEF" (Hebrews 3:12-19 NKJV).

• God said they had denied Him ten times:

"none of the men who have seen my glory and my signs which I wrought in Egypt and in the wilderness, AND YET HAVE PUT ME TO THE PROOF THESE TEN TIMES AND HAVE NOT HEARKENED TO MY VOICE" (Numbers 14:22 Revised Standard Version)

- You will do well to cooperate with God in whatever test brought your way by Him, and endeavour or strive to pass it.

- That sum of money you have just gotten, big or small, could be a test!

- God may ask you to give part of it or the whole of it, for a particular purpose in His Kingdom; to His work, His minister, or someone in need.

- Your obedience, the promptness of it, determines your lifting or promotion. It also determines the depth of your relationship and fellowship with God, and the covenant He establishes with you.

• Any number of believers miss it always in the place of passing God's tests.

- Some things which many believers lay the blame on the devil, are caused by their insensitivity and their inability cooperate with the Holy Spirit on the inside of them to pass God's tests—which could lead to their blessings, promotion, and greatness.

- Unbelief, disobedience, hardness of hearts, and rebellion would hinder your growth and your blessings in the Kingdom (Hebrews 3:18,19).

- Amazingly, some believers do not even believe that God does test His children, in their walk with Him. These tests are shared on the pages of the Scriptures (Exodus 15:24; 16:4; Deuteronomy 8:2,3; 13:3; Judges 2:22; 3:1,4).

- How God tested His people to proof their hearts, to know whether they would be loyal to Him or not.

- He uses various things like hunger, basic needs of life, obedience to certain instructions and commands; to test them:

2 And you shall remember that the LORD your God led you all the way these forty years in the wilderness, TO HUMBLE YOU AND TEST YOU, TO KNOW WHAT WAS IN YOUR HEART, WHETHER YOU WOULD KEEP HIS COMMANDMENTS OR NOT. 3 So He humbled you, ALLOWED YOU TO HUNGER, and fed you with manna which you did not know nor did your fathers know, THAT HE MIGHT MAKE YOU KNOW THAT MAN SHALL NOT LIVE BY BREAD ALONE; BUT MAN LIVES BY EVERY WORD THAT PROCEEDS FROM THE MOUTH OF THE LORD" (Deuteronomy 8:2,3 NKJV).

- He also uses opposition, those who rose as enemies, to test them:

21 I also will no longer drive out before them any of the nations which Joshua left when he died, 22 SO THAT THROUGH THEM I MAY TEST ISRAEL, WHETHER THEY WILL KEEP THE WAYS OF THE LORD, to walk in them as their fathers kept them, or not." 23 Therefore the Lord left those nations, without driving them out immediately; nor did He deliver them into the hand of Joshua" (Judges 2:21,23 NKJV).

• What would you become in Him If you are lifted to a higher honour—a place of blessing and greatness?

- Would you not renounce God? Would you still be faithful in what you are assigned to do?

- And If you were in need, Would you still SERVE God faithfully and be obedient to the instructions given you by Him?

- God rewards faithfulness in whatever state or level you may find yourself—either in riches or lacks.

• You will not fail in Jesus' name.

Peace!

4 notes · View notes

finishinglinepress · 2 months ago

Text

FLP BOOK OF THE DAY: Polina & the Pomegranate by Kathryn Kimball

On SALE: https://www.finishinglinepress.com/product/polina-the-pomegranate-by-kathryn-kimball/

Kathryn Kimball grew up in Alabama, has a Ph.D. in English, taught nineteenth-century British literature, and lives in New York City. Her published work includes poems and French translations in various journals and a 2021 chapbook. She won the Columbia Journal 2023 translation prize.

PRAISE FOR Polina & the Pomegranate by Kathryn Kimball

Myth has it that Persephone had to go back to hell each year because she ate its seeds. Rich in the succulent and dark, Polina & the Pomegranate is sensuous, precise, grievous, textured, joyous. These poems of discovery and desire yield by mid-volume to explorations of deeper understanding, such as the poem about the simple miracle of waking to a new day after yet another night in which “we have not reeled off / into the void.” The poems at volume end ponder the quality of death. “Dead, whatever it means,” muses one, “has never meant / love is no more.” The volume’s exquisite final figure is of the “orchestrator of my life,” who will “close my eyes . . . when I’ve seen my last / of you, my love.” The strength of this volume lies in its steady faith in the goodness of life and death. “If seduction is all we have of knowable splendor,” concludes one poem, “then here I am, World.” Indeed, world, here is an all-embracing poet, Kathryn Kimball.

–Robert Ready, author of Eck: A Romance (2021); former dean of the Caspersen School of Graduate Studies, Drew University.

Kimball’s poems crack open spaces where secrets reside but refuse to fully reveal themselves, and their hermetic magic is the gift of this collection. Moving back and forward in time—whether inside plague year 1348, or a contemporary surgical theater lighting a galaxy within the fimbriae of a woman’s womb—Kimball provides elemental guidance. She seems to know how time itself tastes and smells: her pine, salt, honey, waterways, and wind-funnels hold lyric heat steadfast as Pastan’s. Among Kimball’s anchor portraits are a lover whose hair was “spider silk,” and a city vibrating with thousands of winter radiators, steaming and tuned to the so-called 432 Hz “miracle tone.” This book offers many after-effects: I’ve carried a single poem, then another and another, like the man who tells of the earthquake “which entered his body/and has never left it.”

–Judith Vollmer. Vollmer’s sixth, and most recent book of poetry, is THE SOUND BOAT: New and Selected Poems (University of Wisconsin Press 2022)

Please share/please repost #flpauthor #preorder #AwesomeCoverArt #poetrybook #read #poems # Persephone #history #life #Pomegranate #world

#poetry #flp authors #preorder #flp #poets on tumblr #american poets #finishing line press #small press

1 note · View note

vian-k · 2 years ago

Text

You are ruthless

All of my labour has been fruitless

I gave you my all

As you watched me fall

Which tyranny can ne'er enthral;

Far Away where the soft winds blow,

Far away from it all,

There is a place you go

Where teardrops fall.

And I've been shoved

I've been everything but loved

But of all lovely things, she loved

A cloudless moon, on summer night;

Full oft have I impatience

The which so long hath thee so loved,

Whose steadfast faith yet never moved; proved

To see how long, her still delight.

Remember him, whom Passion's power

Severely---deeply---vainly proved:

Remember thou that dangerous hour,

When neither fell, though both were loved.

A restless and an eager wraith,

How can I tell what she will do --

Oh, I am sure of my body's faith,

But what if my soul broke faith with you?

There is hope, and after that, there is only faith

Love like a wraith

We rise from the wraith

We are eternal

You are my blood legion

My faith

I'll be kind, if you'll be faithful

You be sweet and I'll be grateful

Tell me what does it mean to be faithful

Is a heart only made for beats

Just another word for painful

What does it mean to be faithful?

0 notes

poemoftheday · 3 years ago

Text

Poem of the Day 16 March 2022

Forget not yet BY THOMAS WYATT

FORGET not yet the tried intent Of such a truth as I have meant; My great travail so gladly spent, Forget not yet!

Forget not yet when first began The weary life ye know, since whan The suit, the service, none tell can; Forget not yet!

Forget not yet the great assays, The cruel wrong, the scornful ways, The painful patience in delays, Forget not yet!

Forget not! O, forget not this!— How long ago hath been, and is, The mind that never meant amiss— Forget not yet!

Forget not then thine own approved, The which so long hath thee so loved, Whose steadfast faith yet never moved: Forget not this!

#poem of the day #poetry #poem #thomas wyatt

4 notes · View notes

manamrazinaqvi · 4 years ago

Text

Martydom of Imam Ja’far Al-Sadiq [a.s]

شہادت ِ مولا امام جعفرِصادق علیہ السلام

ﺍﻟﻠﻬــــﻢ ﺍﻟﻌــــﻦ ﻗﺘــﻠـﺔ ﺍﻻﻣـــﺎﻡ ﺟﻌﻔــﺮﺍﻟﺼـــﺎﺩﻕ ﻋﻠﯿــــﮧ ﺍﻟﺴـــﻼﻡ

Last Words of Imam [a.s]

The famous companion, Abu Basir went to the house of the Imam [a.s] to offer his condolences to the family. While there, Abu Basir was told that as the Imam [a.s] was about to leave this world, he ordered all of his family to come near him.

Although going in and out of consciousness, at one point, the Imam [a.s] looked towards the family and said: “Surely our intercession shall never reach to those people who take their Salaat lightly.”

The Imam [a.s] was not concerned about those who did not pray, as they are in a completely different category. However his words were directed to his “Shia” who do not give importance to their prayers and he was very emphatic in his final words that he and the rest of the Ahlul Bayt [a.s] would have no ability to intercede for those who claim to be their followers, but give no attention or importance to the prayers.

Service to the Poor in the Darkness of Night

Mu’alla, who was a servant of Imam Sadiq [a.s], narrates the following event:

“One rainy night, as Imam Sadiq [a.s] left his house, I calmly followed him. Suddenly, something fell out of his hands onto the ground.

I approached him and greeted him. He asked:” Is it you Mu’alla?” “Yes” I replied, “O son of the messenger of Allah [S.A.W.W.]”.

He then said: “Touch the ground and hand me what you find.” I stretched my hand toward the ground and found a piece of bread.

I took it and returned it back to him. It was then that I realized Imam Sadiq [a.s] was carrying a sack full of bread, some of which had fallen to the ground.

I said: “My Master! Let me carry the sack.” He refused saying: “No! I am worthier for carrying it. Yet, follow me!”

I followed him until we reached the shelter of Bani Sa’idah.

The Shelter of Bani Sa’idah was an area where people gathered to shelter themselves from the extreme daytime heat; and where the poor and needy would sleep there during the night.

There, I realized that Imam Sadiq [a.s] had left his house in the dark night in order to help the poor.

Imam Sadiq [a.s] took loaves of bread out from the sack and placed one or two beside each person, making sure that no one was left out.

His Timeless Treasure

The person moving to help his Momin brothers is like the person who is walking between Safa and Marwa.

He who treats people kindly will be accepted as arbiter.

To recognize the actuality of your friend, you should enrage him. If he still keeps up his friendship, then he is a true friend.

Islam is a definite rank. Faith is one rank higher than Islam. Conviction is one rank higher than faith.

To remove a mountain is easier than removing faith.

The desire for the worldly pleasures causes grief and sadness.

Abstinence from the worldly pleasures brings about the rest of both heart and body.

He who mistreats people should not complain when people mistreat him.

A Muslim always has three characteristics: knowledge about the religion, good management of life, and perseverance in the faces of calamities.

A real believer is one whose sexual appetite does not overcome him and whose stomach does not shame him.

Enjoining good and forbidding evil should be practiced with a faithful believer that he would learn a lesson.

Enjoining good and forbidding evil become surely worthless when they are applied to the powerful tyrants.

As some people showed ingratitude for Allah’s graces, He changed the graces into crises.

As other people showed steadfastness against the misfortunes that inflicted them, Allah changed the misfortunes into graces.

Thank him who did you favour, and confer upon him who thanked you.

Thanks increase the graces and saves against poverty.

To miss a need is better than asking it from other people.

Bad mannerism in a misfortune is more catastrophic than the misfortune itself.

A man asked him for a short advice that can benefit him in this world and the Next.

Imam [a.s] replied: NEVER UTTER LIES.

Imam As-Sadiq [a.s] was asked about eloquence. He answered: Eloquence is to express the idea in as few words as possible words.

Debt is grief at night and humility in day.

Treat your fathers piously so that your sons will treat you piously.

Keep yourselves away from the strange women so that your harem will be chaste.

Salutation is voluntary while responding is obligatory.

Do not answer those who speak before they greet you ‘Salaam’.

Shaking hands is the perfect greeting of the resident and embracement is the perfect greeting of the traveller.

Shake hands, because this will confiscate malice.

As for those who control themselves in rage, desire, fear, and lust, Allah will prevent Hell from burning their bodies.

Everything has limits. The limit of conviction is not to fear anything besides Allah.

Compiled by Muallim Mustafa Mawjee [hujjat.org]

#shia #ahlulbayt #islam #imam jafar #imam sadiq #25 Shawwal #شہادت ِ مولا امام جعفرِصادق علیہہ السلام

23 notes · View notes

justasparkwritings · 4 years ago

Text

Codename Cupid: Chapter 23

Previous: Cricket & OT7, Return to Sender

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x OFC

Genre: Secret AgentAU, Government AgentAU, Angst, Some Fluff

Rating: PG15

Word Count: 4.7K

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Consensual Sex

Summary: Black Panther & Codename Cupid meet, Golden Maknae & Black Panther attempt to find a solution

What happens when you're confronted with an undeniable lie you've been telling for nearly a year?

(like ... it’s hella long and I only love like... part of it)

Codename Black Panther Meets Codename Cupid

Present Day

It’s awkward, sitting in your office knowing a team of high level, highly intelligent men sit no more than a block away, surveying your every move. Taehyung and Jimin are in their truck, the bugs they’d planted months ago still in use, their sight line into my office unobstructed. So what do you do when you’re under surveillance? No more rapping Childish Gambino at the top of my lungs, no more dancing to ABBA when I’m tired of sitting… No more pretending to work and billing hours when I’m reading conspiracy theory blogs. No more making out with Jungkook when he stops by or whispering filth into his ear when our temperatures are escalating and the need for each other surpasses the need for air.

I have to remind myself what the most important aspect of being under surveillance is: Act like you aren’t.

Cupid enters my office in what I can only describe as a knockout outfit, head to toe Chanel, complete with a Birkin and what I can only assume are Hermes sunglasses. She looks stunning, more so than usual.

“Euna, so good to see you,” I say, gesturing for her to sit. She glances at the chair and shakes her head.

“For how much I pay you, you should be able to afford nicer furniture,” She hums.

“Can I get you a water?” I ask, the anger attempting to pull my smile from my lips.

“Please, Pellegrino?”

“Yes, lemon and regular,” I inform her.

“Lemon please,” She says. Cupid takes her sunglasses off and waits patiently for me to return.

“We have a few updates to discuss,” I tell her. “I have done a little more research on the –

“I came here to tell you that I will no longer be needing your service,” Cupid interrupts.

“I’m sorry, have I done something?” I ask, surprise willingly seeping through my features. “I know we had a tense conversation the last time you stopped by, but I didn’t think you wanted me to stop my work.”

“I have done some digging on my own and have come to the conclusion that it’s incredibly unprofessional of you to engage with Jeon Jungkook in a manner that is far more than casual lovers. He is not who he says he is, and I will not have you investigating your own boyfriend.”

“Euna, how do you know?”

“I have my sources,”

“I thought I was your source,” I counter.

“You are,”

“Then, who else are you working with?” I ask again.

“That is not for you to know,”

“Okay, but you are clearly mad at me, or frustrated with me, specifically regarding my love life, which is not up for discussion. I want to fix whatever is causing this, but I can’t do that if you don’t tell me.” My voice reaches the gravel pit my Speech Therapist told me is unhealthy, ravaging my vocal cords. I can’t tell what her end game is, but I know mine.

“I do not feel comfortable with him being near my family and being with you means he is. I won’t associate with someone so…,” Cupid scolds me, unable to finish her thought. “Further, I believe you have gone above and beyond what I initially requested, and I am satisfied with the work you have done.”

“Why is my relationship with Jungkook so-

“You have love in your eyes,” She says. I gnaw at the dead skin of my bottom lip. “You are no longer leading this investigation with a clear head, and I need someone whose mind isn’t filled with hope to get to the bottom of this. However he knows them, Jeon Jungkook is dangerous.”

“If you tell me, I can ensure he isn’t. We’ve been together for a while, Euna, he isn’t, he isn’t whatever you think he is,” I could easily be lying, in this moment, I have no idea who Jungkook is.

“Be careful, Y/N, you do not know what they’re capable of.”

“Euna,” I start again. How does she know he knows them? What intel does she have that I so clearly do not? “What are they capable of?”

“You don’t want to find out. Here is your last check, bonus included for your exceptional work. I do have one request.” Cupid stands, slipping her shades back over chocolate eyes.

“Okay?” I ask, standing to mirror her.

“Burn it all,”

“Burn it?”

“Whatever documentation you have from my time working with you, it would be in your best interest to burn it,” Euna chooses her words carefully, a trait of being a CEO. I swallow thickly, nodding my head.

“Okay, and Euna?” I ask.

“Hmm?”

“I’m sorry this wasn’t everything you wanted it to be, and that I couldn’t find Yoongi,” I concede.

“Oh, don’t apologize. I would be a terrible businesswoman if this was the end of my plans.” Replacing her frown with a gentle smile, she walks towards the door. “When you see Min Yoongi, tell him I’ll be waiting.”

“What makes you think I’ll be seeing Min Yoongi?”

“Oh Y/N, I have a little faith.”

I watch her leave and decide that banging my head against a wall regarding what Cupid knows and I don’t is worthless. I guarantee Namjoon has another file waiting for me with all the answers to the questions he’s assuming I’m going to ask. He isn’t wrong, I do have a million questions, ones for Jungkook, ones for Namjoon, about nine million for Yoongi, and a few for Jimin. Yoongi was so smug, arrogant, rude, a complete ass hole. I hate him. But I also deeply respect his game. I also completely understand why Jun-Seo fell for Jimin, he is by far the most gorgeous man I have ever seen up close, next to Taehyung. And Jungkook. In person? Holy fuck, Park Jimin can fucking get it.

Speaking of the man in question, who is now a suspect to Euna, is waiting patiently for me when I come home. Jungkook’s not stalking in the darkness, slinking through the night to find me, catching me off guard once I close the front door. He’s silent in his approach, waiting patiently for me. But tonight, either in an effort to smooth things over or out of the pure goodness of his heart, he’s home. He’s got takeout waiting on the table, glasses of water and booze sitting in the appropriate places, necessary silverware set in place. This isn’t fucking Thanksgiving, it’s a goddamned Thursday night. He himself is waiting patiently on the couch, lying down, eyes closed and soft snores coming out of his mouth. He looks cozy in ripped jeans and a sweatshirt, his hair growing long again, bleached, a look I was thoroughly against until I laid eyes on him.

Walking. Sex.

That’s the only way I can describe him.

“Go home,” I purposefully slam the door, jolting him from his slumber.

“I am home,” He responds.

“I can’t do this with you,”

“We need to talk,” he sits up and rubs the sleep from his eyes.

“I don’t want to talk right now, JK, I want to go to sleep,”

“JK?” His eyebrows raise to say hello to his hairline.

“Yes, I don’t want to talk, go home.”

“Cricket, you haven’t eaten dinner yet,” He reminds me.

I can feel the tears prickling again, the ones I’d shed in front of OT7, the ones I’d born in the car, the ones I’d been bottling up for the last thirty-six hours, trying to not be so obviously heartbroken as I stared Lee Euna down. I’m too sad to fight him, so I don’t, letting him stand and guide me to the table where the Thai awaits. Dropping my bag down, I walk through to my bedroom, into the bathroom and shut the door.

“I’m showering first,” I call, ignoring the protest in his eyes as I walked away.

It’s a little too spot on to blast Adele, but I don’t fucking care. I turn it as loudly as my neighbors will tolerate and sing my sorrows. Tears mixing with cleanser, the poetry of their juxtaposition not lost as Adele fades into Ben Platt, and I’m sobbing as I release the words, noticing the magnitude of the change of phrase:

Now my heart is in your hands, please don't give it up / This is not a temporary love / This is not a temporary love / No, this is not a temporary love / Now your heart is in my hands, please don't give it up

I know Jungkook will be waiting for me to finish showering, and I know he’ll be ready to listen. He’ll beat himself up over whatever I say, he’ll listen when my voice raises, when it cracks, when it shakes. He always does. I guess that’s the thing about Jungkook, no matter how inexperienced he feels about loving someone, taking care of them, supporting them, he always does it and does it well. He shows up, even when he feels like he can’t. It’s been over a year, never once have I doubted his dedication, his steadfast love, not when he walked into the meeting with OT7, or when he tried to follow me after, or in the voicemails and texts he’s left since. I’ve never doubted Jungkook.

I shuffle from the warmth of my bathroom towards the kitchen table, where Jungkook is sitting.

“I reheated your plate,” Jungkook says. He’s sitting quietly, eyes full and downcast.

“Thanks,”

“Do you want to eat then talk, or talk first?” He offers the two options, knowing which I’ll pick.

“Eat,” I sit across from him, noting how he placed my food as far from him as possible, a notable decision that not only highlights how deeply he knows me, but that he still fucking cares. “You ate already?”

“I, yeah, I couldn’t wait,” He’s shy, a blush on his cheeks.

“Why? You always wait,”

“I’ve been on a small mission for the last twenty-four hours, no food, and I’ve been so anxious about us that I just… Seeing you just made all that stress disappear, so I ate,” Jungkook tells me. He sniffles, his tears starting to fall.

“A small mission?”

“Mm, to find out what happened to Bow and Arrow in 2012 and 2014 respectively,” He answers.

“Did you find out?”

“Yeah, but, well, you haven’t been onboarded. But one of our rules is that you don’t discuss work outside of headquarters,”

“Right, sure, makes sense,” I nod. I glance at him again, nose red, tears still falling. “I can’t eat if you’re crying.”

“I’ll sit on the couch,” He stands and shuffles towards the grey clothed piece I scrimped and saved for. It’s beyond worn out, pills of fabric piled on the edges of cushions, stains from mishaps and craft projects I should’ve done at the table. It’s housed many naps and a few guests. Jungkook looks nestled amongst the pillows.

I eat my food quietly, trying to figure out what it is exactly that I want to tell him. I’m not entirely sure I know what will come out of my mouth when I have to stare into his Bambi eyes. But I think I know what will come out of his, and I don’t want to hear it.

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook starts. The dishes are cleared, and he’s waiting patiently for me on the couch. I don’t sit down, just stare at the spot above his head.

“How long have you known?” It’s better to just rip the bandage off, right?

“Four months,” Jungkook answers.

“How long have you known Jimin?”

“Eight years. How long have you known about my connection to Jimin and Taehyung?”

“A year,” I whisper. My sin seems far worse than his.

“A year?” Jungkook’s astonished. “You’re mad at me for a few months that were direct orders when you’ve been what, suspicious for a year?”

“You lied to me, fundamentally lied about who you are, I asked you for one fucking thing in this relationship, and you broke it.” I yell.

“Technically, you asked me two things, and I have followed through on both of those.” Why is his voice measured? Why doesn’t he yell when I yell?

“You lied!” My voice rises another octave, “What was your goal, to perpetuate the lie for as long as possible?”

“I had a job-

“I had a job!” I counter.

“My job requires me to do certain things without asking,” Jungkook’s tears continue to fall. “I asked if I could tell you, and I told you what I could.”

“You spied on me, gave all my evidence and –

“I didn’t spy on you,” His teeth are gritted, bunny smile lost to the nasty snare he’s tightened across his lips.

“Your friends spied on me,” I correct myself.

“You spied on my friends!” Jungkook countered.

“Your friends? The men that until two days ago I didn’t know were part of a giant governmental body that’s going to take down the largest conglomerate in the world? Who even are they? Who the fuck do they work for? What the fuck do they even do? I didn’t know you could be a secret organization without like, the federal government or Interpol knowing who you are but to my surprise, you can!”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, it’s aggressive and sharp, seeing his entire brain as they roll. “I had to lie. You, you knew and didn’t say anything. Why not say something?”

I sigh, I can tell him why I didn’t say anything, but I can’t tell him why I didn’t say anything. You know?

“I had no real proof that you really knew them,” I begin, “all I had was a hunch, a reaction they had that made it seem like they knew you. I put a few pieces together, but I didn’t have any real evidence that would hold up in court or against your withering stare. And, what if you were dangerous? OT7 is dangerous, you all could’ve hurt me. Why couldn’t me hiding it be about my safety?”

“You’re grasping at straws. If you had thought I wasn’t safe to be with, you wouldn’t be here a year later.”

“Tell me this, Jungkook, why, in front of all of your best friends, did you fucking let Namjoon tear me to pieces? Why, Jungkook, did you not say anything when you were left off my list of romantic partners? Do they not know about us? Do they not know you, we, love each other? Is this not what I thought it was?” Ah, and there the tears are.

“I wanted to be off the list,” He whispers.

“Why Jungkook? From where I’m standing, it fucking feels like you’re trying your hardest to erase me, like, like this almost year and a half that we’ve been together means nothing because I’m just a god damn mark. Is that what I am? Have I been reduced to that?”

“No!” He stands and shakes his head repeatedly.

“Then who am I to you? Am I your girlfriend? Am I your best friend? Or am I a piece in a larger puzzle that you are trying to solve?” I demand, pausing minutely to gasp for air. “I know what you are to me, I know how I feel about you. All my feelings have done in the last year is grow. I love you more than I did last week, I care about you more deeply than I did when you told me about how you were raised, a slight lie, but still honest. I see us, our life together more clearly than I ever have, but two days ago I.” I let the tears fall, pulling my mascara, never waterproof, and eyeshadow down with them. “I looked like the fool. I was the little girl attempting to play dress up with the fucking Tony Award winning cast of Catch Me if You Can. So, if I’m not the butt of the joke to you, who the fuck am I Jungkook?”

He wipes his eyes on his sleeves, which have covered his hands and are balled beneath his fingers. I’ve never seen him this upset. I know I’m not prepared for what is going to come out of his mouth.

“Namjoon tells people that we’re the one who knocks, but we aren’t. We’re the ones who send in the team to knock, we call all the shots, gather all the data, work the case until it is made out of marble. There are no cracks unless we have intentionally left them. We work as a unit, I don’t breathe without Hoseok knowing. I don’t brush my hair without Jimin catching it. We exist because of each other.” He sighs, “I took myself off the list on purpose. Your existence in my life is a threat. People know who I am, and if they know you…”

He shakes his head, a flash of what I experienced a few weeks ago, the idea of not coming home to this, to us… It’s in his eyes and it’s breaking my heart.

“I know we can keep you safe. I have full faith that our team will always protect you, but if I’m on that list, if there’s a trail of me to you, or vice versa. We’re at risk. I cannot, and I will not, lose you. I will not let my work put your life at risk, I will not sacrifice myself if it means I won’t come home to you. At the end of the day, isn’t that our promise to each other? I love you, and I am so sorry I lied to you, but my hands were tied. I can’t step out of line without risking everything OT7 is and does. I won’t do it.”

“I’m not asking you to be a coward,” I whisper.

“What?” Jungkook asks, for the first time in a few days, his eyes are softening, confusion replacing hurt.

"In Charmed, Phoebe asks Cole to back down, and he responds by saying he would do anything for her, except be a coward. He begs, please don’t ask me to be. I’m not asking you to be a coward, Jungkook.”

“I know you’re not. I asked Namjoon if I could tell you, about my job,”

“I remember,”

“I didn’t give specifics about who you are. I didn’t tell OT7 because I didn’t want you to be used in this case, I didn’t want this to be happening. But I walked into the offices and there you were, your photo, your stats, your codename,” A shiver runs over my spine at the mention of a codename, something so intentional, deliberate, precise. They’d taken the time to include me. “I didn’t know that Jimin and Taehyung had been following you for months or had interacted with you. They asked me point blank and I couldn’t lie. I wouldn’t lie about you, you’re too important. Namjoon gave me orders, and I’m obligated to follow them.”

“You lied to me,” I repeat.

“You lied to me, too.”

I stare at him, I don’t know how to fix this.

“We don’t have to forgive each other, or understand one another or work through it, now or ever. But I think that would be a disservice, a betrayal, of our relationship. You did ask me who you are to me, and the best way to explain it is this,” He grabs a paper off the coffee table and hands it to me, “Namjoon had me write it down.”

Cautiously I take the paper from him, typed and unedited, it’s longer than I expected. “Is this a twisted love letter?”

“You could say that,” Jungkook’s soft smile returns.

“Read it to me,” I hand it back.

Sniffling, “I’ll keep crying,”

“Please?” I ask again, sitting on the couch. He nods gently and sits next to me.

“Can I hold your hand?” He asks. The flames have been handled, dulled to hot embers as we sit, thigh touching thigh, his tattooed covered hand engulfing mine.

“Y/N and I began dating after meeting in a bar. I was struck by how stunning she was, how much I wanted to understand the flush of her cheeks, the curve of her jaw, the cadence of her laugh. We flirted, and I bought her drink. That first night in her apartment, where I now spend almost all of my time, I was overwhelmed by how much it felt like home… which is insane and I’ve never told her, but that night, I could just see us there, our future, all enfolding in front of me... Her apartment doesn’t turn you away or disinvite you once you’ve arrived, it’s far too warm and cozy, just like her. It’s my favorite place in the world, she’s my favorite place.

We spent the night laughing, kissing, getting to know each other. It was something in her eyes, in the way she absentmindedly traced my tattoos, how she fell asleep so easily in my arms. The next morning, we got breakfast, and I asked her out for a date on Monday. Dinner and a movie, classic. She let me hold her hand, and skillfully argued why she should pay for dinner. I compromised, she bought the movie tickets and treats. I barely paid attention to the movie, I just wanted to watch her laugh. Since that night, she’s all I ever think about.

She said she wanted to know what she was going to drown in before she dove in, and I knew in that moment that I loved her. I’ve never heard such poetry spoken, let alone about me, to me, before… She just, she was vulnerable without hesitation. I didn’t understand how she could be so delicate with me, so exposed, so willing to let me in. Her vulnerability welcomed mine, embraced it, and I’ve been loving her ever since.

I’ve never loved someone quite like her. She is brash, she makes decisions and sticks with them regardless of how difficult they make her life. She works side projects for neighbors, unpaid, to ease their lives. The man she rents her office from has a few kids, and in the summers, she takes a day a week to watch them. She hates cooking and brushes her teeth for over the recommended time because she’s terrified they’ll rot. She buys packs of the same popsicles and never leaves without a full water bottle. She hates sports, would rather sit in silence and stare at a wall than watch a football game, but she’ll check up on the highlights if it matters to me. She listens to the same music on a loop and adds in songs I love to her playlists because she wants to feel close to me, to understand me, to see me.

I could continue listing all the things about her, that I love, or all the things I love about our relationship… how we compromise, how we talk through our squabbles, how we respect each other, how we can communicate without speaking but know each other’s voice is our favorite sound. I love that she’s perceptive and asks for alone time when she needs to recharge and can sense from the tone in my voice when I need the same. I love how she sees me, listens to me, brings out the parts of me only OT7 knows. Like I said, I could keep writing… but it’s easier to put it this way:

Y/N is the love of my life, and I will do anything to protect her, to love her, to come home to her every day and every night that she’ll have me.

I will not break my promise to her. Lock and key.”

Jungkook sets the paper down and doesn’t look at me. I’m openly balling next to him, sobs ripping through me in quick succession.

No one has ever loved me like this.

I’ve only dreamed of love like this, I mean, no one has this, right? He’s offering it to me, no strings attached, no secrets, love for the sake of love. Love without penance or an additional cost to it. Here he is, all ink and doe eyes, holding me, the woman who lied to him, deceived him, was suspicious of him for months, hoping he still holds that love for me.

“You’re just, you’re the love of my life,” I wail, hands still covering my face as snot gloms onto my palms.

“Cricket,” Jungkook wraps his arms around me as his tears fall onto my body. “I love you.”

“I’m sorry I lied, I’m sorry I kept it from you. I just, I didn’t know and I,”

“Shh, Cricket, it’s okay,”

“Bunny,” I say, “I’m sorry. I forgive you. You don’t have to forgive me.”

“I forgive you,” He tells me.

“You do?”

“Yes. I’ve watched every member of OT7 lose their relationships, be beaten up over a fake relationship with a mark, giving themselves to someone to have it crumble under direct orders. Jimin is still trying to unravel the Arrow if it all. I didn’t, I didn’t want work to ruin us.”

“You wouldn’t let it,” I assure him.

“I wouldn’t, but there’s always the threat,”

“Are you secretly more cunning than I give you credit for?”

“Absolutely,” He smirks.

“I missed you,” I whisper. Can he hear my heartache? We’ve never gone 36 hours apart… not since our first month or two dating. It’s horrible, I hate it.

“It hasn’t been two days,” His chuckle is light, a sniffle accompanying the sound.

“I know, I missed you though,” I nuzzle deeper into his side, my nose brushing his neck.

“I missed you too,”

“I don’t want to ever fight like that again,” I tell him.

“I can’t guarantee that we won’t,” He reaches his free arm around his torso, knitting his hands together, solidifying my body to him.

“Can you promise me something?” I ask.

“Yes,”

“I promise not to quote Runaway Bride in its entirety,” I start. “But I will still quote it,” I sit up, eyes swollen and red, finding focus on his marble cut features. “Promise me that when things get tough, when one or the both of us wants out, we’ll remember that we made it through this, and we can make it through anything.”

“Do you know in your heart that I’m the one for you?” He asks.

I hate that he leans into my vulnerability, that I’m unable to hide myself from him. I’ve never been able to, not the first night, and not now.

“I will regret it, every day of my life, if I don’t make you mine,” I recite.

“Promise me something,” Jungkook starts.

“The moon and the stars,” I tell him.

“That you won’t lie to me,” He says.

“I promise,” I stick my pinky out.

“You’ll come home to me, always,” He loops his with mine.

“I promise,” I kiss my right hand, he mimics the gesture. “Do you think, maybe we should –

“Move in?” He finishes. His gaze holds mine, all hope, no expectations.

“Yeah,” I nod.

“Yes, here?” It’s hard to imagine he was just crying, the excitement sweeping over his entire body as he stands up and shakes his fists.

“Is your lease up?” I laugh, he’s beyond cute.

“Fuck the lease,” He laughs coming back to the couch. His hands cup my cheeks, fingers gently pressing on my neck, thumb softly caressing my cheeks.

“Bunny?” I whisper, eyes flicking to his lips.

“Cricket,” He answers.

“Lock and key,”

“You and me,”

“You and me,” He leans forward, lips finally meeting. The anticipation of having him in my arms, the ache of his absence over the last day and a half, the unsteady calm of opening your heart to someone… it’s all there in how his lips move against mine, how his tongue gently passes my lips, how his hands move down my body. The opposite of hope is fear, the opposite of pain is joy, as we move together, bodies joining, sweat mixing and names said in pure ecstasy, Jungkook and I solidify what we’ve always known about each other and our relationship.

Lock and key, him and me.

Next: OT8

9 notes · View notes

histoireettralala · 4 years ago

Text

Henri III deserves better than his reputation.

@microcosme11 who was interested in knowing more about Henri III.

***

Henri III was the last Valois king of France (19/09/1551-02/08/1589) and certainly among the kings whose reputation was the most tarnished. You could say it was trashed by the black legend his enemies quickly wove around him: weak, effeminate, cowardly, treacherous, immoral... This is how he was depicted for centuries. For decades now, however, historians have worked to rediscover a misjudged king and rehabilitated a complex personality who was at odds, in many ways, with the expectations of his century. Henri III had above all a high idea of royal authority, and a modern conception of the state. In particularly difficult circumstances, he managed to avoid the wreck of the monarchy.

This post will try to be a quick summary of the circumstances of his reign, of his real qualities and personality, of the origin of the "black legend", and of his legacy as a king.

When the future Henri III was born, he wasn't destined for a crown. He was indeed the fourth son of Henri II and Catherine de Medici. Titled Duke of Anjou, he was given a thorough and refined education, as befitted a true prince of the Renaissance. His master Amyot, the most reputed of his time, was able to cultivate qualities that would make Henri a brilliant and eloquent prince " one of the best speakers of his era."

Henri was also Catherine's favorite child. He was good looking, smart, fashionable, an excellent swordsman. Aged only 16, he became Lieutenant General of the Kingdom, and he would soon prove his valor in the battlefield in Jarnac and Moncontour. Elected King of Poland and Grand Duke of Lituania under the name Henryk Walezy, his reign wouldn't last long - his brother Charles IX died without an heir and Henri immediately left Poland for France.

He was crowned on February 13, 1575, and two days later married the beautiful and smart Louise de Vaudémont, a princess of Lorraine, close to the famous and very influent House of Guise.

France was then in a very difficult situation. The Kingdom was divided and devastated by the wars of Religion. The warring parties were backed by foreign powers and France's political and economical condition suffered.

In the late XVIth century, the great lords of the Kingdom still acted like sovereigns of their own in many ways - the feudal order hadn't yet given way to the future absolutism (which would be the later creation of Richelieu and Louis XIII IMHO, in reaction precisely to the Great Lords' excessive capacity for nuisance). Henri III couldn't afford to overtly dismiss or displease them.

He had to stand up to three main parties: the Malcontents, the Protestants (leader: Henri, King of Navarre, his distant cousin), and the Catholics (led by the House of Guise). He knew that the restoration of peace and concord meant he had to get into everybody's good graces- a perilous proposition in such times. His whole life, Henri would have to find a balance. Nobody would be grateful for that. Mindful of his duty and his role as a mediator in the kingdom, he worked to establish the royal authority as effectively sovereign.

He would find enemies everywhere.

He was well spoken, soft spoken, elegant and well mannered: he would be mocked as weak and effeminate. He was clever and always favored diplomacy over shows of brute force: he would be despised for it and depicted as an immoral, cowardly prince. He wasn't as easily accessible as his predecessors: the Great lords didn't like that. When he got closer to the Guise, to appease the most radical Catholics, the Protestants rebelled. When he leaned towards Henri de Navarre, the League reacted violently. The balancing act harmed his reputation.

With the help of his ever present mother Catherine, he initiated a rapprochement with Henri de Navarre while supporting his brother's (François, Duke of Alençon) plans in the Spanish Netherlands: Protestants and Catholics coming together to face a common enemy (the Habsburgs) ? Excellent. That's a lesson Henri IV would remember.

Henri III was, in spite of his rather frail health, a hard worker. In 1584, after seven years of relative peace, strenghtening of the royal authority, and an intense legislative work, he was still childless - and his brother and heir François d'Alençon died of tuberculosis.

This was a great upset in the game.

Because the new heir was Henri de Navarre - leader of the Protestant party. Which of course was unacceptable for the Catholic opinion. Paris, who chose the Ligue, was dangerously agitated.

What a stroke of luck for Henri de Guise!

What was named then "La Guerre des Trois Henri" opposed three parties, not two. Although he was apparently allied to the ultra Catholics Guise, Henri III took care not to burn his bridges with the Protestants. The Habsburg support of Henri de Guise wasn't to his taste, and he didn't like the ambitious Duke. And if Navarre (whom he esteemed) was to lose entirely, Guise would become too powerful.

Guise was the first to move; exasperated by the King's caution, the Duke entered Paris in open defiance of the King, with the population cheering him on. Fearing a coup d'Etat, the King sent his own troops to Paris, and what happened was the famous "Journée des Barricades" (Barricade Day), on 13 May 1588.

What happened next ? Henri III took a terrible decision: for the peace of the Kingdom, for France to subsist as a State, for his authority to be maintained, Henri de Guise was to disappear. And there was a way to lure him: afraid that the King would sign peace with Navarre, Henri de Guise went to negotiate with Henri III in Blois. On December 23, Henri III had Henri de Guise assassinated by his own Guard, as well as his brother the Cardinal de Lorraine.

Was the King's opinion and attitude unclear before ? That's cleared now. But as for peace ? Never. The powerful Ligue lashed out in rage . The hatred was open. There were outloud calls of Death to the Tyrant.

Henri III would never see the Ligue destroyed: on the 1st August 1589, a fanatic monk by the name of Jacques Clément would stab him to death.

"This King was a good prince, if he'd met a better century", would write the chronicler Pierre de l'Estoile upon his death. In spite of his peculiar personality and the outburst of hatred he aroused, Henri also showed his qualities.

He had been raised in a humanist background and would protect the world of literature (Montaigne, Du Perron, Desportes); he was rather to be found working in his office with his ministers rather than on the battlefield. Although, when he had to, he was steadfast and brave in battle.

He was smart and usually able of compassion towards his adversaries.

He had faith, and his misfortunes made him find a refuge there. We know he even went on a spiritual retreat into a monastery for a while.

His contemporaries described him as a man who loved women - which was overlooked because he never granted any of his lovers a title of official mistress. He had for Marie de Clèves, Princess of Condé, a platonic, but deep passion, and the depth of his mourning after she brutally passed away in 1574, stunned the Court.

He married Louise de Vaudémont for her charm and her wit rather than for politics.

But in spite of this, the image we've had of him for centuries is indissociable from his "mignons" - effeminate youths clad in excentric outfits and wasting their time in frivolous games. He was painted as homosexual (and therefore despicable) based on pamphlets written by radical leaguers, radical calvinists, Malcontents. The high nobility didn't appreciate his "new ways", the refining of clothes and manners, the new court practices. The Ligue used against him a virulent propaganda, along with calls to rebellion and real campaigns of calumnies. And when he died, the change of dynasty didn't allow for a better, more impartial image to be offered. Queen Louise and the Duchess of Angoulême tried in vain to dispell this ambiguous image. The real culprits were'nt even be punished (Jacques Clément however perished).

And yet. He was the one who wanted concord and national unity in a country torn by wars of religion (he lived four of them). His long and unthanked political action allowed Henri IV to end half a century of cruel civil war.

Was he weak ? It is true he bowed to the many pressures of the Great lords. But he always took back control.

Cowardly ? He wasn't vainglorious. And he proved his personal courage, in the battlefields of his youth as well as at the time of his death (he fought off his killer).

Frivolous and immoral ? He loved pleasures, arts, and feasts. But he also was anxious about his soul and salute.

In the difficulties he had to face, he managed to rule and to leave France a considerable legislative body of work (Code Henri III).

What are some positive aspects of his reign ?

He launched loans to stabilize finances, he reduced the taille (tax), ensured the protection of cities, created offices, taxed luxury, taxed the clergy, revived the textile industry, revised farm leases, created fines for fraudsters, created a body of health officers and an assistance service for the needy and the orphans; he undertook the administrative reorganization of the kingdom, maintained the unity of France by overcoming the worst of wars, both civil and religious, and retained royal legitimacy through a regular transmission of power to Henri IV.

He held on his principle of royal authority and modern conception of the State. He maintained.

I agree with Pierre de l’Estoile.

“Décrié”: condemned, castigated, reviled.

Sources:

Wikipedia

https///www.histoire-pour-tous.fr/histoire-de-france/1481-henri-iii-le-dernier-des-valois.html

Pierre Chevallier: Henri III, roi shakespearien, 1985

Michel Pernot : Henri III, le roi décrié, 2017

Jean-François Solnon: Henri III: un désir de majesté, 2001

#my posts #xvi #henri iii #i'm not a historian #of course i'm far from telling everything this is just a quick defense of a man who deserves better than this sordid notoriety #i'm not saying he was flawless either #but for once he can get some credit #thanks @microcosme11

30 notes · View notes

roman-catholic-mass-readings · 4 years ago

Photo

16th November >> Mass Readings (USA)

Monday, Thirty Third Week in Ordinary Time

Saint Margaret of Scotland

Saint Gertrude, Virgin.

Monday, Thirty Third Week in Ordinary Time

(Liturgical Colour: Green)

First Reading

Revelation 1:1-4; 2:1-5

Realize how far you have fallen and repent.

The revelation of Jesus Christ, which God gave to him, to show his servants what must happen soon. He made it known by sending his angel to his servant John, who gives witness to the word of God and to the testimony of Jesus Christ by reporting what he saw. Blessed is the one who reads aloud and blessed are those who listen to this prophetic message and heed what is written in it, for the appointed time is near.

John, to the seven churches in Asia: grace to you and peace from him who is and who was and who is to come, and from the seven spirits before his throne.

I heard the Lord saying to me: “To the angel of the Church in Ephesus, write this:

“‘The one who holds the seven stars in his right hand and walks in the midst of the seven gold lampstands says this: “I know your works, your labor, and your endurance, and that you cannot tolerate the wicked; you have tested those who call themselves Apostles but are not, and discovered that they are impostors. Moreover, you have endurance and have suffered for my name, and you have not grown weary. Yet I hold this against you: you have lost the love you had at first. Realize how far you have fallen. Repent, and do the works you did at first. Otherwise, I will come to you and remove your lampstand from its place, unless you repent.”’”

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm

Psalm 1:1-2, 3, 4 and 6

R/ Those who are victorious I will feed from the tree of life.

Blessed the man who follows not

the counsel of the wicked

Nor walks in the way of sinners,

nor sits in the company of the insolent,

But delights in the law of the Lord

and meditates on his law day and night.

R/ Those who are victorious I will feed from the tree of life.

He is like a tree

planted near running water,

That yields its fruit in due season,

and whose leaves never fade.

Whatever he does, prospers.

R/ Those who are victorious I will feed from the tree of life.

Not so the wicked, not so;

they are like chaff which the wind drives away.

For the Lord watches over the way of the just,

but the way of the wicked vanishes.

R/Those who are victorious I will feed from the tree of life.

Gospel Acclamation

John 8:12

Alleluia, alleluia.

I am the light of the world, says the Lord;

whoever follows me will have the light of life.

Alleluia, alleluia.

Gospel

Luke 18:35-43

What do you want me to do for you? Lord, please let me see.

As Jesus approached Jericho a blind man was sitting by the roadside begging, and hearing a crowd going by, he inquired what was happening. They told him, “Jesus of Nazareth is passing by.” He shouted, “Jesus, Son of David, have pity on me!” The people walking in front rebuked him, telling him to be silent, but he kept calling out all the more, “Son of David, have pity on me!” Then Jesus stopped and ordered that he be brought to him; and when he came near, Jesus asked him, “What do you want me to do for you?” He replied, “Lord, please let me see.” Jesus told him, “Have sight; your faith has saved you.” He immediately received his sight and followed him, giving glory to God. When they saw this, all the people gave praise to God.

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

—————————

Saint Margaret of Scotland

(Liturgical Colour: White)

(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

Isaiah 58:6-11

Sharing your bread with the hungry.

Thus says the Lord:

This is the fasting that I wish:

releasing those bound unjustly,

untying the thongs of the yoke;

Setting free the oppressed,

breaking every yoke;

Sharing your bread with the hungry,

sheltering the oppressed and the homeless;

Clothing the naked when you see them,

and not turning your back on your own.

Then your light shall break forth like the dawn,

and your wound shall quickly be healed;

Your vindication shall go before you,

and the glory of the Lord shall be your rear guard.

Then you shall call, and the Lord will answer,

you shall cry for help, and he will say: Here I am!

If you remove from your midst oppression,

false accusation and malicious speech;

If you bestow your bread on the hungry

and satisfy the afflicted;

Then light shall rise for you in darkness,

and the gloom shall become for you like midday;

Then the Lord will guide you always

and give you plenty even on the parched land.

He will renew your strength,

and you shall be like a watered garden,

like a spring whose water never fails.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm

Psalm 112:1-2, 3-4, 5-6, 7-8, 9