Every Friday we take some time out from the busy blog life to celebrate God through creative pursuits. Recognizing the great tapestry that is the arts, we do this through regularly linking to the photography of Alex Forrest, Joe Thorn, Steve McKoy and. I also regularly highlight a poet each week, featuring at least one poem. Lastly, I try to highlight a different musical artist each week who makes at least one or two of their tracks available for free and legal download.
Today’s featured poet is William Butler Yeats (1865-1939). Yeats was an Irish poet and wrote often about the Irish countryside. He was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1923, for what the committee described as “his always inspired poetry, which in a highly artistic form gives expression to the spirit of a whole nation”. Today we’ll feature two selections, one is about his famed countryside called “The Lake Isle of Innisfree” and the other is entitled “When You Are Old.”
The Lake Isle of Innisfree
I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,
And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made;
Nine bean rows will I have there, a hive for the honeybee,
And live alone in the bee-loud glade.
And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,
Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;
There midnight’s all a-glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
And evening full of the linnet’s wings.
I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear the water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements gray,
I hear it in the deep heart’s core.
When You Are Old
When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;
How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim Soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;
And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.
This week’s musical selection is one of my long-time favorites. I remember living in Louisville and coming across these guys on Epitonic. My wife was out of town and I remember getting immediately in the car, going to Ear X-tacy and buying their Faithful Anchor full-length and their Firecracker EP. 
Originating in Seattle, Unwed Sailor plays bass-driven melodic instrumentals just the way instrumental indie-rock ought to be played. Melodies that will linger, accessibility to keep you and complexity enough to keep you interested.
When will we see some original Brent Thomas poems?
Ask and ye shall recieve!