Get Up and Follow Me
Love sometimes does pass our little lives
and stops and speaks: Get up and follow me.
We look, look up, into each other’s eyes,
get up, leave all and follow hand in hand.
There is a love that’s larger than the sun,
it knows the shade, the night, it knows no end,
it’s definite and infinite, it flows
through our hearts, till two are truly one.
Christina Egan © 2000
These lines were inspired by the biblical stories of Jesus calling his followers, who literally got up, left everything behind and — followed him. Just imagine you are getting up from your desk this minute to walk out of your life!
I wrote this poem for my own wedding and recommend it also for anniversaries; a long time together is not eternity yet, but a great achievement and a great gift. Perhaps you could even use it for Valentine’s Day.
One year later:
My 125th post!
In den Gezeiten des Lebens,
in dem Getriebe der Stadt
suchst du verzweifelt, vergebens
Liebe, die Zukunft hat.
Tritt ins Portal einer Kirche,
schau’ in die flackernde Flut,
entzünd’ eine winzige Kerze
und wisse: Alles wird gut.
Alles ist zugewogen,
Liebe und Freude und Leid;
niemand wird je betrogen
um Sinn und um Seligkeit.
Christina Egan © 2011
St Ludwig, Berlin (near Ku’damm).
Photograph: Christina Egan © 2016
“Everything is weighed for you, love and joy and suffering; nobody will ever be cheated out of meaning and of bliss.”
I believe this beyond any doubt, although not everything will come all right this side of death. Lighting a candle in a place of worship in the midst of our busy lives gives us comfort and peace at any rate.
This poem on faith and destiny was published in a previous edition of the Münsterschwarzacher Bildkalender. The 2017 calendar is available now, with 52 photographs and 52 poems and addresses (one of them by me: psalm für dich).
The moonless night, the iron gate,
between the trees the winding path,
the nameless pond: a polished plate,
obscure and truthful looking-glass –
The moonless night, the nameless pond,
the outline of a cruel fate:
the leaves are shed, the blossom gone –
It is too late – It is too late.
Christina Egan © 2015
O Traum von Liebe, Traum von Licht
auf einem duftenden Gesicht,
vom kleinen Rosengartenglück
aus einem mächtigen Geschick,
vom Dasein als Orangenzweig,
an Blüte reich und Frucht zugleich,
vom ganz bescheidnen Paradies,
das dir und mir ein Gott verhieß…
O Traum, der niemals untergeht –
Es ist zu spät. Es ist zu spät.
Christina Egan © 2016
The two poems contain an echo, and echo each other, in the phrase ‘It is too late’ — ‘Es ist zu spät’, which emphasises the futility of wishes and plans when fate is irrevocably against them.
Obsidian is a very dark and very hard stone. Some ancient civilisations used polished slabs as mirrors. Apparently, they were also employed for fortune-telling!
Photograph: Aztec mirror, Museum of the Americas, Madrid. – Simon Burchell via Wikimedia Commons. – Orange branch: Christina Egan © 2012.