They came over the snow to the bread’spurer snow, fumbled it in their hugehands, put their lips to itlike beasts, stared into the dark chalicewhere the wine shone, felt it sharpon their tongue, shivered as at a sinremembered, and heard love crymomentarily in their hearts’ manger. They rose and went back to their poorholdings, nakedContinue reading “The bread’s purer snow”
Tag Archives: Poetry
The plum you’re going to eat next summer
The plum you’re going to eat next summerdoesn’t exist yet; its potentiallives inside a tree you’ll never seein an orchard you’ll never see, will be touchedby a certain number of water dropletsbefore it reaches you, by certain anglesof light, by a finite amount of bugsand dust motes and handsyou’ll never know. The plum you aregoingContinue reading “The plum you’re going to eat next summer”
We Know All Things But the Truth
Step softly, under snow or rain, To find the place where men can pray;The way is all so very plain That we may lose the way. Oh, we have learnt to peer and pore On tortured puzzles from our youth,We know all labyrinthine lore,We are the three wise men of yore, And we know allContinue reading “We Know All Things But the Truth”
Praise
I praise you becauseyou are artist and scientistin one. When I am somewhatfearful of your power,your ability to work miracleswith a set—square, I hearyou murmuring to yourselfin a notation Beethovendreamed of but never achieved.You run off your scales ofrain water and sea water, playthe chords of the morningand evening light, sculpturewith shadow, join together leafbyContinue reading “Praise”
I Was Vicar of Large Things
I was vicar of large thingsin a small parish. Small-mindedI will not say, there were depthsin some of them I shrank backfrom, wells that the word “God”fell into and died away,and for all I know is stillfalling. Who goes for waterto such must prepare for a longwait. Their eyes looked at meand were the remainsContinue reading “I Was Vicar of Large Things”
R. S. Thomas – The Coming
And God held in his handA small globe. Look, he said.The son looked. Far off,As through water, he sawA scorched land of fierceColour. The light burnedThere; crusted buildingsCast their shadows: a brightSerpent, A riverUncoiled itself, radiantWith slime. On a bareHill a bare tree saddenedThe sky. Many peopleHeld out their thin armsTo it, as though waitingForContinue reading “R. S. Thomas – The Coming”
A Poem of the Venerable Bede
Christus est stella matutina, AlleluiaQui nocte saeculi transacta, AlleluiaLucem vitae sanctis promittit, Alleluia;Et pandit aeternam, Alleluia Christ is the morning star, Alleluia.who when the night of this world is past, Alleluiabrings to his saints the promise of the light of life, Alleluia;and opens everlasting day. Alleluia The Venerable Bede, Exposition of the Apocalypse
Love (iii)
Love bade me welcome: yet my soul drew back, Guilty of dust and sin.But quick-eyed Love, observing me grow slack From my first entrance in,Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning If I lacked anything. “A guest,” I answered, “worthy to be here”: Love said, “You shall be he.”“I, the unkind, ungrateful? Ah, my dear, IContinue reading “Love (iii)”
Locus Communis 