Monday 21 November 2011

avoidance

and now fall has come
and the sun is dying
its brilliance to be seen
its mortality illuminates
the stark austerity
of tree branches bare
and the grey in my hair

Sunday 13 November 2011

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.

~W.B. Yeats

Thursday 3 November 2011

Like an owl among the ruins

Your spirit, O Lord,
has settled inside me
like an owl among the ruins.
Myself a sanctuary
that Your presence redeems.

Hope's feather flutters
softly inside my chest

Your spirit, O Lord,
has settled inside me
like an owl among the ruins
and begun the lifelong work
of my sanctification

Your Word
magnified
upon my skin

Your spirit, O Lord,
has settled inside me
like an owl in its glory.
Myself a sanctuary
that You have made.

At Blackwater Pond

At Blackwater Pond the tossed waters
have settled after a night of rain. I dip
my cupped hands. I drink
a long time. It tastes
like stone, leaves, fire. It falls
cold into my body, waking
the bones. I hear them
deep inside me, whispering
oh what is that beautiful thing that just happened?

~Mary Oliver