I never saw a moor, I never saw the sea; Yet know I how the heather looks, And what a wave must be. I never spoke with God, Nor visited in heaven; Yet certain am I of the spot As if the chart were given.
Authority
No preacher No professor No policeman Nor police state No prince No president No prime minister Nor pope No general No journalist No expert Nor idol I know No authority But God. Stilled England, 24th March 2020.
I asked for strength
I asked God for strength that I might achieve. I was made weak, that I might learn humbly to obey. I asked for health, that I might do greater things. I was given infirmity that I might do better things. I asked for riches, that I might be happy. I was given poverty, that I might be wise. I asked for power, that I might have the praise of men. I was given weakness, that I might feel the need of God. I asked for all things, that I might enjoy life. I was given life, that I might enjoy all things. I got nothing that I asked for - but everything I had hoped for. Almost despite myself, my unspoken prayers were answered. I am, among all men, most richly blessed. Prayer of an unknown confederate soldier (1861-3)
God be in my head
God be in my head And in my understanding; God be in myne eyes, And in my looking; God be in my mouth And in my speaking; God be in my heart, And in my thynking; God be at my end, And at my departing. The Sarum Missal (11th century English origin)
Night Thought – Kathleen Raine
My soul and I last night Looked down together. I said, 'Here we are, come To the worst. Look down That chasm where all has fallen, The rose-bush and the garden And the ancestral hills, Every remembered stone. Of that first house There is no trace, none. You'll never cross that burn, Again, nor the white strand Where lifted from the deep Shells lie upon the sand Or among sea-pinks blown, Never hear again those wild sea-voices call, Eider and gull rejoicing. Turn away, turn From the closed door of home, You live there no longer, Nor shall again. You have no place at all Anywhere on earth That is your own, and none Calls you back again.' Soul said, 'Before you were I spanned the abyss: Freedom it is, unbounded, Unbounded laughter, Come!'
Going up in smoke
The soul that projects itself entirely into activity, and seeks itself outside itself in the work of its own will is like a madman who sleeps on the sidewalk in front of his house instead of living inside where it is quiet and warm. The soul that throws itself outdoors in order to find itself in the effects of its own work is like a fire that has no desire to burn but seeks only to go up in smoke.
Thomas Merton
Small Mind & I
I have a small mind. It is accustomed to working with concepts, to solving and fixing. It is satisfied with its questions, and proud of its answers. It becomes uncomfortable when placed in a container of silence. It perceives the possibility of demotion, and begins to fuss and fidget. It shows itself to be an insecure child, the amnesiac offspring of a secular world. In defence of my small mind, and to give it its due, it has generated much beauty, sculpted words, crafted sounds, refined spaces. It ensures that I have cleaned my teeth and paid the bills. I am glad of its companionship, and grateful for its service. After much strife, we have reached a conclusion: we are on the same team, my small mind and I. So now, engaged in the patient art of not-expecting, we sit together in quietness, without activity or movement, and slowly learn what we were not taught. We meet ourselves as we are: a singular lens, an awareness, an emptying vessel opening itself to the breath of creation.
Today there is no furrow
Today there is no furrow,
not even yet a plow,
only movement unestablished
with no what, nor where nor how.
A package of uncertainty,
a weight to savour straight,
unburdened from the duty
of location, place and date.
Reaching into no man’s land
through fetters, chains and threads,
persisting and perspiring
as the unknown folds and spreads.
With delicate maneuvers
aimed to heal and then re-make,
which paradox will open up
the route that I must take?
Shoreline
The chrome ocean,
a motionless ripple.
The fisherman's boat,
a craft of reflection.
A pure moment held
in the divine presence.
Fire of the spirit
Fire of the Spirit, life of the lives of creatures,
spiral of sanctity, bond of all natures,
glow of charity, lights of clarity, taste
of sweetness to sinners, be with us and hear us.
Composer of all things, light of all the risen,
key of salvation, release from the dark prison,
hope of all unions, scope of chastities, joy
in the glory, strong honour, be with us and hear us.
Amen.
Hildegard Von Bingen.
Being a walking question mark 