Category Archives: Poetry

A Meeting in a Part

In a dream I meet

my dead friend. He has,

I know, gone long and far,

and yet he is the same

for the dead are changeless.

They grow no older.

It is I who have changed,

grown strange to what I was.

Yet I, the changed one,

ask: “How you been?”

He grins and looks at me.

“I been eating peaches

off some mighty fine trees.”


——–Wendell Berry

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Song of the Builders

On a summer morning
I sat down
on a hillside
to think about God –
a worthy pastime.
Near me, I saw
a single cricket;
it was moving the grains of the hillside
this way and that way.
How great was its energy,
how humble its effort.
Let us hope
it will always be like this,
each of us going on
in our inexplicable ways
building the universe.

—-Mary Oliver 

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Filed under Contemplation, Mary Oliver, Poetry

The Peace About Wild Things

When despair for the world grows in me

and I wake in the night at the least sound

in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,

I go and lie down where the wood drake

rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.

I come into the peace of wild things

who do not tax their lives with forethought

of grief. I come into the presence of still water.

And I feel above me the day-blind stars

waiting with their light. For a time

I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.


—–Wendell Berry

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What We Need Is Here

Wendell Berry speaking in Frankfort, Indiana

Wendell Berry 

Geese appear high over us,
pass, and the sky closes. Abandon,
as in love or sleep, holds
them to their way, clear
in the ancient faith: what we need
is here. And we pray, not
for new earth or heaven, but to be
quiet in heart, and in eye,
clear. What we need is here.

——-Wendell Berry

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The Living Flame of Love

The Ladder of Divine Ascent is an important ic...

I share the poem of John of the Cross as a sacred reading for the day.

              O living flame of love

              that tenderly wounds my soul
              in its deepest center! Since
              now you are not oppressive,
              now consummate! if it be your will:
              tear through the veil of this sweet encounter!
              O sweet cautery,
              O delightful wound!
              O gentle hand! O delicate touch
              that tastes of eternal life
              and pays every debt!
              In killing you changed death to life.
              O lamps of fire!
              in whose splendors
              the deep caverns of feeling,
              once obscure and blind,
              now give forth, so rarely, so exquisitely,
              both warmth and light to their Beloved.
              How gently and lovingly
              you wake in my heart,
              where in secret you dwell alone;
              and in your sweet breathing,
              filled with good and glory,
              how tenderly you swell my heart with love.

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Filed under Ascetics, John of the Cross, Poetry, Sacred Reading

As the Ruin Falls

image“All this is flashy rhetoric about loving you.

I never had a selfless thought since I was born.

I am mercenary and self-seeking through and through:

I want God, you, all friends, merely to serve my turn.


Peace, re-assurance, pleasure, are the goals I seek,

I cannot crawl one inch outside my proper skin:

I talk of love –a scholar’s parrot may talk Greek–

But, self-imprisoned, always end where I begin.


Only that now you have taught me (but how late) my lack.

I see the chasm. And everything you are was making

My heart into a bridge by which I might get back

From exile, and grow man. And now the bridge is breaking.


For this I bless you as the ruin falls. The pains

You give me are more precious than all other gains.”


                                                                    ——-C S Lewis


Filed under C. S. Lewis, Poetry

Where I am from:

 I have just returned from a retreat that was put together by our Bishop. The question below was one of our activities. I want to share this thought with you.

 Where I am from:

English: Mystery archway This beautifully made...

I am from a place that no longer lives except in my mind.
For it is up to me to make it still be.

I am from a place that taught me how to be
For it is up to me to be who I am.

I am from a place of discovery
For it now up to me to teach others to live as discovers.

I am from a place of mystery
For it is now up to me to share that mystery

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