by revd | Feb 25, 2022 | Our Father
I think that I shall never see A billboard lovely as a tree. Perhaps unless the billboards fall, I’ll never see a tree at all. Ogden Nash (1902 – 71), Song of the Open Road, 1933.
by revd | Feb 25, 2022 | Our Father
Suddenly after long silence he has become voluble. He addresses me from a myriad directions with fluency of water, the articulateness of green leaves: and in the genes, too, the components of my existence. The rock, so long speechless, is the library of his poetry. He...
by revd | Feb 25, 2022 | Our Father
And God is the weight that bends the bough of the young tree gently as spring snow. He is the lightness of the summer flower, of the bee’s touch, and his the power that tames the sea and poises like a feather or a loose leaf the world. He threads together the stars...
by revd | Feb 25, 2022 | Our Father
The poet must carve a path out of the world’s stone that leads up to the word of God. And this without knowing whether his words have the fine engraved edges of words in a monument or the movement you see in the travelling stars or opening flowers. In a child’s...
by revd | Feb 25, 2022 | Our Father
Shall I collect together all the words that praise your holy name? Shall I give you all the names of this world, you, the unnameable? Shall I call you, “God of my life, meaning of my existence, hallowing of my acts, my journey’s end, bitterness of my bitter hours,...
