Waste of muscle, waste of brain, Waste of patience, waste of pain, Waste of manhood, waste of health, Waste of beauty, waste of wealth, Waste of blood, and waste of tears, Waste of youth’s most precious years, Waste of glory, waste of God,- War! Geoffrey...
Almost a century, and half a world away The children of Hiroshima were all on holiday; Not dreaming of the holocaust the heavens would release – They weren’t concerned with politics, or even peace. The children of Hiroshima, like youngsters anywhere, Ran out to...
I am deaf or this is dumb, This life and world apart from me To whom betrothed at birth I came, In whose silence most I see A calling soul, calling my scrutiny. You with religious faith, to whom Life speaks in words you understand – Believe, I also with my dumb...
As form in sculpture is the prisoner of the hard rock, so in everyday life it is the plain facts and natural happenings that conceal God and reveal him to us little by little under the mind’s tooling. R.S. Thomas (1913-2000), 'Emergings', Frequencies, 1978.
… All through history the great brush has not rested nor the paint dried; yet what that eye looking coolly, or, as we now, through the tears’ lenses, ever saw this work and it was not finished. R.S. Thomas (1913-2000), Poetry for Supper, 1958.
In the beginning God created the earth, and he looked upon it in his cosmic loneliness. And God said, ‘Let us make creatures out of mud, so mud can see what we have done.’ And God created every living thing that now moveth and one was man. Mud as man alone could...
What we call the beginning is often the end And to make an end is to make a beginning. The end is where we start from…. … A people without history Is not redeemed from time, for history is a pattern Of timeless moments. So, while the light fails On a winter’s...
They do not live in the world, Are not in time and space. From birth to death hurled No word do they have, not one To plant a foot upon, were never in any place. For with names the world was called Out of the empty air, With names was built and walled, Line and circle...
Thou art the peace of all things calm Thou art the place to hide from harm Thou art the light that shines in dark Thou art the heart’s eternal spark Thou art the door that’s open wide Thou art the guest who waits inside Thou art the stranger at the door Thou art the...
‘Do you believe in a God who can change the course of events on earth?’ ‘No, just the ordinary one.’ A laugh, But not so stupid: events He does not, it seems, determine for the most part. Whether He could is not to the point; it is not stupid to believe in a God who...
I come in the little things, Saith the Lord: Not borne on morning wings Of majesty, but I have set my feet Amidst the delicate and blade of wheat That springs triumphant in the furrowed sod. There do I dwell, in weakness and in power: Not broken or divided, saith our...
At once a voice outburst among The bleak twigs overhead In a full-hearted evensong Of joy unlimited; An aged thrush, frail, gaunt and small, An blast-beruffled plume, Had chosen thus to fling his soul Upon the growing gloom. So little cause for carollings Of such...