Grey waters

Someone wonderful recently introduced me to R.S. Thomas… here’s one of his poems that I already love! (thanks SL!)

Sea-Watching

 

Grey waters, vast 

                        as an area of prayer

that one enters. Daily

                      over a period of years

I have let my eye rest on them.

Was I waiting for something?

                                          Nothing

but that continuous waving

                             that is without meaning

occurred.

              Ah, but a rare bird is

rare. It is when one is not looking

at times one is not there

                                  that it comes.

You must wear your eyes out

as others their knees.

               I became the hermit

of the rocks, habited with the wind

and the mist. There were days,

so beautiful the emptiness

it might have filled,

                          its absence

was as its presence; not to be told

any more, so single my mind

after its long fast,

                          my watching from praying.

- R.S. Thomas

in Laboratories of the Spirit, 1975 

grow

God, grow in us - your life in us, transforming our potential beyond our imaginings.

The Monastic Way

“When we look at the world around us we see

the earth,

the sky,

the water,

the plants,

the trees,

the animals

and people.

But what we have to do is look behind all these phenomena

and discover their hidden source.

Most people stop with the phenomena:

they appreciate the earth or sky or flowers

or the sun or stars,

they admire the beauty

but they do not try to find the hidden source of the sky and flowers,

of every single thing.

We see beyond only when we look with the eyes of the heart.”

- Bede Griffiths, OSB  

 

excellent investments…

Yesterday and today I’ve had the joy of spending time with one of my favourite 4 year olds (and his lovely parents!).

As a result, I’ve discussed dinosaur bones over dinner, filmed his ‘dancing’ (on request) and his air-guitar to Bob Dylan songs (where did he learn about air-guitar?!), been told I buy THE coolest presents ever (I scored mega with a £2 transformer toy I took for him!), and have pretended I couldn’t see him countless times today when he was ‘hiding’ in a garden (he giggles too much to be a good hider!).

Since his birth, he’s been one of the most healing presences in my world - there’s something about connecting with his wild world that completely ‘takes me out of myself’ and helps me to see a different perspective.

I thank God for that ‘little bundle’, who’s growing into a ‘big boy’…(or if he had his way, growing into a ‘Power Ranger’!). He gives so much love, and is like a literal tonic - everything seems better after a few hours with him! :0) 

I love his parents, and was quite settled that I’d love their child when ’it’ arrived, whoever he/she turned out to be - I don’t think I ever realised I’d gain quite so much back. Good returns eh! Better than any other kind of bank I know!

 

weeds?!

of all the lovely things in the garden, I confess I have quite a soft spot for some of the alleged weeds…

     

Eleanor Blakely Dickinson’s poem, ‘Forget me not’ ends with these words:

….Like thoughts of home in climes afar;
Like evening’s still returning star;
Like tears which fall when the heart is sad,
Almost as sweet as that heart were glad;
Like friendship found where we sought it not;
In bower and garden, in field and grot,
Spring thy fair flowers, Forget me not.

 

It’s not an original thought to wonder who decides which things are weeds, and who decides what ‘the right place’ for them to grow is anyway… maybe something beautiful always finds itself in the right place?