a handful of quietness

As I walked out one evening, Walking down Bristol Street, The crowds upon the pavement Were fields of harvest wheat. And down by the brimming river I heard a lover sing Under an arch of the railway: ‘Love has no ending. ‘I’ll love you, dear, I’ll love you Till China and Africa meet, And the river jumps over the mountain And the salmon sing in the street, ‘I’ll love you till the ocean Is folded and hung up to dry And the seven stars go squawking Like geese about the sky. ‘The years shall run like rabbits, For in my arms I hold The Flower of the Ages, And the first love of the world.' But all the clocks in the city Began to whirr and chime: ‘O let not Time deceive you, You cannot conquer Time. ‘In the burrows of the Nightmare Where Justice naked is, Time watches from the shadow And coughs when you would kiss. ‘In headaches and in worry Vaguely life leaks away, And Time will have his fancy To-morrow or to-day. ‘Into many a green valley Drifts the appalling snow; Time breaks the threaded dances And the diver’s brilliant bow. ‘O plunge your hands in water, Plunge them in up to the wrist; Stare, stare in the basin And wonder what you’ve missed. ‘The glacier knocks in the cupboard, The desert sighs in the bed, And the crack in the tea-cup opens A lane to the land of the dead. ‘Where the beggars raffle the banknotes And the Giant is enchanting to Jack, And the Lily-white Boy is a Roarer, And Jill goes down on her back. ‘O look, look in the mirror, O look in your distress: Life remains a blessing Although you cannot bless. ‘O stand, stand at the window As the tears scald and start; You shall love your crooked neighbour With your crooked heart.'

"Any emotion. All emotion. I mean," she paused to look out across sea stretching beside us. "It just seems unnecessary sometimes. Doesn’t it? I think life would be easier if we didn’t feel sadness or pain, or anger, or even happiness. Because when we experience good emotions, it just makes the sadness or anger that much stronger. The higher the peak the farther to fall. I almost think I’d rather be an empty box of nothing then this roller coaster I can’t control and I can’t trust. Everyone is asking what does your heart tell you?while at the same time saying don’t trust your feelings. Which is it?"

and the night within seemed to retreat just a little bit.

for our very souls.

1.22.14

NC snow

I met a local artist back in October, and he asked if I would be interested in writing a piece to accompany one of his paintings. After much agonizing and two months later, this is what I emailed him. It will hang next to his painting "Between Heaven and Earth".

The tender flesh itself will be found one day -quite surprisingly- to be capable of receiving, And yes, full capable of embracing the searing energies of God. Go figure. Fear not. For even at its beginning the humble clay received God's art, whereby one part became the eye, another the ear, and yet another this impetuous hand. There, the flesh is not to be excluded from the wisdom and the power that now and ever animates all things. His life-giving agency is made perfect, we are told, in weakness- made perfect in the flesh. -St. Irenaeus (c. 125-c. 210) Adapted and translated by Scott Cairns