August 19, 2004

poetry

This is astounding. In light of some conversations I have been engaged in regarding ordination and parenting children into the faith, this is a great poem. I would challenge it on some level, but I resonate with the author.

Veni Creator

Come, Holy Spirit,
bending or not bending the grasses,
appearing or not above our heads in a tongue of flame,
at hay harvest or when they plough in the orchards,
or when snow covers crippled firs in the Sierra Nevada.

I am only a human being: I need visible signs.
I tire easily, building the stairway of abstraction.
Many a time I asked, you know it well,
that the statue in church lift its hand, only once, just once, for me.
But I understand that signs must be human,
therefore, call one person, anywhere on earth,
not me-after all I have some decency-
and allow me, when I look at that person,
to marvel at you.

- Czeslaw Milosz
Thus the incarnation, people. Indeed. Props to Hugo, again

Posted by tripp at August 19, 2004 01:55 PM
Comments


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