Far beyond, far beyond,
Deeper than the glassy pond,
My shivering spirit sits and weeps
And never sleeps.
Like the autumn dove that grieves,
Darkly hid in dove-like leaves,
So I moan within a woe
None may know.
Not having children, carrying pain and disfigurement, exiled in London to further her literary career: we can begin to list the trials of Mary Webb, but like all of us, at times she bore a woe that none may know. May we trust that it will pass or that we will learn how to confine it or to tell someone about it.
And may we be ready to listen, trusting the Spirit to give us wisdom when we need it.
Sure as new snow,
believe green leaves hide.
Sure as grey skies
when first they are spied.
Sharp tips awake:
hearts break –
a pain strange and wide,
as hard earth’s pierced
green growth from inside.
As sure as ice
leaf shoves death aside.
Sure as chill fear
deep down death’s defied.
‘Deep down death’s defied.’ Thank you Sister Johanna!
Sister Rose survived her ordeal, sleeping out in Sussex to help homeless people through Worthing Churches Homeless Project.. She does not yet know how much money she raised – along with two other Sisters – but when she tells me, I’ll let you know.
Sister says she was not too cold overnight, thanks to ‘the concept of layers’, and the big cardboard box within which she lay. It was an experience to be under the sky, and she felt greater sympathy for those who do this all the time.
It’s good to have her safely back in town!
Sister has a website for donations: https://mydonate.bt.com/fundraisers/rosearden-close1
She says thank you for all your support,