Tag Archives: cold

28 June: In Vinculis

Wilfrid Scawen Blunt was an English poet who was imprisoned for taking part in independence meetings and demonstrations in Ireland. This poem was praised by the Irish critic, Oscar Wilde. In Vinculis means ‘in chains’ as both Peter and Paul were, more than once. Their joint feast falls tomorrow. Let us pray for all prisoners, that in the Lord’s light their spirits may see light, in this world and the next.


Naked I came into the world of pleasure,
   And naked come I to this house of pain.
Here at the gate I lay down my life’s treasure,
   My pride, my garments and my name with men.
   The world and I henceforth shall be as twain,
No sound of me shall pierce for good or ill
   These walls of grief.  Nor shall I hear the vain
Laughter and tears of those who love me still.

Within, what new life waits me!  Little ease,
   Cold lying, hunger, nights of wakefulness,
Harsh orders given, no voice to soothe or please,
   Poor thieves for friends, for books rules meaningless;
This is the grave—nay, hell.  Yet, Lord of Might,
Still in Thy light my spirit shall see light.”

(from “A Critic in Pall Mall Being Extracts from Reviews and Miscellanies” by Oscar Wilde, E. V. (Edward Verrall) Lucas)

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Filed under Christian Unity, Daily Reflections, Justice and Peace, Laudato si', poetry

Interruption: On a cold and frosty morning

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The two old guys were sitting in the sun. Where the rays had not come through the grass was still frosted, there was paper thin ice on the waterbutts.

  • I’ve not seen the squirrel for a bit. Where do you think he is?
  • Maybe in a hole in a tree or a nest high up. He’ll come out when the sun gets to him.

A minute later, enter the squirrel, with a whole digestive biscuit in his mouth. He’s got at least one human well trained.

  • I don’t think you should bury it, Mr Squirrel!

But he did.

This story first appeared in the Will Turnstone blog.

Image from wikipedia, Eastern gray squirrel.

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Filed under Interruptions, Laudato si', PLaces, winter

November 26: Winter overtakes Autumn.

Hoar frost at Nonnington, Kent.

Bitter for Sweet

Summer is gone with all its roses,
  Its sun and perfumes and sweet flowers,
  Its warm air and refreshing showers:
    And even Autumn closes.

 Yea, Autumn's chilly self is going,
  And winter comes which is yet colder;
  Each day the hoar-frost waxes bolder,
    And the last buds cease blowing."

From Goblin Market, The Prince’s Progress, and Other Poems by Christina Rossetti.

With a different title, this would have been a straightforward descriptive poem but maybe we should think again. Summer, Autumn and Winter; why no mention of Spring and the hope it brings? Because the poet is feeling bitter, or examining bitterness?

There are people today, Christian people, who seem to have lost hope and become bitter. It was not Christina Rossetti’s default position, but clearly one she experienced and understood. Disappointment in love, twice over, may have contributed.

Not for us to succumb to bitterness. There maybe naught for our comfort in the news about the climate and the future of our grandchildren across the world, but we must acknowledge the reality of the bitterness and the realities that contribute to it. Which of those can we make even the smallest dent or scratch in? What do we, can we, repent of?

I’ll be out litterpicking tomorrow. That’s two spiritual works of mercy, I reckon: to instruct (by example) the ignorant who leave rubbish about, and to bear wrongs patiently. It’s a start.

And if winter comes, can spring be far behind?

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Filed under Autumn, Justice and Peace, Laudato si', poetry, winter

July 9. Readings from Mary Webb XVII: Beyond

 

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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.

samaritans cards 2019

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16 January 2019: ‘January’.

snowgapcropped

Sure as new snow,
below,
believe green leaves hide.

Sure as grey skies
we rise
when first they are spied.

Sharp tips awake:
hearts break –
a pain strange and wide,

as hard earth’s pierced
by fierce
green growth from inside.

As sure as ice
new life’s
leaf shoves death aside.

Sure as chill fear
God’s near:
deep down death’s defied.

SJC

‘Deep down death’s defied.’ Thank you Sister Johanna!

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Filed under Daily Reflections, poetry, Spring, winter

News of Stalwart Sister Rose.

moon-venus

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,

Maurice.

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Filed under Interruptions, Lent, PLaces