I took my husband down to the sea for his birthday weekend.
What a good idea!
He fell asleep on the sand, just like in the summer.
Very good poem to sink into in this winter light
and moonlight and shadows. It is a prayer:
( here it is read by Eliot)
O Light Invisible
by T. S. Eliot
О Greater Light, we praise Thee for the less;
The eastern light our spires touch at morning,
The light that slants upon our western doors at evening.
The twilight over stagnant pools at batflight,
Moon light and star light, owl and moth light,
Glow-worm glowlight on a grassblade.
О Light Invisible, we worship Thee!
We thank Thee for the lights that we have kindled,
The light of altar and of sanctuary;
Small lights of those who meditate at midnight
And lights directed through the coloured panes of windows
And light reflected from the polished stone,
The gilded carven wood, the coloured fresco.
Our gaze is submarine, our eyes look upward
And see the light that fractures through unquiet water.
We see the light but see not whence it comes.
О Light Invisible, we glorify Thee!
In our rhythm of earthly life we tire of light. We are glad
when the day ends, when the play ends; and ecstasy is too
much pain.
We are children quickly tired: children who are up in the night
and fall asleep as the rocket is fired; and the day is long for
work or play.
We tire of distraction or concentration, we sleep and are glad
to sleep,
Controlled by the rhythm of blood and the day and the night
and the seasons.
And we must extinguish the candle, put out the light and
relight it;
Forever must quench, forever relight the flame.
Therefore we thank Thee for our little light, that is dappled
with shadow.
We thank Thee who hast moved us to building, to finding, to
forming at the ends of our fingers and beams of our eyes.
The eastern light our spires touch at morning,
The light that slants upon our western doors at evening.
The twilight over stagnant pools at batflight,
Moon light and star light, owl and moth light,
Glow-worm glowlight on a grassblade.
О Light Invisible, we worship Thee!
We thank Thee for the lights that we have kindled,
The light of altar and of sanctuary;
Small lights of those who meditate at midnight
And lights directed through the coloured panes of windows
And light reflected from the polished stone,
The gilded carven wood, the coloured fresco.
Our gaze is submarine, our eyes look upward
And see the light that fractures through unquiet water.
We see the light but see not whence it comes.
О Light Invisible, we glorify Thee!
In our rhythm of earthly life we tire of light. We are glad
when the day ends, when the play ends; and ecstasy is too
much pain.
We are children quickly tired: children who are up in the night
and fall asleep as the rocket is fired; and the day is long for
work or play.
We tire of distraction or concentration, we sleep and are glad
to sleep,
Controlled by the rhythm of blood and the day and the night
and the seasons.
And we must extinguish the candle, put out the light and
relight it;
Forever must quench, forever relight the flame.
Therefore we thank Thee for our little light, that is dappled
with shadow.
We thank Thee who hast moved us to building, to finding, to
forming at the ends of our fingers and beams of our eyes.
3 comments:
LOVE it! Happy Birthday Bonnie's husband!
In our rhythm of earthly life we tire of light. Oh yes, and how beautiful.
I haven't known that poem before - it captures a lot of what I was trying to express in my blog post, plus more! I need to copy it out and read it several times. I really need the soul-warming this cloudy cold day, and may re-kindle the "hearth light." Thank you!
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