THE OTHER
There are nights that are so still
that I can hear the small owl calling
far off and a fox barking
miles away. It is then that I lie
in the lean hours awake listening
to the swell born somewhere in the Atlantic
rising and falling, rising and falling
wave on wave on the long shore
by the village, that is without light
and companionless. And the thought comes
of that other being who is awake, too,
letting our prayers break on him,
not like this for a few hours,
but for days, years, for eternity.
-R. S. Thomas
A beautiful and very meaningful poem to share!
LikeLike
Eternity.
Amen.
LikeLike
That’s how I feel at the cottage.
LikeLike
Oh, that’s beautiful. Thank you, dear GJ.
LikeLike
Hmmmm. I want to meditate more on these waves. Thank you for sharing!
LikeLike
Such a rich and meditative poem. I’ll have to check out this poet.
LikeLike
I just looked up R.S. Thomas, and my first thought is that he seems the perfect poet for times like these.
LikeLike
Oh I like that! Three a.m. is usually when my prayers break on Him. I see I’m not alone! 🙂
LikeLike