Category Archives: poetry

The invisible geography.

poetry, , , ,

A MORNING OFFERING

I bless the night that nourished my heart
To set the ghosts of longing free
Into the flow and figure of dream
That went to harvest from the dark
Bread for the hunger no one sees.

All that is eternal in me
Welcome the wonder of this day,
The field of brightness it creates
Offering time for each thing
To arise and illuminate.

I place on the altar of dawn:
The quiet loyalty of breath,
The tent of thought where I shelter,
Wave of desire I am shore to
And all beauty drawn to the eye.

May my mind come alive today
To the invisible geography
That invites me to new frontiers,
To break the dead shell of yesterdays,
To risk being disturbed and changed.

May I have the courage today
To live the life that I would love,
To postpone my dream no longer
But do at last what I came here for
And waste my heart on fear no more.

-John O’Donohue

The moon dapples the apples.

beauty, poetry, , , , ,

MOONLIT APPLES

At the top of the house the apples are laid in rows,
And the skylight lets the moonlight in, and those
Apples are deep-sea apples of green. There goes
A cloud on the moon in the autumn night.

A mouse in the wainscot scratches, and scratches, and then
There is no sound at the top of the house of men
Or mice; and the cloud is blown, and the moon again
Dapples the apples with deep-sea light.

They are lying in rows there, under the gloomy beams;
On the sagging floor; they gather the silver streams
Out of the moon, those moonlit apples of dreams,
And quiet is the steep stair under.

In the corridors under there is nothing but sleep.
And stiller than ever on orchard boughs they keep
Tryst with the moon, and deep is the silence, deep
On moon-washed apples of wonder.

-John Drinkwater

 

We plough the fields and scatter,

music, poetry, , , ,

I have always loved this hymn since singing it in the Presbyterian church of my childhood. I included it in a booklet of Thanksgiving hymns I put together some years ago, for our family to sing when we gathered for the feast. Here is John Rutter conducting a choir singing it: We Plough the Fields and Scatter. The lyrics have undergone some adaptation over the decades, which you can read about on Wikipedia where the hymn has its own entry.

Matthias Claudius published this poem in Germany, where it was set to music attributed to Johann A. P. Schulz, in 1800. I also like this bold instrumental version: We Plough the Fields and Scatter.

WE PLOUGH THE FIELDS AND SCATTER

We plough the fields and scatter
the good seed on the land,
but it is fed and watered
by God’s almighty hand;
he sends the snow in winter,
the warmth to swell the grain,
the breezes and the sunshine,
and soft refreshing rain.

He only is the Maker
of all things near and far;
he paints the wayside flower,
he lights the evening star;
the wind and waves obey him,
by him the birds are fed;
much more to us, his children,
he gives our daily bread.

We thank thee, then, O Father,
for all things bright and good,
the seed-time and the harvest,
our life, our health, our food.
Accept the gifts we offer
for all your love imparts,
with what we know you long for:
our humble, thankful hearts.

All good gifts around us
are sent from heaven above;
then thank the Lord, O thank the Lord
for all his love.

-Matthias Claudius (1740 – 1815) Germany