Soul of Christ

  • Chapter Ten (Part One)—From The Malignant Enemy, Defend Me by Marie Paul Curley
    From Soul of Christ These last couple of petitions of the Anima Christi prayer remind us of the vigilance we need on our journey to transformation in Christ.  This petition acknowledges our powerlessness to live the fullness of the Christian life on our own.  We plead for Christ’s protection from the devil, from the terrible evils of our day, from our own tendencies to sin, and from whatever can lead us into sin. From the malignant enemy… Today, people often think about the devil from [...]
Newly added

PRAYER: For Thy Pity by King Henry VI

Lord Jesu Christ, that madest me, That boughtest me on rode-tree And fore-ordainedst that I be, Thou knowst what thou wouldst do with me; Do with me now as pleaseth thee. Amen, Jesu, for thy [...]

Consolations

  • Beginning by David Whyte
    From Consolations Beginning well or beginning poorly, what is important is simply to begin, but the ability to  make a good beginning is also an art form.  Beginning well involves a clearing away of the crass, the irrelevant, and the complicated to find the beautiful, often hidden lineaments of the essential and the necessary. Beginning is [...]

Heaven on Earth

My Brilliant Abyss

  • Radical Openness by Christian Wiman
    From My Bright Abyss The frustration we feel when trying to explain or justify God, whether to ourselves or to others, is a symptom of knowledge untethered from innocence, of words in which no silence lives, of belief occurring wholly on a human plane.  Innocence returns us to the first call of God, to any moment in our lives when we were [...]

All Things New

  • Looking For The Kingdom by John Eldredge
    From All Things New The north shore of Kauai is one of the most beautiful places on Earth, and the pastures above the cliffs overlooking Anini Beach are some of the last open lands in that paradise.  From those verdant meadows you can look out on the whales and dolphins playing in the Pacific, watch the breakers roll in and crash over the reef below.  It is an [...]

The Earth

  • The Grace Of Farewell
    We come home, shut and lock the door, and pull the drapes together. Nature has been shut out. The wind.  The stars.  The rain. It doesn’t matter.  It’s out there. And we are safe inside here. Increasingly, I think that we like to feel separate from nature because we don’t want to listen to her.  We don’t want to know what she teaches us everyday.  We want to be our [...]

Holy Spirit

Earth Psalms

Psalms

  • Psalm 147 by W. Robert Godfrey
    From Learning to Love the Psalms Book Two of the Psalter reflects on the king’s commitment to the Kingdom of God.  Psalm 147 praises God for providing for his people and building up his kingdom.  The focus on the kingdom in this psalm is obvious in several verses: “The Lord builds up Jerusalem; he gathers the [...]

Grounded

  • The Spiritual Quest For Water by Diana Butler Bass
    From Grounded  Throughout human history, the quest for God has often been connected with a quest for freshwater.  Just off the road in the Scottish village of Invermoriston is an ancient well fed by a spring that has existed since pre-Christian times.  According to local legend, the spring was once toxic and people feared the water, believing it was possessed by evil spirits.  When people [...]

Nature writing

  • The Scavengers by Mary Austin
    From: The Land of Little Rain Fifty-seven buzzards, one on each of fifty-seven fence posts at the rancho El Tejon, on a mirage-breeding September morning, sat solemnly while the white tilted travelers’ vans lumbered down the Canada de los Uvas. After three hours they had only clapped their wings, or exchanged posts. The season’s end in the vast dim valley of the San Joaquin is palpitatingly hot, and the air breathes like cottonwool. Through it all the buzzards sit on the fences and low [...]

Contemporary Christian poets

  • We Will Now Hear The Word Of God From Each Of Our Beloved Chaplains by Daniel Berrigan

    POETRY: We Will Now Hear The Word Of God From Each Of Our Beloved Chaplains by Daniel Berrigan

    1. Rev Stump is believe it or not for real as a stump to a grown tree so he to the verdant gospel this corpulent burgher this fictitious rubbery stamp Stump a huckster’s a hack’s gospel Stump wormwood miles of smiles 2. the priest an irish caricature wheels up in his Cadillac each a.m. an alderman to a cobbler’s funeral we the dead faces his asperges hisses on have yet like Lazarus in hell one cold Christian curse bestowal, [...]
  • The Liar’s Psalm—Repentance by Andrew Hudgins

    POETRY: The Liar’s Psalm—Repentance by Andrew Hudgins

    I repent the actual. It has never got me anywhere. It is nothing against principalities, against powers. My father will die and I will carry on. I dread his death more than mine because it will come sooner—knowledge I repent. In lies he will outlive the liar. And that’s me. The lie itself will carry on, is itself a child, a separate life, a blow against the gods of objects. Who are not happy with me or with their densities. They are not worth their flawed kingdoms. And neither do I love [...]
  • What My Teachers Taught Me I Try To Teach My Students by Maura Eichner

    POETRY: What My Teachers Taught Me I Try To Teach My Students by Maura Eichner

    A bird in the hand is not to be desired. In writing, nothing is too much trouble. Culture is nourished, not by fact, but by myth. Continually think of those who were truly great who in their lives fought for life, who wore at their hearts, the fire’s center. Feel the meanings the words hide. Make routine a stimulus. Remember it can cease. Forge hosannahs from doubt. Hammer on doors with the heart. All occasions invite God’s mercies and all times are his [...]
  • Dash It by Annie Dillard

    POETRY: Dash It by Annie Dillard

    How wonderfully it was all arranged that each Of us had not too long to live. This is one Of the main snags—the shortness of the day. The whole wood was whispering, “Dash it, dash it….” What joy—to walk along that path! The snow Was so fragrant in the sun! What a fish! Whenever I think of death, the same stupid Question arises: “What’s to be done?” As for myself, I can only speak of what Made me marvel when I saw it for the first time. I remember my own youth when I was in love. [...]
  • Juggler by Richard Wilbur

    POETRY: Juggler by Richard Wilbur

    A ball will bounce, but less and less. It’s not A light-hearted thing, resents its own resilience. Falling is what it loves, and the earth falls So in our hearts from brilliance, Settles and is forgot. It takes a sky-blue juggler with five red balls To shake our gravity up. Whee, in the air The balls roll round, wheel on his wheeling hands, Learning the ways of lightness, alter to spheres Grazing his finger ends, Cling to their courses there, Swinging a small heaven about his ears. But a [...]
  • The Chimes Of Neverwhere by Les Murray

    POETRY: The Chimes Of Neverwhere by Les Murray

    How many times did the Church prevent war? Who knows? Those wars did not occur. How many numbers don’t count before ten? Treasures of the Devil in Neverwhere. The neither state of Neverwhere is hard to place as near or far since all things that didn’t take place are there and things that have lost the place they took: Herr Hitler’s buildings, King James’s cigar, the happiness of Armenia, the Abelard children, the Manchu’s return are there with the Pictish Grammar Book. The girl who [...]
  • Imagist At Coney Island by Maura Eichner

    POETRY: Imagist At Coney Island by Maura Eichner

    One decade into the 20th century, Pound, with his back to Brooklyn, pointed his beard to the Atlantic. Simply to receive the kingdom, Ezra linked arms with John Butler Yeats. Their shoes filled with sand. Pleasure rode the water, solid as Staten Island Ferry. At dusk, lights rose like a fever chart. Coney Island “marvelous against the night.” In the amusement park Yeats rode an elephant on the merry-go-round, “smiling Elijah in the beatific vision.” Pound leaned against a railing [...]
  • Apple Fools by David Craig

    POETRY: Apple Fools by David Craig

    Apple fools we are Ripe as cups of cider and the horse’s clodded wake let the wet mornings come ring out green beans beneath the leaves pumpkin piping on the vine Speckled corn aloft Indian feathered high on the door Squash squats on the rafters pot belly bent legged Buddha stove boots and coveralls Give us this grace and all this day the crowded table the pinions’ [...]
  • Fire And St. Francis by Andrew Hudgins

    POETRY: Fire And St. Francis by Andrew Hudgins

    1. As he sat eating by the fire one night a spark was lifted on a wisp of air and set on the folds of cloth that wrapped his groin. But when he felt the heat so near his flesh he wouldn’t raise his hands against the fire or let his worried friends extinguish it. You mustn’t harm the flames or spoil their play, he said to them. Don’t these bright creatures have as much a right as I to be happy? For seconds his disciples stared as the flames climbed up the cloth and nearer to his skin. And [...]
  • From A Woman's Life by Maura Eichner

    POETRY: From A Woman’s Life by Maura Eichner

    What Mary knew was just enough for the usual day; pull water, flint fire, bake bread, smile, pray the dark orations, sleep, wake wait. When pain hones a nerve, when birth or dying clotted an hour, she leaned to the curve of living, resilient to fear, laughter, suffering. Partings are a little death. Each one’s journey is a thing wholly without precedent. She looked at the sky for compass. None. She, too, created a road to travel [...]
  • Teresa by Richard Wilbur

    POETRY: Teresa by Richard Wilbur

    After the sun’s eclipse, The brighter angel and the spear which drew A bridal outcry from her open lips, She could not prove it true, Nor think at first of any means to test By what she had been wedded or possessed. Not all cries were the same; there was an island in mythology Called by the very vowels of her name Where vagrants of the sea, Changed by a wand, were made to squeal and cry As heavy captives in a witch’s sty. The proof came soon and plain: Visions were true which [...]
  • Francis Meets A Leper by David Citino

    POETRY: Francis Meets A Leper by David Citino

    He heard the bell toll, erratic in a palsied hand, and smelled the goatish scent before he saw the figure moving in mist on the road to Assisi, a traveler gloved and shod, as was the law, to hide the sores, a man’s inhumanity, missing fingers and toes, and tried to unmask the face, slack muscles showing nothing but astonishment, lower lids keeping eyes open always to our providential decay, flesh soft and thick as rotten wood. Francis saw in bleary eyes, near to him as his mother’s [...]
  • A Wonder Of Origins by Daniel Berrigan

    POETRY: A Wonder Of Origins by Daniel Berrigan

    flower points to a bird, bird cries like a closed eye I see your dreams. Things like my heart I never see, but see hearts bird-shaped, flower-shaped, the radiant weightless shadow my heart casts—upward, to ground; a rose, a wintering bird. They meet, they summer plummet and signet, in Hero’s [...]
  • The Misery Cord by Les Murray

    POETRY: The Misery Cord by Les Murray

    In Memory of F. S. Murray  Misericord. The Misery Cord. It was lettered on a wall. I know that cord, how it’s tough to break however hard you haul. My cousin sharefarmed, and so got half: half dignity, half hope, half income, for his full work. To get a place of his own took his whole lifetime. Some pluck the misery chord from habit or for luck, however they feel, some to deceive, and some for the tune— but sometimes it’s real. Milking bails, flannel shirts, fried breakfasts, these were [...]
  • October by David Brendan Hopes

    POETRY: October by David Brendan Hopes

    It’s nuthatch on the box elder outside the window. He’s making his clown’s voice, nnink, nning, nnink, pecking to grubs, seeds, scraps. The first snow powdered down last night while he slept, and as birds have dreams there’s snow in his song now. Nighthawk heard it. He is gone. Warbler heard it. She is gone. Thrasher went. Finch went. You could hear them at night, little bells so far off you thought they were the stars ringing. I sat on an empty hill and said goodbye. [...]
  • Whole Wheat, Decaf Black, A Morbid Curiosity by David Citino

    POETRY: Whole Wheat, Decaf Black, A Morbid Curiosity by David Citino

    We study the paper, fingers darkening with the stinking ink of the daily news, as Dad bangs Mommy’s head against the bedroom wall, the thud like coming thunder, as baby’s shaken until the crying stops, as the sniper’s scope X’s-out another enemy of the tribe, all for ethnic cleaning, as, at the mall, boys dressed in street colors change forever the face of other boys with semi-automatic rage, as women of the village bind the girl, legs spread wide, the oyster cut from [...]
  • Letter From Santa Cruz by Maura Eichner

    POETRY: Letter From Santa Cruz by Maura Eichner

    I do not know the date. Calendars have no meaning here. One hundred miles north (or maybe more) from Santa Cruz our families live or try to live (and fail) farming rice. Five years ago only monkeys talked and swung in jungle trees. There is a road, but not when there is rain. It had been raining long when Marta died. Months ago, a doctor passing through told Marta that she ought to get to Santa Cruz. Some time, some time, Marta said, she would. She was busy at the well when the growth was big [...]
  • Litany by David Craig

    POETRY: Litany by David Craig

    Mother of Sorrow, Mother of stars and night fires, arroyos, tossed tequila bottles, the dead drunk. Mother of the streets, of the violent, weekend golfers, cut off, and a windshield smashed with bare fists; the knife, the absurdity, the day in court. Mother of amphetamines, the aging speed freak, who looks to kick around an oval track in a beat up stock car. Mother of the subways, the swaying lost. Mother of day laborers, children, early mornings, in the fields. Mother of Guatemala, of empty [...]
  • Ascension by Kathleen Norris

    POETRY: Ascension by Kathleen Norris

    Why do you stand looking up at the skies? (Acts 1:11) It wasn’t just wind, chasing thin gunmetal clouds across the loud sky; it wasn’t the feeling that one might ascend on that excited air, rising like a trumpet note. And it wasn’t just my sister’s water breaking, her crying out, the downward draw of blood and bone…. It was all of that, the mud and new grass pushing up through melting snow, the lilac in bud by my front door, bent low by last week’s ice storm. Now the new mother, [...]
  • Our Christmas Tree by Wendell Berry

    POETRY: Our Christmas Tree by Wendell Berry

    Our Christmas tree is not electrified, is not covered with little lights calling attention to themselves (we have had enough of little lights calling attention to themselves). Our tree is a cedar cut here, one of the fragrances of our place, hung with painted cones and paper stars folded long ago to praise our tree, Christ come into the [...]
  • POETRY: Immersion by Denise Levertov

    POETRY: Immersion by Denise Levertov

    There is anger abroad in the world, a numb thunder, because of God’s silence. But how naïve, to keep wanting words we could speak ourselves, English, Urdu, Tagalog, the French of Tours, the French of Haiti… Yes, that was one way omnipotence chose to address us—Hebrew, Aramaic, or whatever the patriarchs chose in their turn to call what they heard. Moses demanded the word, spoken and written. But perfect freedom assured other ways of speech. God is surely patiently trying to immerse us in [...]
  • Excerpts From The Angel Handbook by Kathleen Norris

    POETRY: Excerpts From The Angel Handbook by Kathleen Norris

    Be careful how you unfold your wings— there are some in the world who are not content unless their teeth are full of feathers You may find employment with the Sanitation Department or at any laundry When you ride subways wear ornate silver shoes and always stand near the door When you cross at intersections look both ways, then up It will often be expedient to altogether remove your wings from your back, where people will first think to look for them, and carry them around inside you— at [...]
  • Canaan by Geoffrey Hill

    POETRY: Canaan by Geoffrey Hill

    I They march at God’s pleasure through Flanders with machine-pistols, chorales, cannon of obese bronze, with groaning pushcarts, to topple Baal. At crossroads they hoist corpses and soiled banners of the Lamb. The sun takes assize. Aloof the blades of oblation rise, fall, as though they were not obstructed by blades of bone. II Fourier’s children their steeds, kazoos, the splashed fetlocks— deliquescent manna that most resembles a sudden urban sleet— shedding innocent blood [...]
  • The Bibliographers by Geoffrey Hill

    POETRY: The Bibliographers by Geoffrey Hill

    Lucifer blazing in superb effigies Among the world’s ambitious tragedies, Heaven-sent gift to the dark ages, Now, in the finest-possible light, We approach you; can estimate Your not unnatural height. Though the discrete progeny, Out of their swim, go deflated and dry, We know the feel of you, archaic beauty, Between the tombs, where the tombs still extrude, Overshadowing the sun-struck world: (The shadow-god envisaged in no [...]
  • Luke 14, a Commentary by Kathleen Norris

    POETRY: Luke 14, A Commentary by Kathleen Norris

    So he told a parable to those who were invited, when he noted how they chose the best places, saying to them: “When you are invited by anyone to a wedding feast, do not sit down in the best place, lest one more honorable than you be invited by him; and he who invited you and him come and say to you, ‘Give place to this man,’ and then you begin with shame to take the lowest place. But when you are invited, go and sit down in the lowest place, so that when he who invited you comes he may [...]
  • A Prayer To Eve by Kathleen Norris

    POETRY: A Prayer To Eve by Kathleen Norris

    Mother of fictions and of irony, help us to laugh. Mother of science and the critical method, keep up humble. Muse of listeners, hope of interpreters, inspire us to act. Bless our metaphors, that we might eat them. Help us to know, Eve, the one thing we must do. Come with us, muse of exile, mother of the [...]
  • In Memory Of Jane Fraser by Geoffrey Hill

    POETRY: In Memory Of Jane Fraser by Geoffrey Hill

    When snow like sheep lay in the fold And winds went begging at each door, And the far hills were blue with cold, And a cold shroud lay on the moor, She kept the siege. And every day We watched her brooking over death Like a strong bird above its prey. The room filled with the kettle’s breath. Damp curtains glued against the pane Sealed time away. Her body froze As if to freeze us all, and chain Creation to a stunned repose. She died before the world could stir. In March the ice unloosed [...]
  • Mrs. Adam by Kathleen Norris

    POETRY: Mrs. Adam by Kathleen Norris

    I have lately come to the conclusion that I am Eve, alias Mrs. Adam. You know, there is no account of her death in the Bible, and why am I not Eve? (Emily Dickinson in a letter, 12 January, 1846) Wake up, you’ll need your wits about you. This is not a dream, but a woman who loves you, speaking. She was there when you cried out; she brushed the terror away. She knew when it was time to sin. You were wise to let her handle it, and leave that place. We couldn’t speak at first for the bitter [...]
  • Genesis by Geoffrey Hill

    POETRY: Genesis by Geoffrey Hill

    I Against the burly air I strode Crying the miracles of God. And first I brought the sea to bear Upon the dead weight of the land; And the waves flourished at my prayer, The rivers spawned their sand. And where the streams were salt and full The tough pig-headed salmon strove, Ramming the ebb, in the tide’s pull, To reach the steady hills above. II The second day I stood and saw The osprey plunge with triggered claw, Feathering blood along the shore, To lay the living sinew bare. And the [...]
  • The End Of The World by Scott Cairns

    POETRY: The End Of The World by Scott Cairns

    The end of the world occurs with the first thaw. Waking from his first restful night in many months—a night without shivering, without cramp- ing muscles—the last man lifts his head from the straw, hears snow-melt trickling, sees morning light through the window’s ice, smells the scent of earth, lies back, and dies because he cannot bear to go through it all again. But that is a very limited view of the event. The end was more than the final exhaustion of the last man. Actually, some [...]
  • What The Figtree Said by Denise Levertov

    POETRY: What The Figtree Said by Denise Levertov

    Literal minds! Embarrassed humans! His friends were blurting for Him in secret: wouldn’t admit they were shocked. They thought Him petulant to curse me!—yet how could the Lord be unfair?—so they looked away, then and now. But I, I knew that helplessly barren though I was, my day had come. I served Christ the Poet, who spoke in images: I was at hand, a metaphor for their failure to bring forth what is within them (as figs were not within me). They who had walked in His sunlight [...]
  • On Slow Learning by Scott Cairns

    POETRY: On Slow Learning by Scott Cairns

    If you’ve ever owned a tortoise, you know how terribly difficult paper training can be for some pets. Even if you get so far as to instill in your tortoise the value of achieving the paper, there remains one obstacle— your tortoise’s intrinsic sloth. Even a well-intentioned tortoise may find himself in his journeys to be painfully far from the mark. Failing, your tortoise may shy away for weeks within his shell, utterly ashamed, or, looking up with tiny, wet eyes, might offer an [...]
  • The Beginning Of Wisdom by Denise Levertov

    POETRY: The Beginning Of Wisdom by Denise Levertov

    The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom: and the knowledge of the holy is understanding. (Proverbs 9:10) You have brought me so far. • I know so much. Names, verbs, images. My mind overflows, a drawer that can’t close • Unscathed among the tortured. Ignorant parchment uninscribed, light strokes only, where a scribe tried out a pen. • I am so small, a speck of dust moving across the huge world. The world a speck of dust in the universe. • Are you holding the universe? You [...]
  • On Being by Denise Levertov

    POETRY: Of Being by Denise Levertov

    I know this happiness is provisional: the looming presences— great suffering, great fear— withdraw only into peripheral vision: but ineluctable this shimmering of wind in the blue leaves: this flood of stillness widening the lake of sky: this need to dance, this need to kneel: this [...]
  • Another Song by Scott Cairns

    POETRY: Another Song by Scott Cairns

    Most mornings I wake up slowly. That’s just the way I am. I wake up slow as I can, listening first to one thing, then another. The milk bottles chiming just outside the door, then the milktruck idling in the street. If I’m lucky, the girl through the wall will be singing and I’ll hear her next, singing while she dresses. Maybe she’s brushing her hair, or tying the ribbon for her stocking —that would be nice. And out in the hall, some man will probably kiss Miss Weitz [...]
  • Our Lost Angels by Scott Cairns

    POETRY: Our Lost Angels by Scott Cairns

    Ages ago, clouds brought them near and rain brought them to our lips; they swam in every vase, every cupped palm. We took them into ourselves and were refreshed. For those luckier generations, angels were the sweet, quickening substance in all light, all water, every morsel of food. Until the day the sun changed some, as it had, took them skyward, but thereafter the clouds failed to restore them. In time, streams gave up every spirit, and the sea, unreplenished, finally became the void we had [...]
  • Salvator Mundi: Via Crucis by Denise Levertov

    POETRY: Salvator Mundi: Via Crucis by Denise Levertov

    Maybe he looked indeed much as Rembrandt envisioned Him in those small heads that seem in fact portraits of more than a model. A dark, still young, very intelligent face, a soul-mirror gaze of deep understanding, unjudging. That face, in extremis, would have clenched its teeth in a grimace not shown in even the great crucifixions. The burden of humanness (I begin to see) exacted from Him that He taste also the humiliation of dread, cold sweat of wanting to let the whole thing go, like any [...]
  • My Amusing Despair by Scott Cairns

    POETRY: My Amusing Despair by Scott Cairns

    I confess that I am not a modern man. As a modern man I am a little flawed. Raimundo is much too happy. Many times, more times than I would care to admit to you, I have suffered from this unforgivable lack, this absence. All around me, poets tearing at their bright blouses, tearing at their own bare flesh. All night long—their tortured singing. And still I have suffered an acute lack of despair. Why is that? Is Raimundo stupid? Am I unfeeling? Doesn’t the bleak weight of the north ever [...]
  • Ikon: The Harrowing of Hell by Denise Levertov

    POETRY: Ikon: The Harrowing of Hell by Denise Levertov

    Down through the tomb’s inward arch He has shouldered out into Limbo to gather them, dazed, from dreamless slumber: the merciful dead, the prophets, the innocents just His own age and those unnumbered others waiting here unaware, in an endless void He is ending now, stooping to tug at their hands, to pull them from their sarcophagi, dazzled, almost unwilling. Didmas, neighbor in death, Golgotha dust still streaked on the dried sweat of his body no one had washed and anointed, is here, for [...]
  • The Great Black Heron by Denise Levertov

    POETRY: The Great Black Heron by Denise Levertov

    Since I stroll in the woods more often than on this frequented path, it’s usually trees I observe; but among fellow humans what I like best is to see an old woman fishing alone at the end of a jetty, hours on end, plainly content. The Russians mushroom-hunting after a rain trail after themselves a world of red sarafans, nightingales, samovars, stoves to sleep on (though without doubt those are not what they can remember). Vietnamese families fishing or simply sitting as close as they can [...]

Jane Hirshfield

  • Mosquito by Jane Hirshfield
    I say I & a small mosquito drinks from my tongue but many say we and hear I say you or he and hear I what can we do with this problem a bowl held in both hands cannot be filled by its holder x, says the blue whale x, say the krill solve for y, says the ocean, then multiply by existence the feet of an ant make their own sound on the earth ice is astonished by water a person misreads delirium as delphinium and falls into a blueness sleepy as beauty when sneezing the pronoun [...]

Attentiveness

  • Our Family Stories by Leighton Ford
    From The Attentive Life As different as our personal family histories may be, they still are a good place to start paying attention. Here is one question my family story leads me to ask: Was I “conceived in sin” as an old translation of Psalm 51:5 says?  Or was it love?  I believe the latter, for I have read enough of my biological mother’s journal to know how deeply she cared then for Tom, my father. Further, I was chosen in love by my adoptive mother, Olive Ford, but I was twelve [...]

The Peaceable Kingdom

Early English Christianity

  • Prayer Upon Retiring by Edmund Rich
    Into thy hands, O Father and Lord, we commend this night our souls and our bodies, our parents and homes, friends and colleagues, neighbors and kindred, our benefactors and the faithful departed, all folk rightly believing, and all who need thy pity and protection: light us with thy holy grace, and suffer us never to be separated from thee, O Lord in Trinity, God everlasting. [...]

A Quote From Thomas Merton

Of course the festival of rain cannot be stopped, even in the city. The woman from the delicatessen scampers along the sidewalk with a newspaper over her head. The streets, suddenly washed, become transparent and alive, and the noise of traffic becomes a plashing of fountains. One would think that the urban man in a rainstorm would have to take account of nature in its wetness and freshness, its baptism and its renewal.

Psalm 147

147:  Praise ye the Lord: for it is good to sing praises unto our God; for it is pleasant; and praise is comely.

 

2 The Lord doth build up Jerusalem: he gathereth together the outcasts of Israel.

 

3 He healeth the broken in heart, and bindeth up their wounds.

 

4 He telleth the number of the stars; he calleth them all by their names.

 

5 Great is our Lord, and of great power: his understanding is infinite.

 

6 The Lord lifteth up the meek: he casteth the wicked down to the ground.

 

7 Sing unto the Lord with thanksgiving; sing praise upon the harp unto our God:

 

8 Who covereth the Heaven with clouds, who prepareth rain for the Earth, who maketh grass to grow upon the mountains.

 

9 He giveth to the beast his food, and to the young ravens which cry.

 

10 He delighteth not in the strength of the horse: he taketh not pleasure in the legs of a man.

 

11 The Lord taketh pleasure in them that fear him, in those that hope in his mercy.

 

12 Praise the Lord, O Jerusalem; praise thy God, O Zion.

 

13 For he hath strengthened the bars of thy gates; he hath blessed thy children within thee.

 

14 He maketh peace in thy borders, and filleth thee with the finest of the wheat.

 

15 He sendeth forth his commandment upon Earth: his word runneth very swiftly.

 

16 He giveth snow like wool: he scattereth the hoarfrost like ashes.

 

17 He casteth forth his ice like morsels: who can stand before his cold?

 

18 He sendeth out his word, and melteth them: he causeth his wind to blow, and the waters flow.

 

19 He sheweth his word unto Jacob, his statutes and his judgments unto Israel.

 

20 He hath not dealt so with any nation: and as for his judgments, they have not known them. Praise ye the Lord.