T. S. Eliot

POETRY: I Said To My Soul, Be Still, And Let The Dark Come Upon You by T. S. Eliot

December 5, 2018

(from Four Quartets) I said to my soul, be still, and let the dark come upon you Which shall be the darkness of God. As, in a theatre, The lights are extinguished, for the scene to be changed With a hollow rumble of wings, with a movement of darkness on darkness, And we know that the hills and the trees, the distant panorama And the bold imposing facade are all being rolled away— Or as, when an underground train, in the tube, stops too long between stations And the conversation rises and slowly fades into silence And you see behind every face the mental emptiness deepen Leaving only the growing terror of nothing to think about; Or when, under ether, the mind is conscious but conscious of nothing— I said to my soul, be still, and wait [...]

POETRY: Ash Wednesday by T. S. Eliot

March 1, 2017

Blessed sister, holy mother, spirit of the fountain, spirit of the garden, Suffer us not to mock ourselves with falsehood Teach us to care and not to care Teach us to sit still Even among these rocks, Our peace in His will And even among these rocks Sister, mother And spirit of the river, spirit of the sea, Suffer me not to be separated And let my cry come unto [...]

POETRY: The Dry Salvages by T. S. Eliot

November 9, 2016

No. 3 of “Four Quartets” (The Dry Salvages—presumably les trois sauvages—is a small group of rocks, with a beacon, off the N.E. coast of Cape Ann, Massachusetts. Salvages is pronounced to rhyme with assuages. Groaner: a whistling buoy.) I I do not know much about gods; but I think that the river Is a strong brown god—sullen, untamed and intractable, Patient to some degree, at first recognised as a frontier; Useful, untrustworthy, as a conveyor of commerce; Then only a problem confronting the builder of bridges. The problem once solved, the brown god is almost forgotten By the dwellers in cities—ever, however, implacable. Keeping his seasons and rages, destroyer, reminder Of what men choose to forget. Unhonoured, [...]

PRAYER: O Light Invisible, by T. S. Eliot

August 5, 2013

From The Rock O Light Invisible, we praise thee! Too bright for mortal vision. O 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 glow light on a grassblade. O 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 colored panes of windows And light reflected from the polished stone, The gilded carven wood, the colored fresco. Our gaze is submarine, our eyes look upward And see the light that [...]

PRAYER: Prayers For The Healing Of The Earth

June 24, 2013

U. N. Environmental Sabbath Program We join with the Earth and with each other. To bring new life to the land To restore the waters To refresh the air We join with the earth and with each other. To renew the forests To care for the plants To protect the creatures We join with the Earth and with each other. To celebrate the seas To rejoice in the sunlight To sing the song of the stars We join with the Earth and with each other. To recreate the human community To promote justice and peace To remember our children We join with the Earth and with each other. We join together as many and diverse expressions of one loving mystery: for the healing of the Earth and the renewal of all life. Nancy Wood My help is in the mountain Where I take [...]

POETRY: The Journey of the Magi by T. S. Eliot

January 5, 2013

“A cold coming we had of it, Just the worst time of year For a journey, and such a long journey: The ways deep and the weather sharp, The very dead of winter.” And the camels galled, sore-footed, refractory, Lying down in the melting snow. There were times we regretted The summer palaces on slopes, the terraces, And the silken girls bringing sherbet. Then the camel men cursing and grumbling And running away, and wanting their liquor and women, And the night-fires going out, and the lack of shelters, And the cities hostile and the towns unfriendly And the villages dirty and charging high prices: A hard time we had of it. At the end we preferred to travel all night, Sleeping in snatches, With the voices singing in our ears, saying That [...]

POETRY: Little Gidding (part I) from Four Quartets by T. S. Eliot

May 30, 2012

Midwinter spring is its own season Sempiternal though sodden towards sundown, Suspended in time, between pole and tropic. When the short day is brightest, with frost and fire, The brief sun flames the ice, on pond and ditches, In windless cold that is the heart’s heat, Reflecting in a watery mirror A glare that is blindness in the early afternoon. And glow more intense than blaze of branch, or brazier, Stirs the dumb spirit: no wind, but pentecostal fire In the dark time of the year. Between melting and freezing The soul’s sap quivers. There is no earth smell Or smell of living thing. This is the spring time But not in time’s covenant. Now the hedgerow Is blanched for an hour with transitory blossom Of snow, a bloom more [...]