April 09, 2009

Meditation On The Last Discourse~a poem

The Solitary Cross at the Chapel of the Resurection, Little Portion retreat center Eureka Springs AR


I go to the Father,
to the deep secret of my heart,
to the place of white lightning
in the morning grass
I will run where peace lives
and apples with wine colored faces
apples that laugh like wine

I come from the Father
from Him who is warm caves
in the nameless hills
from a shoreless sea
and a day of sun
and a raucous wind in the waves

I come always
Coming is who I AM
I go always
Through the clenched muscles
of a hundred mountains
through darkness like dark syrup
that swallows my footprints
and abolishes my shape

But I go to the Father
to the great secret
who leaps on young hills
who pushes the bones of the mountains
out of the sea
And sets the forth
or rose colored ridges

I go to the secret of my heart

Father
I have given away Your Word
and they who received it
are those who sing on the roads of blood
who speak it to the setting sun
who whisper it to the hearth fire
on winter nights

Father
You are He who speaks to me
Who shouts me forth from cool caves
from whose darkness
I tumble into the light
I am Your Daylight
I am the song of your morning
I am the blue of your noon day
A wind
buildding castles in the sand
I am the waterfall of air
that goes to sleep
in orchards of plum blossom

Father
I come to You

Mother Mirriam Pollard OCSO
Santa Rita Abbey
Sonoita AZ

Labels: Little Portion