(To Gabriel)
You are much nearer God
than I, in solitude, withdrawn,
can ever hope to be.
You are the blood-tinged cloud at dawn,
you are the dew my feet have trod.
I am the tree.
You are the rising sun.
Your solemn words are like the heat
that now envelops me.
You are a message, incomplete,
you are the start of what’s begun.
I am the tree.
You are the breeze that blows
the scent of cedar and of love
across Lake Galilee.
You are the unsubstantial dove.
You are the fate I never chose.
I am the tree.
You are a bird in flight.
You are the sea-gull or the swan,
a soul at liberty
whose wings have carried you beyond
the limitations of the night.
I am the tree.
I am the tree whose roots
will spread beyond restraining walls.
One blossom here will be
the fresh fruit which, before it falls,
will ripen till it institutes
eternity.
After a poem by Rilke
—Conor Kelly
YOU MIGHT ALSO LIKE
Christian Ownership Maximalism
Christendom is gone. So, too, is much of the Western civilization that was built atop it. Christians…
Abandonment of Truth (ft. George Weigel)
In the latest installment of the ongoing interview series with contributing editor Mark Bauerlein, George Weigel joins…
Kings, Behold and Wail
I was a full-time parish priest at a time when we still visited people in their homes.…
