Archive for December, 2015

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EXILE

The moon sheds silver shadows on the sky,

blue shadows on the snow;

the house-beams crack all night,

startling us with the news

that it is colder than we thought.

“Winter is closing in,” we say,

but winter moves us outward in imagination

to learn how cold it is to be exiled from the sun,

how lonely the darkness,

how welcome the light of any approaching star.

 

HERE IN THE NORTH

1.

The radiators wakened me

(four a.m., after a night of blizzard)

alarmed me with their frantic gushing,

a niagara roaring through the system,

gurgling, swirling, growling

through every pipe, making the circuit

of the house with urgency.

Anxiety washed over me — not just

concern about the state of the furnace,

but dread of where we might be carried

beyond sleep, through the storm:

to what cold shore?

2.

Day emerges with a rare shining:

not remnants of moonlight

or the early edge of dawn,

but the sheen of new snow

binding every branch.

Somehow the snowfall invaded

without waking us,

took over without resistance,

left us helpless at the window,

captives of beauty and cold.

3.

When you live in the north

where winter, white ogre,

grips the calendar for months,

then a bird’ s song in mid-March

tastes like Spanish wine,

and your heart can easily miss a beat

at the sight

of a puddle.

Sr. Kate

Clare leads us into the depths of Advent.

Following along with Papa Francisco she calls us to be “poor with the poor.”

For Advent reading: THE GREAT REFORMER by A, Ivereigh is the best of the best.

Austen tells the story of Jorge Mario Bergoglio, born into a lower middle class immigrant family, joined the Jesuits, himself called to the people of the slums, connecting and worshipping with our brothers and sisters of other communities, his pectoral cross, Christ the Good Shepherd.

Blessings on your journey!

ADVENT

These are the days when the whole pattern

is spread before us: the long intricate past,

the wars and wanderings, prophets and kings;

and the future as well, the vineyards and orchards

of the age to come, the safe and happy children

playing in the streets, the high road to peace

And our eyes are drawn to the center,

to the jewel at heart of the plotted web,

to a girl in a village and her ordinary life,

her willing response to mystery

when it came seeking her,

to the answer she gave

and the light it poured

over the whole story.

Sr. Kate