Another lectio divina poem. This one is a reflection on a phrase from "On Marriage", with some ideas from "On Children", from The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran.
God cannot tell all that She knows,
for God is in the silent unfolding
of every heart, every flower,
every moment.
God is in the wind that dances
between lover and beloved.
She is the Archer
who lets fly the arrow of time.
She is life's longing for itself.
So do not ask what
is in the silent heart of God
but rest there, within the silence
and feel Her heartbeat
in every moment.
Pages
▼
Thursday, 19 July 2012
Tuesday, 17 July 2012
In the heart of life
Another Lectio Divina poem - a reflection on the stanza "On Love" from The Prophet.
If we would be in the heart of Life,
We cannot escape from Love,
neither its pain nor its ecstasy.
The reversals, the uncertainty,
the opening of the heart to the beloved
And the vulnerability.
We must pass through
the refining fire of love
and be remade.
Accompanying music - Soeur Marie Keyrouz, Chant Traditionnel Maronite
Saturday, 14 July 2012
Leaving for Orphalese
Lectio Divina poem for this morning: The opening scene in The Prophet, where he is standing looking out to sea and sees his ship coming to take him back to Orphalese, his home town.
We are all, always, leaving for Orphalese,
The remembered country of the heart.
Looking for home in the faces of strangers,
Dreaming of the dark cypresses and the mellow stone.
We stand at the edge of the fathomless sea
And look towards the West,
Dreaming of the impossible islands of legend.
But we must turn our faces to the land
And the people among whom we walk
And love them for who they are,
Cherishing their inmost flame
That burns with the same ardour
For their own personal Orphalese.
Let us not look for Orphalese on some distant shore
But find it here, now, in our own hearts.
Yvonne Aburrow, 9:30, 14-7-12
We are all, always, leaving for Orphalese,
The remembered country of the heart.
Looking for home in the faces of strangers,
Dreaming of the dark cypresses and the mellow stone.
We stand at the edge of the fathomless sea
And look towards the West,
Dreaming of the impossible islands of legend.
But we must turn our faces to the land
And the people among whom we walk
And love them for who they are,
Cherishing their inmost flame
That burns with the same ardour
For their own personal Orphalese.
Let us not look for Orphalese on some distant shore
But find it here, now, in our own hearts.
Yvonne Aburrow, 9:30, 14-7-12