Great poem about waiting.
Moments of great calm,
Kneeling before an altar
Of wood in a stone church
In summer, waiting for the God
To speak; the air a staircase
For silence; the sun’s light
Ringing me, as though I acted
A great rôle. And the audiences
Still; all that close throng
Of spirits waiting, as I,
For the message.
Prompt me, God;
But not yet. When I speak,
Though it be you who speak
Through me, something is lost.
The meaning is in the waiting.
quoted by theologian Paula Gooder today at our clergy retreat. Love the image of the sun, and pretty much everything else about this poem.
Doctor Who tomorrow, great Advent message in the trailer for the Christmas finale.
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