Lead Kindly Light

Graeme Skinner photography

Lead, Kindly Light,
amid the encircling gloom,
Lead me Thou on!

The night is dark,
and I am far from home,
Lead Thou me on!

Keep Thou my feet;
I do not ask to see the distant scene;
one step is enough for me.

I was not ever thus,
nor pray'd that Thou shouldst lead me on;
I loved to choose and see my path,
but now lead Thou me on!

I loved the garish day,
and, spite of fears,
pride ruled my will:
remember not past years.

So long Your power hath blest me,
sure it still will lead me on,
o'er moor and fen,
o'er crag and torrent, till the night is gone;

and with the morn
those angel faces smile
which I have loved long since,
and lost awhile.

John Henry Newman (1801-1890)

______

At about this time last year, I performed the Howard Goodall setting of this piece. We'd just come through Hurricane Sandy. Today was one of those days where a million things had to get done, and some how by the grace of God, they all got done. One step at a time, one foot in front of the other.

12 Blessures

2 removed too much bone
overgrowth, hardening
calcification extracted
which allowed me to dance

3 removed too much blood
overgrowth, strangling
nests of capillaries excised
which allowed me to walk

6 removed too much guts
overgrowth, poisonous
cancer expelled
which allowed me to thrive

And 1
1 was the portal for 2 heavenly bodies
threshold for sun and moon
a miracle
which allowed me to fly

Wading in

The reeds stand silently
motionless in the heavy night air.
There is no breeze to stir them,
Only a slow cricket chirp
vibrating through the expanse.

The cool still water beckons,
singularly lit by the ever full moon.
It seems a pathway is illuminated
out across the dark, impenetrable waters.
This time I am ready.

I have come to this shore a thousand times
stood under this unblinking moon
felt the pull of the water
the promise of consummation
letting go and being fully embraced, surrounded.

But that would mean giving up control.
So I have waited and turned away,
back to my life, yet always unfulfilled, desiring.
So afraid to even poke a toe in.
I've run or trudged or been dragged from here 999 times.

I have returned as a doe.
Skittish, yet here I am.
I have taken off my shoes and feel the cool mud between my toes
I will not run or leave.
You know, I have nowhere else to go.

And even if I could, my thoughts and heart
always return here. You know they do.
It has always been this way.
You have always been waiting, the only place that is home.
Now, I am ready.

I bless you for your patience.
I praise you for your mercy.
I adore you for your sacrifice.
I thank you for your love.
My words are weak and falter.

I am wading in.

2 poems by W. B. Yeats

Cosmic clouds emitted from the Heart Nebula IC 1805 - near constellation Cassiopeia

He Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven

Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

A Deep Sworn Vow

Others because you did not keep
That deep-sworn vow have been friends of mine;
Yet always when I look death in the face,
When I clamber to the heights of sleep,
Or when I grow excited with wine,
Suddenly I meet your face. 
____________________________

These two poems figure heavily in a song cycle that I am working up for the coming season.
Somehow, I fall in love with them more and more with every practice session.

The first poem is especially important to me at this time of year, just before my studio season starts. I read it to remind myself as a teacher that my students are coming to me with their dreams. I have the responsibility to them to nurture and honor their efforts and help them recognize their own triumphs.

The second poem is because after almost 18 years I reached out and received an answer, one of mutual respect and friendship and that is all I really ever needed...

Blue Moon

Duncan Campbell - South Beaver Creek, OR

Surrounded by their lazy chirp,
these crickets in the cool August evening
await the rise of a solitary traveler.

Reaching into the darkened sky
accustomed to silence for her prayers
eyes gaze aloft for answers only You can give

Dropping low to the open field
crystalline light bathes every blessed cell
slowing breezes, stillness returns, breathing settles

Confronting a fully honest face
her wearied heart senses its wounds bound up
by every silver beam radiating downward.

Remaining here she is at peace.
Her face a grain of sand on the vast beach
yet illuminated by Your willingness to stoop.

That is Your secret, is it not?
We are imperfect reflections of light.
Honesty, vulnerability, humility
She offers You these and her dreams
 for the gift of Your love.

Psalm Concerning the Castle - Denise Levertov

Let me be at the place of the castle.
Let the castle be within me.
Let it rise foursquare from the moat's ring.
Let the moat's waters reflect green plumage of ducks, let the shells of swimming turtles break the surface or be seen through the rippling depths.
Let horsemen be stationed at the rim of it, and a dog, always alert on the brink of sleep.
Let the space under the first storey be dark, let the water lap the stone posts, and vivid green slime glimmer upon them; let a boat be kept there.
Let the caryatids of the second storey be bears upheld on beams that are dragons.
On the parapet of the central room, let there be four archers, looking off to the four horizons.
Within, let the prince be at home, let him sit in deep thought, at peace, all the windows open to the loggias.
Let the young queen sit above, in the cool air, her child in her arms; let her look with joy at the great circle, the pilgrim shadows, the work of the sun and the play of the wind.
Let her walk to and fro. Let the columns uphold the roof, let the storeys uphold the columns, let there be dark space below the lowest floor, let the castle rise foursquare out of the moat, let the moat be a ring and the water deep, let the guardians guard it, let there be wide lands around it, let that country where it stands be within me, let me be where it is.

__________

I sang three masses today for the Feast of the Assumption. That means three times through Psalm 45.
Yesterday I had lunch with one of my oldest and dearest friends. He told me that I seemed different, settled and serene.
I have been working very hard on my inner fortress, and I am very grateful that someone who knows me so well has noticed my progress. 

August

The cicada shell
clings to a day in the past
it's broken lantern
dusty with evening light.

Walking alone toward the house,
my life is a moon
in the frail blue branches
of my veins.


by Ted Kooser 
from Sure Signs