From the place where we are right
Flowers will never grow
In the spring.
The place where we are right
Is hard and trampled
Like a yard.
But doubts and loves
Dig up the world
Like a mole, a plow.
And a whisper will be heard in the place
Where the ruined
House once stood.
Israeli poet Yehuda Amichai
With thanks to Ann.
I usually don't care for non-musical poetry. But I like this. It captures the essence of Anglicanism, if not of Anglicans. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteThe place where we are right
ReplyDeleteis hard and trampled
like a yard.
That is so honest and beautiful.
Marvelous. Thank you. And so true.
ReplyDeleteIt is true.
ReplyDeleteAh, Ann. What beautifully painful honest. Thank you.
ReplyDelete