Friday, June 4, 2010

The Moor



It was like a church to me.
I entered it on soft foot,
Breath held like a cap in the hand.
It was quiet.
What God was there made himself felt,
Not listened to, in clean colours
That brought a moistening of the eye,
In movement of the wind over grass.

There were no prayers said. But stillness
Of the heart's passions -- that was praise
Enough; and the mind's cession
Of its kingdom. I walked on,
Simple and poor, while the air crumbled
And broke on me generously as bread.



R. S. Thomas
art by: roger jardine





3 comments:

Anonymous said...

Thanks for posting this. Thomas is my favorite poet and I am always looking for poems I don't have.

Roger Jardine said...

Thank you for using one of my paintings as part of your work. Perhaps you could mention my website http://rogerjardine.com/Jardine so that others may view it and feel moved to do the same.
Kind regards
Roger Jardine

smilingheart said...

Thanks Roger,

Enjoyed your art very much. I added the link to your site.

Dean