This poem is referenced in Jo Connelly’s homily of February 24th “Loving Our Enemy?”
Listen
with the night falling we are saying thank you
we are stopping on the bridge to bow from the railings
we are running out of the glass rooms
with our mouths full of food to look at the sky
and say thank you
we are standing by the water looking out
in different directions
For Ian Sowton at 90
Some saints were farmers
like Serenus the gardener who shares your day, dear Ian.
They ploughed the land like billy-o
scattering the seed where fall it will
and harvesting the growth, if any,
in due season, tares and all.
And some moved kings and potentates,
and prelates too, as did bird-preaching Frances,
pushing Sultans, Popes, and a priest or two
to grant his brothers space; their kingdoms peace;
their people just a crêche or two
to see the mystery unfold.
Mary Oliver has been an ongoing inspiration to many of us here at HT. Her readings are often part of our weekly gatherings. Her work has uplifted and challenged us all for so many years.
Mary, you will be missed. May light perpetual shine upon you and all your works forever. 😢
This poem is to honour Matthew Dolmage, who was born April 2, 1974 and who died February 21, 2004.
His mother Marilyn wrote it, and would like to recognize all the ways Matthew’s memory remains among the people and within the sanctuary of The Church of the Holy Trinity.
Matthew heard the birds in Bach.
So the piano trills in the Prelude in E flat minor
Make me smile on a February morning,
Remembering how Matthew loved bird music.
Mary did you know,
that your ancient words
would still leap off our pages?
Mary did you know,
that your spirit song
would echo through the ages?
Did you know that your holy cry
would be subversive word,
that the tyrants would be trembling
when they know your truth is heard? Continue reading Mary, did you know…
