Having the GPS turned on as I motor home on 880 actually helps. Not that I do not know the way, but the device continually reminds me that forward progress is being made. I fret less. Not exactly a church, but certainly reality. And sometimes I do remember to pray.
I love the line, "the minds cession of its kingdom". I wonder what it was like to have R.S. Thomas as one's priest.
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 there was made himself felt,
Not listened to, in clean colours
That brought a moistening of the eye,
In a movement of the wind over grass.
I entered it on soft foot,
Breath held like a cap in the hand.
It was quiet.
What God there was made himself felt,
Not listened to, in clean colours
That brought a moistening of the eye,
In a 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.
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.
Source: Collected Poems: R. S. Thomas
Plough
photograph: Half Moon Bay, 2018
May be as close as I get to Wales. Still, it is a place where I can look and be grateful that the highway could take me to such a place.
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