Category: Thomas Merton
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Love like a river
Even the meek swell with water running down. Come now, spill yourself into our long water. Let it trail you down over gullies, under arched branches in its passive rush. Feel the undercurrent, what draws the flow beyond eyes, buoying each awkward twig, tripping up glossy stones. How I long to know it by heart…
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From the contemplatives
From silence doors open — sometimes far off ringing, sometimes mute throbbing, sometimes rambling voices of ancestors, or strangers tapping at my window wondering, sometimes a tree in its final unleaving. Drawing my ear down, I pick up the thread, hold it just so before it trails away, and listen, listen.
Poems from in between 