Thursday, November 14, 2013

MOORLAND

Moors in North York Moors National Park, North Yorkshire, England

                                                     The Moor
                                                    R.S. Thomas

                                       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 colors
                                       That brought a moistening of the eye,
                                       In movement of the wind over the 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.

13 comments:

  1. It is in that "stillness of the heart's passion" that tells me I am where God can be felt. This is a beautiful poem. The perfect thing to read this evening ... very calming. Thank you.

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    1. Thanks, Teresa. Glad you liked this poem and found it calming, as I did.

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  2. Hi George! I love the "clean colors" of the Moor. Are you settled? Hope all is well.

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    1. Thanks for the note, Barb. I took this photo of the moors of North Yorkshire when I was on my coast-to-coast walk across England three years ago. We moved in our new house last week, but it would be an overstatement to say that we are "settled." Much remains to be done in terms of painting, renovations, and unpacking.

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  3. Drove past RS Thomas' old church the other week (in Aberdaron).

    If Photoshop can do something grey and wet to those moors you'll get an idea of what they look like as I write! :)

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    1. Hi, Dominic! My photo of the moors in North Yorkshire was taken in mid-June three years ago, when I did the C2C.

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  4. Ah, the dour, old R.S. Thomas, who, as no other, described the valleys and their inhabitants, the dirt poor, struggling, benighted, chapel-ridden Welsh peasants and small farmers.

    One thinks of him as mercilessly observant, clinically cold; and yet, delving deep, one recognises the great humanity of the man.

    But Yorkshire he most definitely wasn’t. As anti-English as they come, that was him.

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    1. Thanks for the interesting comment, Friko. I don't know much about Thomas's personal characteristics, but I find myself moved by his sensitivity to the rural landscape and the people who live there. Yes, there is strong criticism in his poetry, but he does not spare himself from human failings.

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  5. Welcome back, George! I've been thinking about you. Hope all goes well with establishing yourselves...

    Friko — Yes, RS Thomas, 'mercilessly observant' yet having 'great humanity'. He's one of my favourite poets, and I'm at one with your insights. What I like most about him, however, is his honest ambivalence about the existence of a hidden God.

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    1. Thanks, Robert. We moved into the new house last week and there is still much to be done in terms of painting, small renovations, unpacking, etc. The most important development is that I now have access to my books, which I have missed sorely for the past three months. Hopefully, I can now turn my mind to things other than housing, and I hope to be more active in my own blogging.

      I've been reading the poetry of R.S. Thomas every morning, just after sunrise, for the past week, and I find myself in sympathy with so much of his superb writing. I'm also moved by the honesty with which he discusses his search for God. Like many of us, he seems to be drawn ineluctably to the idea of an ineffable Presence, while simultaneously having to deal with the felt reality of Absence.

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  6. Oh how beautiful. I have barely read a poem or two of Thomas's. Thank you for the reminder. I appreciate all the commentary here about him.

    This post is a revisiting to thoughts about listening, silence, and how upon entering a room, we can let it "receive" us. It's quite nice to think of God this way, too, and nature.

    Sorry I'd missed this posting a week old already. No longer having google reader, I'm afraid I'm hit or miss at my favorite blogs if they are irregular.

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  7. Thanks, Ruth. Glad you liked this post. Until I started blogging with my English friends, I knew nothing of R.S. Thomas. Since he is well-respected in the U.K., however, and since he deals with so many issues that are close to my heart — the land, its people, simple pleasures, nature, and the perennial questions about the existence and nature of God — I bought a volume of his poems last year (Collected Poems, 1945 — 1990). Last week, I found myself reading the poems every morning with the rising sun and my first cup of coffee. I've enjoyed his work, as well as the record of his struggles with theology (Thomas was both a poet and a priest). Since you like Wendell Berry and his disdain for the dehumanizing impact of technology, I know you will like Thomas.

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