Words of Life

Pens write on pages torn

From Gideon Bibles in hotel drawers.

Printed type is covered; born

Are freer curves, like fertile spores

That blow across the nighttime air.

Ancient prose and poems past

Provide foundations, concrete cast

For architectures bold and bare.

Fragmentary thoughts are drawn

In words and sketches on each leaf

Until, as with a fresh-cut lawn,

The scent of life refines belief.

Human struggles, failings, flaws

Collect within the flowing ink

And mirror what the prophets think

Of ancient kings and lands and laws.

Past and present join as one

To share the promise and the pain

When every plan has come undone

And unintended scars remain.

Offer up what words will come

From liturgy and light

Of present days, whatever’s right,

And God will build a greater sum.

Somewhere, by a desk lamp, bright

With blessings born of darkest night,

One finds afresh the perfect grace

That grants imperfect faith a place.

 

 

I'm reading a book called The Cloister Walk, written by Kathleen Norris - a poet who has spent long periods of time living in a Benedictine monastic community. In one section, she talks about the Psalms, which are read and recited frequently in that setting. She speaks to the way the Psalms convey the full human experience. The words sometimes convey anger and a desire for vengeance, and personally I've struggled with these and other parts of the Bible with similar themes. However, she sees them as revealing some of the flaws of humanity, and they continue to mirror our own struggles today, even though they were written thousands of years in the past. Perhaps they offer insight into humanity's imperfect prayers and expressions of faith. Whether we recite ancient wisdom, speak our own spontaneous musings, or use some combination of the two, perhaps our imperfect and incomplete words reach God, where they are made whole - more profound, more perfect, beyond words.