In Contemplation

Perhaps I miss the idle chatter near the Abbey gate,
or wonder where old freinds have wandered;
so I sit in the shade and muse a bit
about sad news from places near
and far and ever close to heart ...

papa
......................................................................

And with these words of St. Paul:

"to be quiet, serene, and tranquil
... cast ... suffering ... into the sea
…immersed totally in pure love
…penetrated within and without."

there tumbles down such memories,
and pulse of soul and spirit …

"suffer your children unto me!"



"Where are all the tears of yesterday;
Those that flowed from beneath the cross
To start that flood of silent passion
That washed away our ancient fears?"

"by the sea, by the sea -- you and me"

"What if the entire purpose of our existence here is only to be washed in the sea of our birth again and again until our souls are smooth and flawless? What if the grinding sand and crashing waves of our struggles produce a music we are not meant to hear?"

and then …

I think of all those who only relate to suffering in a physical way, and somehow would deify pain -- even deeply contemplative persons who feel that humility can only be found through deliberate physical suffering. Sigh!


Such suffering may be our natural heritage, but being miserable is a matter of choice. In like manner, is not the result of our spiritual suffering also a matter of choice? Cannot we choose joy? Can we not choose to 'be washed clean' in the sea of rebirth and sought innocence? Can we not seek to float upon the caressing waves of divine and human love -- or must we simply tread water, thrash about and cry out endlessly for help?