DREAMING ICE HOUSE SANCTUARY
Scouting snow solstice
Tucked into paradise
20 December 2013
ON RECEIVING THIS DAY: SABBATH POEMS
BY WENDELL BERRY, FROM A FRIEND
—for Lee Bassett
Sunday Morning. Karen leaves early
to ring bells for early service. Sister Sadie Sadie,
The old dog, arthritic, sleeps by the fire at my feet.
The old poet calls himself Lowdown,
In his opening prayer, This Day,
Being about time always coming up short
In time's own world. I begin here, before
Reading the last poem in the book,
Mad Farmer returning to close out the present,
Recalling an early image of Christ in a barn.
From here, he steps out,
And I turn again to his first Sabbath poems
From the mid-70s. The poet sits
Through fears and songs of critters
Among trees, until he hears
His own song. Here is where we met,
And when, my dear friend, decades past,
Setting out for silence, and failing.
The poet Wendell Berry
Gives up two words: Spirit and wild,
Carrying comfort and convention.
We're the ones out of control.
It is the Second Sunday in Advent.
The first reading from Isaiah:
Righteousness shall be the belt around his waist.
December 10, 2013