HAUNTED BY THE HOLY GHOST

Intimate Absence

There are legitimate experiences of absence within this ever-present world of God's grace,
but they are forms and modes of love.
Such were the experiences of the prophets of the Old Covenant, of the Son of God on the cross and in the darkness of his descent into hell;
Such are the experiences of all those who, in their several vocations, follow the Son.
These are the redemptive paths of love as it traces the foot-steps of sinners
in order to catch up with them and bring them home.

~ Hans Urs von Balthasar

 

 

photo: Untitled / Wintertales by nikaa

Czeslaw Milosz On Prayer

 

       You ask me how to pray to someone who is not.

All I know is that prayer constructs a velvet bridge

And walking it we are aloft, as on a springboard,

Above landscapes the color of ripe gold

Transformed by a magic stopping of the sun.

That bridge leads to the shore of Reversal

Where everything is just the opposite and the word 'is'

Unveils a meaning we hardly envisioned.

Notice: I say we; there, every one, separately,

Feels compassion for others entangled in the flesh

And knows that if there is no other shore

We will walk that aerial bridge all the same.

 

Art by Noell S. Oszvald

Lady in Green by nikaa

nikaa takes my breath away

The Pearl of the Silence of God

"The man who has known pure joy, if only for a moment… is the only man for whom affliction is something devastating… But, after all, for him it is no punishment; it is God holding his hand and pressing rather hard.

For, if he remains constant, what he will discover buried deep under the sound of his own lamentations is the pearl of the silence of God." 

– Simone Weil,

- Gravity and Grace

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

PHOTO: SILENT INTERIORS by Artiii

And For Bea, the Girl in Red: I have great faith in all things not yet spoken...

 

I have great faith in all things not yet spoken...hints of hope, hidden whispers in the November Wind

 

 

Child in Red 

Rainer Maria Rilke

Child in Red

Sometimes she walks through the village in her
little red dress
all absorbed in restraining herself,
and yet, despite herself, she seems to move
according to the rhythm of her life to come.

She runs a bit, hesitates, stops,
half-turns around...
and, all while dreaming, shakes her head
for or against.

Then she dances a few steps
that she invents and forgets,
no doubt finding out that life
moves on too fast.

It's not so much that she steps out
of the small body enclosing her,
but that all she carries in herself
frolics and ferments.

It's this dress that she'll remember
later in a sweet surrender;
when her whole life is full of risks,
the little red dress will always seem right.

Rainer Maria Rilke

For Hero: Exposed on the cliffs of the heart...Now She knows...

Exposed on the cliffs of the heart. Stoneground
under your hands. Even here, though,
something can bloom; on a silent cliff-edge
an unknowing plant blooms, singing, into the air.
But the one who knows? Ah, he began to know
and is quiet now, exposed on the cliffs of the heart.

Rainer Maria Rilke

On The Nativity Of Christ In The Flesh by St. Ephraim the Syrian

photo by fantartsy JJ

This is the day that gladdened them, the Prophets, Kings, and Priests, for in it were their words fulfilled, and thus were the whole of them indeed performed! For the Virgin this day brought forth Immanuel in Bethlehem. The voice that of old Isaiah spoke, (Isaiah 10:19) today became reality. He was born there who in writing should tell the Gentiles’ number! The Psalm that David once sang, by its fulfillment came today! The word that Micah once spoke, (Micah 5:2) today had come indeed to pass! For there came from Ephratha a Shepherd, and His staff swayed over souls. Lo! From Jacob shone the Star, (Numbers 24:17) and from Israel rose the Head. (Hosea 1:11) The prophecy that Balaam spoke had its interpreting today! Down also came the hidden Light, and from the Body rose His beauty! The light that spoke in Zachary, today shined in Bethlehem!
Risen is the Light of the kingdom, in Ephratha the city of the King. The blessing wherewith Jacob blessed, to its fulfillment came today! That tree likewise, [the tree] of life, brings hope to mortal men! Solomon’s hidden proverb (Proverbs 3:18) had today its explanation! Today was born the Child, and His name was called Wonder! (Isaiah 9:6) For a wonder it is that God as a Babe should show Himself. By the word Worm did the Spirit foreshow Him in parable, because His generation was without marriage. The type that the Holy Ghost figured today its meaning was [explained.] He came up as a root before Him, as a root of parched ground. (Isaiah 53:2) Anything that covertly was said, openly today was done! The King that in Judah was hidden, Tamar stole Him from his thigh; today arose His conquering beauty, which in hidden estate she loved. Ruth at Boaz’ side lay down, because the Medicine of Life hidden in him she perceived. Today was fulfilled her vow, since from her seed arose the Quickener of all.Travail Adam on the woman brought, that from him had come forth. She today her travail ransomed, who to her a Savior bare! To Eve our mother a man gave birth, who himself had had no birth. How much more should Eve’s daughter be believed to have borne a Child without a man! The virgin earth, she bare that Adam that was head over the earth! The Virgin bare today the Adam that was Head over the Heavens. The staff of Aaron, it budded, and the dry wood yielded fruit! Its mystery is cleared up today, for the virgin womb a Child has borne!

 

h/t to Preachers Institute

A Nativity Sermon of St. Issac the Syrian

This Christmas night bestowed peace on the whole world;
So let no one threaten;

This is the night of the Most Gentle One -
Let no one be cruel;

This is the night of the Humble One -
Let no one be proud.

Now is the day of joy -
Let us not revenge;

Now is the day of Good Will -
Let us not be mean.

In this Day of Peace -
Let us not be conquered by anger.

Today the Bountiful impoverished Himself for our sake;
So, rich one, invite the poor to your table.

Today we receive a Gift for which we did not ask;
So let us give alms to those who implore and beg us.

This present Day cast open the heavenly doors to our prayers;
Let us open our door to those who ask our forgiveness.

Today the DIVINE BEING took upon Himself the seal of our humanity,

In order for humanity to be decorated by the Seal of DIVINITY.

photo: The Breath of New Hope

by Paulo John

h/t to Preachers Institute

How To Be a Poet (to remind myself) by Wendell Berry

   How To Be a Poet   

by Wendell Berry

Make a place to sit down.

Sit down. Be quiet.

You must depend upon

affection, reading, knowledge,

skill—more of each

than you have—inspiration,

work, growing older, patience,

for patience joins time

to eternity. Any readers

who like your poems,

doubt their judgment.

ii

 

Breathe with unconditional breath

the unconditioned air.

Shun electric wire.

Communicate slowly. Live

a three-dimensioned life;

stay away from screens.

Stay away from anything

that obscures the place it is in.

There are no unsacred places;

there are only sacred places

and desecrated places.

iii

 

Accept what comes from silence.

Make the best you can of it.

Of the little words that come

out of the silence, like prayers

prayed back to the one who prays,

make a poem that does not disturb

the silence from which it came.

 

PHOTOS:Back to the start by  Gabriela Camerotti 

A Day by nevertorun

Cold Hands by Gabriela Camerotti

by Hanna L.

for better or for worse...

"God is the name by which I designate all things which cross my path violently and recklessly,
all things which alter my plans and intentions, and change the course of my life,
for better or for worse."

Carl Gustav Jung

And wait for me at the end of these my twisting paths, for it is Thee that I love and none other.

At the End of These My Twisting Paths

Lord, thou knowest this heart of mine.
Thou knowest the clashings that at sundry hours rage therein.
Thou knowest my contradictions,
pulled this way and that, I am torn within my breast.
Thou knowest the things that give me life
and the things that wound me unto death,
all that is my joy and all that that is my sorrow Thou knowest,
the strength that is mine,
and the weariness that on certain days is more than I can bear.

Lord, thou knowest my life.
Thou knowest its heights and its depths,
the welling up of loves and the loathings that follow,
fidelity and infidelity,
seasons of flourishing and seasons of crisis,
my brightnesses and my darker moments.

All this, O Lord,
and all that is this life of mine Thou knowest,
thou who searchest the heart and its secret places.

But above all this,
Thou art the Son of Man who one day didst take Thy rest beside the well,
weak Thou wast, and worn, and thirsty,
in the garden held fast in the grip of fear,
and on the tree forsaken.

Come thou, my peace.
Come thou, my sweetness.
Come thou, my consolation.
Come thou my pardon and my love.

Come, rebuild the brokenness within.
Come, redress my fragile shelter.
Come, restore my hope.
Be thou to me one little flame in so vast a night.
And wait for me at the end of these my twisting paths,
for it is Thee that I love and none other.

h/t
From Father Mark at  Vultus Christi

"Didyme wrote this prayer. I took the liberty of translating it from the French. It is every sinner's psalm. The last two lines are extraordinary."

*Didyme/ a Postulant Prémontré in Belgium/his blog (All In French): "La beauté du Seigneur"

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Read from some humbler poet...who still heard in his soul the music of wonderful melodies

photo:mine

The Day is Done

 
THE DAY is done, and the darkness     
  Falls from the wings of Night,     
As a feather is wafted downward     
  From an eagle in his flight.     
 
I see the lights of the village            
  Gleam through the rain and the mist,     
And a feeling of sadness comes o'er me     
  That my soul cannot resist:     
 
A feeling of sadness and longing,     
  That is not akin to pain,     
And resembles sorrow only     
  As the mist resembles the rain.     
 
Come, read to me some poem,     
  Some simple and heartfelt lay,     
That shall soothe this restless feeling,     
  And banish the thoughts of day.     
 
Not from the grand old masters,     
  Not from the bards sublime,     
Whose distant footsteps echo     
  Through the corridors of Time.     
 
For, like strains of martial music,     
  Their mighty thoughts suggest     
Life's endless toil and endeavor;     
  And to-night I long for rest.     
 
Read from some humbler poet,     
  Whose songs gushed from his heart,     
As showers from the clouds of summer,     
  Or tears from the eyelids start;     
 
Who, through long days of labor,     
  And nights devoid of ease,     
Still heard in his soul the music     
  Of wonderful melodies.     
 
Such songs have power to quiet     
  The restless pulse of care,     
And come like the benediction     
  That follows after prayer.     
 
Then read from the treasured volume     
  The poem of thy choice,     
And lend to the rhyme of the poet     
  The beauty of thy voice.     
 
And the night shall be filled with music,     
  And the cares, that infest the day,     
Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs,     
  And as silently steal away.



Henry Wadsworth Longfellow