Sunday, June 02, 2013
Here stones speak peace, here prayer has come to rest
Beneath a sky so blue it hurts to see,
Beneath the blazon of the soaring 'planes
These once proud walls have learned humility.
It is the cross holds everything upright:
The passion and persuasion of our prayer,
Roofless unto the everlasting skies,
We only feel the vast compassion there.
Where men once knelt, we kneel our broken hearts,
Learning that broken things have loveliness.
This our glory, now still incomplete,
But God is here and God is glad to bless.
Only the heart remains, the rest is gone
(Cruel Henry only hurried time's decay)
But ah! The bones are very beautiful,
And Love has clothed them softer day by day.
I am no Wordsworth, yet my words have worth
To name the worthiness of wordless prayer,
Our worthlessness made worthy by the Love
That holds us fast forever, even there.