Coracle Trust E-Reflections
Lent: The lightest touch
Saturday 16 April 2011
Then my darling's hand reached to open the latch, and my heart stood still. When I rose to open the door, my hands and my fingers dripped with perfume. My heart stood still while he spoke to me. Song of Songs 5: 5-6
Giotto, Raising of Lazarus
Read John 11: 38-44 and return This gorgeous poem describes the beginnings of poetic inspiration - a breeze, a whisper, the body arrested. It then becomes clear that more is imagined, the way of God with the soul. David Whyte invites us to reflect both on those moments of inner silence within our experience and the energy, action, life or impulse that it released within us. As for Lazarus so for us.
The lightest touch
Good poetry begins with the lightest touch, a breeze arriving from nowhere, a whispered healing arrival, a word in your ear, a settling into things, then like a hand in the dark it arrests the whole body, steeling you for revelation. In the silence that follows a great line you can feel Lazarus deep inside even the laziest, most deathly afraid part of you, lift up his hands and walk toward the light. David Whyte, from Everything is waiting for you
Questions
What is the laziest, the most deathly afraid part of you? Will you open that up to the one who loves you body and soul? Andrew Hook