after the writings of Joan Mary Fry
For each and all.
We need silence and stillness.
For each for all,
that atmosphere of waiting souls;
this is not the hush before the storm,
when no twig moves
no leaf dares to stir.
Think of the high noon of summer,
Think of the stillness of snow,
how heat or lightness
everywhere
give that sense of abounding life,
making a quietness of rapture
As mind, as soul,
as even the body grows still,
sinking deeper and deeper into the life of God,
the pettiness, the tangles,
the failures of the outer life
begin to be seen in their true proportions,
and the sense of infilling, uplifting
Divine Redeeming Love
becomes real.
Not quiescence, the soul is alive,
yet so still,
it hardly knows
its own
intensity.
Jan 26, 2013
Jan 26, 2013 at 1:46 AM UTC
after the writings of Joan Mary Fry
For each and all.
We need silence and stillness.
For each for all,
that atmosphere of waiting souls;
this is not the hush before the storm,
when no twig moves
no leaf dares to stir.
Think of the high noon of summer,
Think of the stillness of snow,
how heat or lightness
everywhere
give that sense of abounding life,
making a quietness of rapture
As mind, as soul,
as even the body grows still,
sinking deeper and deeper into the life of God,
the pettiness, the tangles,
the failures of the outer life
begin to be seen in their true proportions,
and the sense of infilling, uplifting
Divine Redeeming Love
becomes real.
Not quiescence, the soul is alive,
yet so still,
it hardly knows
its own
intensity.
This is the third of three texts taken from Quaker writings poetised for my song cycle Improving Silence. Joan Mary Fry was the sister of Roger Fry, the artist and writer.
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