Thursday, May 13, 2010

For All You World Weary Bastards

God's Grandeur





     The world is charged with the grandeur of God.
It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;
It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil
Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod?
Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;
And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;
And wears man's smudge and shares man's smell: the soil
Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.

And for all this, nature is never spent;
There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;
And though the last lights off the black West went
Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs --
Because the Holy Ghost over the bent
World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.

Gerard Manley Hopkins

2 comments:

  1. God, Don, that is beautiful. Sad, and beautiful, and hopeful and glorious all at once.


    God, who "sits enthroned over the circle of the earth" and "holds the soul of every living thing"
    Imagine that coupled with the tenderness of a mother hen hovering with maternal intensity...
    I bow my heart...

    thanks for sharing this.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Here's hoping renewed spirits can transcend aging bodies.

    ReplyDelete