Discalced Carmelite Friars

Province of St. Therese

Poet and Contemplative

“From the abundance of his spirit [the poet] pours out secrets and mysteries rather than rational explanation” (Prologue, The Spiritual Canticle).

“In contemplation God teaches the soul very quietly and secretly, without its knowing how, without the sound of words” (Chapter 39, The Spiritual Canticle).

In the spirit of St. John of the Cross, this blog reflects on the contemplative experience and the poetic experience, sometimes separately and distinctly, sometimes in common, as mutually enlightening.

I will also post to this blog, from time to time, my own poetry, with a short interpretive note attached.

~ Fr. Bonaventure Sauer, OCD

THE CITY AND BEYOND ~ Four Poems – Part 1


I.

Nightfall
~Dallas

Somehow, once I'd climbed out of the well
Of late afternoon,
I found it there, set out on a plate,
Still fresh after waiting all this time
For me to arrive.  Yes, evening was offering itself
To me like a blueberry muffin, with its
Purplish inner aura
That leaves a stain on the tongue.

Never would I have asked anything more of you
To prove that you still, that you have always cared,
O my Absent One, whose face I have never seen.

Long ago the village poured down
From the north and overran the plain,
Becoming city.  We live here now engulfed
In the eddies of the long white robes
Of our guardian angels.  Each night yearnings
Arise.  They have no eyes other than those
The mystics call Not Eyes--a soft
Spiritual mist suspended like silence before me

And touching my eyes with tears.  How quickly
The last of the daylight fades.
May the song that keeps the clock moving
Move through me, too, only slower, like grace.

Written by Fr. Bonaventure Sauer, OCD
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