Discalced Carmelite Friars

Province of St. Therese

Poet and Contemplative

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“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

Poems for Holy Week - 2 of 4

At the Cross

Your hands and arms are thrown wide,
For you are trying to stand very still; there’s not much earth
Left to you, and what is burns like a torch.

Smoke curls upward and disappears:
We watch the day end. 
Night droops like a tent; we tie down the flap.

Now we must let our talk expand, let our dreams roam wide,
Then return, stepping forth into the light.  We see
The thought of them called back into being,

Reflected in each other's eyes.
And when the time comes for us to stir and start from sleep,
What was there first dreamt, then it will be.

Written by Fr. Bonaventure Sauer, OCD
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