It is Christ in us who drives us through darkness
To a light of which we have no conception
And which can only be found
By passing through apparent despair.
Everything has to be tested.
All relationships have to be tried.
All loyalties have to pass through the fire.
Much has to be lost.
Much in us has to be killed,
Even much that is best in us…
–Thomas Merton
It is the season of fruit
in this heart land,
berries hang
from bushes and trees,
apples and pears
arrive at the table,
though some fall
hard to the ground.
Everything has to be tested.
Summer brings warmth
and a razor sharp sun,
whipping winds and hail
on rainy black nights.
How final the test can be,
how terrifying the finality.
She touches her bandaged head,
wonders at the hole there,
the precision of surgery.
The sadness she saw
in her loved ones’ eyes told
her what she needed to know.
Still, the apple pie she made
yesterday lingers in her mind,
balm for the troubles of today
arriving in this too white bed.
She doesn’t believe in tests,
no test from God, only love.
But what is without trial?
Work, children,
the voice inside always
fighting to be heard?
She leans back into blankness,
into arms she never sees,
pushes her pain out ahead of her,
lets the open wound
begin to heal.
Here is the test:
to wait for the light
of which we have no conception,
as the seed lying in the dark
softens in the wet dirt,
opens, spills,
waits silently for a pulse
of life,
or reunion
with the dark hidden
heart.
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Ruth, this is a most beautiful and thoughtful poem as you creatively join with Thomas Merton’s reflection It is deep, and I suspect one I’ll continue to think about … and treasure. Thank you for sharing your work.
This poem captures the essence of a patient’s experience. It has a heart-beat and soul.
we are all patients, wounded and needing healing balm as we await final wellness. thank you for this.
This is an amazing poem in expressing so well the faith in things unseen. It reminds me of a peony root that I thought was dead and I completely covered up. It continued to live in its dark tomb, with no rational expectation of its eventual discovery and liberation. What faith, hope, courage that would have taken. We should have such as that when we cannot see a plan.
As always, Ruth, your poetry will filled with wisdom and rich insight, employing language to flesh out the meaning of experience. I love the precision of distinction between being tested and experiencing trial. The only test as waiting in the gentle darkness upon the final outcome, which either way means life.
Ruth, a friend sent me your poem because I am writing a book on grief and healing through poetry. Its intended audience is grievers, chaplains and spiritual directors. Can I talk to you about possible use of all or part of the poem in the book?
This poem is about so much – so much that matters to me. And it’s also so effectively a mood piece, a mood I relish, the gratitude of knowing how much we’re losing, and even at the same time knowing how quickly we’ll forget to be grateful. Thank you for reminding us in such a beautiful series of images and words.