September 30, 2020

Pic & Poem of the Week: October 30, 2016


Fall Tree in Field

(Click on picture for larger image)

• • •

When in the soul of the serene disciple
With no more Fathers to imitate
Poverty is a success,
It is a small thing to say the roof is gone:
He has not even a house.

Stars, as well as friends,
Are angry with the noble ruin.
Saints depart in several directions.

Be still:
There is no longer any need of comment.
It was a lucky wind
That blew away his halo with his cares,
A lucky sea that drowned his reputation.

Here you will find
Neither a proverb nor a memorandum.
There are no ways,
No methods to admire
Where poverty is no achievement.
His God lives in his emptiness like an affliction.

What choice remains?
Well, to be ordinary is not a choice:
It is the usual freedom
Of men without visions.

by Thomas Merton


  1. Christiane says

    “It was a lucky wind
    That blew away his halo with his cares,
    A lucky sea that drowned his reputation.”

    love this imagery of ‘grace’ 🙂

    • Yes. Grace = “luck” preordained by God: God rigs the system to assure that we come out of it well.

  2. the abandoned car
    disappears from roadside copse
    leaving only weeds

  3. Is the tree dead or only ahead of the autumnal curve? Big cycle or small? Hard to say. Those may be fallen leaves at its base, but its trunk looks ripped from bottom to top, most likely a now forgotten lightening strike, a heavy hit. What is it doing there anyway in the middle of the field? How did it ever survive the first harvest season, and when it got big enough to spot from up on top of the tractor or combine, who made the decision to let it live and why? It doesn’t appear all that old, maybe fifty, sixty years or so, but it looks like an Ash and thus may be living on borrowed time, if not already done. We’re all living on borrowed time, but I share affinity with this lone, scarred tree still strong, still reaching for the sky.