Seek Your Servant

O Lord, 
Omniscient One.

You who knows what
the internet can't record.

The actions,
                       and defeats
of the eternal war
between the spirit and the bone. 

O One,
who does not forget
His own,
I humbly repeat
your cross-mate's request
"Remember me."

Lenten Thoughts Of A High Anglican

Isn't she lovely, "the Mistress"?
With her wide-apart grey-green eyes,
The droop of her lips and, when she smiles,
Her glance of amused surprise?

How nonchalantly she wears her clothes,
How expensive they are as well!
And the sound of her voice is as soft and deep
As the Christ Church tenor bell.

But why do I call her "the Mistress"
Who know not her way of life?
Because she has more of a cared-for air
Than many a legal wife.

How elegantly she swings along
In the vapoury incense veil;
The angel choir must pause in song
When she kneels at the altar rail.

The parson said that we shouldn't stare
Around when we come to church,
Or the Unknown God we are seeking
May forever elude our search.

But I hope that the preacher will not think
It unorthodox and odd
If I add that I glimpse in "the Mistress"
A hint of the Unknown God. 

John Betjeman

Art is a lie that makes us realize the truth

Everyone wants to understand painting. 

Why don’t they try to 
understand the song of the birds? 

Why do they love a night, a flower, 
everything which surrounds man, 
without attempting to understand them? 

Whereas where painting is concerned, 
they want to understand. 

Let them understand above all 
that the artist works from necessity; 
that he, too, 
is a minute element of the world 
to whom one should ascribe no more importance 
than so many things in nature 
which charm us but which we do not explain to ourselves. 

Those who attempt to explain a picture are on the wrong track 
most of the time.

 Pablo Picasso
Boisgeloup, winter 1934