Saturday, April 7, 2012

Sunday Sabbath Poetry: R.S. Thomas (Easter Sunday)

It is a difficult thing to choose the best or most powerful resurrection prayer-poem from R.S. Thomas's corpus. The one below, though, taken from Laboratories of the Spirit, will do the trick.

More importantly: He is risen, friends. It is Sunday morning and he is alive. Praise God for the good news.

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By R.S. Thomas

As I had always known
he would come, unannounced,
remarkable merely for the absence
of clamour. So truth must appear
to the thinker; so, at a stage
of the experiment, the answer
must quietly emerge. I looked
at him, not with the eye
only, but with the whole
of my being, overflowing with
him as a chalice would
with the sea. Yet was he
no more there than before,
his area occupied
by the unhaloed presences.
You could put your hand
in him without consciousness
of his wounds. The gamblers
at the foot of the unnoticed
cross went on with
their dicing; yet the invisible
garment for which they played
was no longer at stake, but worn
by him in this risen existence.

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