I have decided not to blog during Lent. I remain unconvinced that the conversations generated on the blog add to our understanding or insight, or that the time spent here might not be better spent elsewhere. This is food for thought which requires a period of withdrawal and inner silence away from the ever-intrusive demands of the Web. I leave you all with a poem by R.S. Thomas, and wish you a Lenten period of wisdom, hope and joy. From Wednesday, I shall no longer be posting comments but I shall post an update after Easter.
Tina.
R.S. Thomas - The Coming
A small globe. Look, he said.
The son looked. Far off,
As through water, he saw
A scorched land of fierce
Colour. The light burned
There; crusted buildings
Cast their shadows: a bright
Serpent, a river
Uncoiled itself, radiant
With slime.
On a bare
Hill a bare tree saddened
The Sky. Many people
Held out their thin arms
To it, as though waiting
For a vanished April
To return to its crossed
Boughs. The son watched
Them. Let me go there, he said.
The son looked. Far off,
As through water, he saw
A scorched land of fierce
Colour. The light burned
There; crusted buildings
Cast their shadows: a bright
Serpent, a river
Uncoiled itself, radiant
With slime.
On a bare
Hill a bare tree saddened
The Sky. Many people
Held out their thin arms
To it, as though waiting
For a vanished April
To return to its crossed
Boughs. The son watched
Them. Let me go there, he said.
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