by R. S. Thomas
They came over the snow to the bread’s
purer snow, fumbled it in their huge
hands, put their lips to it
like beasts, stared into the dark chalice
where the wine shone, felt it sharp
on their tongue, shivered as at a sin
remembered, and heard love cry
momentarily in their hearts’ manger.
They rose and went back to their poor
holdings, naked in the bleak light
of December. Their horizon contracted
to the one small, stone-riddled field
with its tree, where the weather was nailing
the appalled body that had asked to be born.
Diolch, thank you. If anyone reading this likes RS Thomas then you might be interested in facebook.com/groups/22240849843 and/or twitter @RSThomaspoet – share RS Thomas poems, quotes, events, info, Q&A etc…
Croeso, you’re welcome. RS Thomas is a poet new to me. It has been quite a delight to discover and read his work. Thanks for the invite to the Facebook group. However, I no longer use Facebook. Thanks for your comment. Much gratitude!
Pingback: Reflections on a decade of sharing Advent poetry and art | Coffeehouse Junkie
Pingback: Advent 4 Wednesday – Pastoral/Theological/Philosophical Reflections on the Journey of Faith and the Liturgical Calendar