Tag Archives: Denise Levertov

A poem for the fourth Sunday of Advent 2021

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Early. An hour before sunrise. Coffee and poems at the kitchen counter. All the apartment was asleep. I read: “Fyre, erd, air, and watter cleir,/To Him gife loving, most and lest,/That come into so meik maneir;/Et nobis puer natus est.”

I love old things. Ancient verse among my favorite. These lines from William Dunbar’s poem “On the Nativity of Christ”[1] take a bit of reading and rereading to unpack the Scottish and Latin lines. And the poem “Veni, Creator Spiritus”[2] by John Dryden features the lines: “And peace, the fruit of love, bestow;/And, lest our feet should step astray,/Protect, and guide us in the way.”

What poem best fits the fourth Sunday of advent? The angels announced that the promised Messiah had come to bring peace.

Distracted. For many minutes I was distracted by a web site with images of famous paintings[3] of the adoration of the shepherds. Maybe it was an hour of distraction. I was frying eggs and toasting bread while looking at the paintings. William Blake’s illustration of Milton’s work[4] is omitted from the collection. His imagination of a brilliant ball of angels in the sky above shepherds[5] remained with me.

Then there was an explosion of household morning activities and responsibilities.

It was not until after the noon meal that my thoughts returned to this meditation. The fourth Sunday of Advent. Peace. The priest mentioned in the sermon that there is a liturgy of life we all participate in daily. He encouraged us to ditch the device and be present. Presence. That reminded me of the following poem by Denise Levertov.

Making Peace
by Denise Levertov

A voice from the dark called out,
             ‘The poets must give us
imagination of peace, to oust the intense, familiar
imagination of disaster. Peace, not only
the absence of war.’
                                   But peace, like a poem,
is not there ahead of itself,
can’t be imagined before it is made,
can’t be known except
in the words of its making,
grammar of justice,
syntax of mutual aid.
                                       A feeling towards it,
dimly sensing a rhythm, is all we have
until we begin to utter its metaphors,
learning them as we speak.
                                              A line of peace might appear
if we restructured the sentence our lives are making,
revoked its reaffirmation of profit and power,
questioned our needs, allowed
long pauses . . .
                        A cadence of peace might balance its weight
on that different fulcrum; peace, a presence,
an energy field more intense than war,
might pulse then,
stanza by stanza into the world,
each act of living
one of its words, each word
a vibration of light—facets
of the forming crystal.

NOTES:
[1] This is a helpful blog post and video to help appreciate Dunbar’s poem. “On the Nativity of Christ. A poem by William Dunbar” by Celtic Cadences, June 7, 2009. Accessed December 19, 2021. https://celticcadences.wordpress.com/2009/06/07/on-the-nativity-of-christ-a-poem-by-william-dunbar-court-poet-james-4th-iv-scotland/
[2] “Veni Creator Spiritus” by John Dryden. Accessed December 19, 2021. https://www.bartleby.com/337/580.html
[3] “10 Most Famous Adoration of the Shepherds Paintings” by Zuzanna Stanska, December 25, 2017. Accessed December 19, 2021. https://www.dailyartmagazine.com/famous-adoration-of-the-shepherds-paintings/
[4] From John Milton’s poem: “At last surrounds their sight/A globe of circular light,/That with long beams the shame-fac’d Night array’d;/The helmed Cherubim/And sworded Seraphim/Are seen in glittering ranks with wings display’d,…” “On the Morning of Christ’s Nativity” by John Milton. Accessed December 19, 2021. https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/44735/on-the-morning-of-christs-nativity
[5] Illustration 2 to Milton’s “On the Morning of Christ’s Nativity”: The Annunciation to the Shepherds from the Huntington Library, Art Museum, and Botanical Gardens. Accessed December 19, 2021. https://emuseum.huntington.org/objects/64/illustration-2-to-miltons-on-the-morning-of-christs-nativ

A poem for the fourth Sunday of Advent

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To Live in the Mercy of God

Denise Levertov

To lie back under the tallest
oldest trees. How far the stems
rise, rise
before ribs of shelter
open!
To live in the mercy of God. The complete
sentence too adequate, has no give.
Awe, not comfort. Stone, elbows of
stony wood beneath lenient
moss bed.
And awe suddenly
passing beyond itself. Becomes
a form of comfort.
Becomes the steady
air you glide on, arms
stretched like the wings of flying foxes.
To hear the multiple silence
of trees, the rainy
forest depths of their listening.
To float, upheld,
as salt water
would hold you,
once you dared.

To live in the mercy of God.
To feel vibrate the enraptured
waterfall flinging itself
unabating down and down
to clenched fists of rock.
Swiftness of plunge,
hour after year after century,
O or Ah
uninterrupted, voice
many-stranded.
To breathe
spray. The smoke of it.
Arcs
of steelwhite foam, glissades
of fugitive jade barely perceptible. Such passion—
rage or joy?
Thus, not mild, not temperate,
God’s love for the world. Vast
flood of mercy
flung on resistance.

Exploring 12 days of Advent poetry

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Cathedral Square Park & Cathedral of St. John the Evangelist decorated for Christmas

When I saw Christmas decorations and trees begin to populate Milwaukee’s Cathedral Square Park as early as November 1st, I thought, Is it that time of year already? Unbelievable. With this weekend’s snowfall, the Cathedral Square Park’s decorated Christmas trees looks particularly Decemberish.

Screen shot of internet search

Earlier this month I searched online for some Christmas card ideas. Imagine my surprise when the search displayed a block print I created five years ago.

It seems so long ago and so far away. So much has happened in those few short years that it is difficult to catalog. Curiously, I clicked in the Pinterest link. Then I read the original blog post. It is the most visited post on the blog.

For the last few years, I have received modest feedback on a post I published titled “Advent Poems (or the 12 days of Christmas poetry).”[1] The most intriguing comment regarded a poem by W. S. Beattie. I could not locate the poem online. And the mystery of it excited me. Are there really poems people read that are not on the internet? I thought to myself. A lovely thought.

This year, a digital trail lead me to a PDF file posted by the Brentwood United Reformed Church.[2] Here is the poem recommended by a reader with the preface that the poem’s topic regards the misuse of Advent.

Advent Longing
by W.S. Beattie
These are the greedy days.
It used to be
That Advent was a longing fast,
A time to feel our need
in faith and tingling hope
And keen-eyed looking forward.
Now we cannot wait
But day by day and week by week
We celebrate obsessively
Clutching at Christmas.
When at last it comes,
The day itself,
Our glass is empty.
We have held the feast
Already, and the news is stale
Before it ever reaches us.
We cheat ourselves.
Yet – somehow – still we hope
In these spoiled days
That there may be a child.

It is a humble poem with a good reminder.

Another reader suggested the inclusion of T. S. Eliot’s “Journey of the Magi.”[3]

CCCA’s The Advent Project

And yet another reader pointed me in the direction of Biola University’s Center for Christianity, Culture, and the Arts (CCCA) The Advent Project.[4] I truly enjoy CCCA’s Advent project as it includes art, literature, music and video.

I need to revisit my “12 days of Advent” poetry list. Maybe next year it will expand to a “24 Days of Advent” poetry list. For now, please enjoy reading 12 days of Advent poems.

NOTES:
[1] Advent Poems (or 12 days of poetry) https://coffeehousejunkie.net/2012/12/13/2013-advent-poems-or-the-12-days-of-christmas-poetry/
[2] Brentwood United Reformed Church, The Courier, December 2014/January 2015. Accessed December 11, 2017. http://www.brentwood-urc.org.uk/The%20COURIER%20-%20Dec%20January%202015.pdf
[3] The Poetry Archive, T. S. Eliot, “Journey of the Magi,” accessed December 11, 2017. https://www.poetryarchive.org/poem/journey-magi
[4] Biola University, Center for Christianity, Culture, and the Arts (CCCA), The Advent Project, accessed December 11, 2017. http://ccca.biola.edu/advent/2017/#day-dec-7

PODCAST: Poems and readings for the First Sunday of Advent

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Advent

by Donald Hall

When I see the cradle rocking
What is it that I see?
I see a rood on the hilltop
Of Calvary.

When I hear the cattle lowing
What is it that they say?
They say that shadows feasted
At Tenebrae.

When I know that the grave is empty,
Absence eviscerates me,
And I dwell in a cavernous, constant
Horror vacui.[1]

This audio podcast features “Annunciation” by Denise Levertov, “Advent” by Donald Hall, “Into The Darkest Hour” by Madeleine L’Engle[2] and a selection from the Book of Common Prayer.

NOTES:
[1] Source: Poetry Foundation
[2] Advent Poems (or the 12 days of Christmas poetry)

Poetry podcast for the First Sunday of Advent

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Advent

by Donald Hall

When I see the cradle rocking
What is it that I see?
I see a rood on the hilltop
Of Calvary.

When I hear the cattle lowing
What is it that they say?
They say that shadows feasted
At Tenebrae.

When I know that the grave is empty,
Absence eviscerates me,
And I dwell in a cavernous, constant
Horror vacui.[1]

This audio podcast features “Annunciation” by Denise Levertov, “Advent” by Donald Hall, “Into The Darkest Hour” by Madeleine L’Engle[2] and a selection from the Book of Common Prayer.

NOTES:
[1] Source: Poetry Foundation
[2] Advent Poems (or the 12 days of Christmas poetry)

First Sunday of Advent — Poems

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Advent

by Donald Hall

When I see the cradle rocking
What is it that I see?
I see a rood on the hilltop
Of Calvary.

When I hear the cattle lowing
What is it that they say?
They say that shadows feasted
At Tenebrae.

When I know that the grave is empty,
Absence eviscerates me,
And I dwell in a cavernous, constant
Horror vacui.[1]

This audio podcast features “Annunciation” by Denise Levertov, “Advent” by Donald Hall, “Into The Darkest Hour” by Madeleine L’Engle[2] and a selection from the Book of Common Prayer.

NOTES:
[1] Source: Poetry Foundation
[2] Advent Poems (or the 12 days of Christmas poetry)

[Podcast] Advent Poems – special edition – 1

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DEC2014_iTunes_Image

This is a special edition of the Coffeehouse Junkie audio podcast.

A couple years ago I composed a list of twelve Advent poems that has become on of the most read blog posts of Coffeehouse Junkie.

This episode features “Annunciation” by Denise Levertov, “Advent” by Donald Hall, “Into The Darkest Hour” by Madeleine L’Engle and a selection from the Book of Common Prayer.

Advent Poems (or 12 days of poetry)

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“Christmas Night,” a limited edition woodblock print/greeting card

It is so difficult for me to locate well-written Advent poems. A couple years ago I began collecting and posting some of my favorites. The list includes some well known poets as well as some lesser known individuals. As a way to celebrate the season, I offer the 12 days of Advent poetry:

Hope you enjoy the list. Let me know of Advent poems that are not listed here.

‘Annunciation’ by Denise Levertov

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Denise Levertov

 

‘Hail, space for the uncontained God’
From the Agathistos Hymn, Greece, VIc
We know the scene: the room, variously furnished,
almost always a lectern, a book; always
the tall lily.
Arrived on solemn grandeur of great wings,
the angelic ambassador, standing or hovering,
whom she acknowledges, a guest.

But we are told of meek obedience. No one mentions
courage.
The engendering Spirit
did not enter her without consent.
God waited.

She was free
to accept or to refuse, choice
integral to humanness.

____________________________

Aren’t there annunciations
of one sort or another
in most lives?
Some unwillingly
undertake great destinies,
enact them in sullen pride,
uncomprehending.
More often
those moments
when roads of light and storm
open from darkness in a man or woman,
are turned away from
in dread, in a wave of weakness, in despair
and with relief.
Ordinary lives continue.
God does not smite them.
But the gates close, the pathway vanishes.

______________________________

She had been a child who played, ate, slept
like any other child – but unlike others,
wept only for pity, laughed
in joy not triumph.
Compassion and intelligence
fused in her, indivisible.

Called to a destiny more momentous
than any in all of Time,
she did not quail,
only asked
a simple, ‘How can this be?’
and gravely, courteously,
took to heart the angel’s reply,
perceiving instantly
the astounding ministry she was offered:

to bear in her womb
Infinite weight and lightness; to carry
in hidden, finite inwardness,
nine months of Eternity; to contain
in slender vase of being,
the sum of power –
in narrow flesh,
the sum of light.
Then bring to birth,
push out into air, a Man-child
needing, like any other,
milk and love –

but who was God.

(via chriscorrigan.com)