Pic from here
East Coker, 3, 13-28
I said to my soul, be still, and let the dark come upon you
Which shall be the darkness of God. As, in a theatre,
The lights are extinguished, for the scene to be changed
With a hollow rumble of wings, with a movement of darkness on darkness,
And we know that the hills and the trees, the distant panorama
And the bold imposing facade are all being rolled away —
Or as, when an underground train, in the tube, stops too long between stations
And the conversation rises and slowly fades into silence
And you see behind every face the mental emptiness deepen
Leaving only the growing terror of nothing to think about;
Or when, under ether, the mind is conscious but conscious of nothing —
I said to my soul, be still, and wait without hope
For hope would be hope for the wrong thing; wait without love,
For love would be love of the wrong thing; there is yet faith
But the faith and the love and the hope are all in the waiting.
Wait without thought, for you are not ready for thought:
So the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the dancing.
I studied at university. I was young. I was really not good.
I found Eliot, I found this one.
First time I red it I was in a undergroud train.
So beautiful … to make me cry.
I’m trapped in my home, so I cannot share here a better photo…I’m sorry
Anyway, sunset still floods with peace
us and yellow light comes. A breeze breathes.
A joyful blackbird plays near me,
herald of infinite souvenirs
Yes, we live and we’ll live in this world
that forgives and maintains us.
I thank You, my kind Lord, Father Lord,
fill my nothing with deep and strong wish
April, 25th 2020
Maybe only a variation of this one
Sometimes I’m only my shadow, slipping
into dark and strange nights as a ghost
of myself, as a mask hiding me,
hiding my whole myself and my soul
above all in this silenced world
Yet I need higher go, towards sun
I wish slip into air till to be
in the blue so far sky and so fly
higher, faster and free from myself
April, 21st 2020
Judy in a dreaming wood spring, sl, today
Beyond hedge is a garden and further
things I already know and don’t know.
World is changing out there, far away
and we’re caged, a long way from Time
That hedge forces my view here but I
know a lot about shadows of woods,
about hidden things, like two-leaf squill
and wind flowers, pure white just now there
Beyond hedge which is edge to my place
there’s a garden and farther some woods
that I don’t see yet I see and know
how they are when awake from their sleep
A hedge is border to all my world
but there is further gardens and woods
and beyond, towards east and its dawn
where sun rises there is Easter light
April, 4th 2020
Well … it’s Christmas.
Some days ago, my dear friend Kristine shared me a strange song. I thought that I’ll used my frienship for Kristine, what I think about her deepest emotions and wishes, and some words of that song to write my 2019 Christmas wishes. I did so. Thank you Kristine. Be happy like I am. God is born. God came and comes in our so poor flesh!
These are my best wishes for next Holy Christmas.
Now I’ve into my mind and into my ears a sweet and peaceful music: John Sebastian Bach’s Cantata BWV 147 “Jesus meine Freude” (Jesu, joy of man’s desiring).
I’ve into my deep all my darkness and all the night where i was on this Advent.
I wish Jesus be born. I know Jesus is born. I wish His light, His peace, His joy.
I wish all these good things also for all you.
Jesus, I need You
by Judy Barton on Christmas, 2019
When fog hides
any idea of each way
I’m alone into grey, where I stay
There no answer responds to my why
I’m my need, I don’t feed
my pale soul nor my mind.
I’m as hole
where I can’t see my joy.
I’m a homeless old bitch
I’m grass frost under birches
When each Sunday
stops to be the Lord’s day
I’m alone in a night without rest
there’s no one that responds to my why
You are my need, feed
my pale soul and my mind.
You fill my hole
bringing me peace and joy.
Be born and be my home: then I’ll switch
to green grass under birches
December, 20th-24th 2019
A Fritillary like dying leaf
trembles in sun light piercing dark shadow
there, in that clearing among high firs.
Later she flies up back like a thought
From a distance she’s gold dillydallying
that descends and too random vault, twirl
as a life without way, with no path,
almost gust of faint air in main wind
Genova Valley, La Todesca
August, 17th 2019
I look at all that heat from cool shade,
from a cave among green and old ivy.
Outside hot spell insists with cicada
in the merciless, summer day light
In your shadow I live, you are a fresh
shelter from anxiety that takes me
when I work or I go on black roads,
when I see people’s empty pale faces
Last solstice skimmed short time ago
and it’s victory of living on darkness.
I almost forget the time end
even if it comes down: I feel peace
We are in the shadow of a so strong Hand
which governs everything in best way
We are shipwrecked spread in this world
yet we are not alone. We are there
and there is here a Sense
June, 28th 2019
…………………………..AND NOW…. HOLIDAY!!!!!
Mater Ecclesiae Abbey, on St.Giulio Island
A black jackdaw nests twigs
in that hole between stones
built as life and upright pinnacle
between world’s history and the eternal
Sober sisters are peace, joy and calm;
women, nuns and sweet hope
showing that life is possible, nice.
They’re the same holy spirit and song
Jackdaw is black and black is too the cape
of these so many mothers, that are
built as life and upright pinnacles
into history, yet in the eternal
St.Giulio Island, April, 7th 2019
JB, that evening
I look at you so far from this loggia
while lights and colours turn on from windows
beyond the well of night that’s that lake.
A nightfall grips by fear now my world
You are there, in your houses, as usual
common business, and duties and laughs;
someone now prepares dinner or goes back
from his work and he’s welcome again
Yet now there are so powerful shadows
spread all over the world to bring terror
dark like black breath of worse ancient demons.
Make me one of your servants, God, Lord
January, 28th 2019
Today, at my home
The fourth candle lights up and it’s late:
like as usual it’s already here.
When I waited for, it was for wait
and I hid all my face to His light
This last candle I light up today.
It’s a memory of past that promises
future when I’ll can look at your aspect
without shadows and shame in my eyes
The fourth candle now shines while anger
rises everywhere; I shout it
and demand what I don’t. My life is
as a moaning consumed by nothing
There are four candles, they are red scarlet:
they are like lives that burn and both give
light, warm, love and too hope for the Grace.
I kneel down to the Child and His blood
December, 24th 2018