Three days after starting Creideamh.ie I have reach my 1001st post. I have just read an R.S. Thomas poem so good I had to share. I found it at the peerless Per Crucem Ad Lucem (which I think means “through the cross to the light”).

‘To be alive then’, by R.S. Thomas
To be alive then
was to be aware how necessary
prayer was and impossible.

The philosophers had done
their work well, demolishing
proofs we never believed in.

We were drifting in space-
time, in touch with what we had
left and could not return to.

We rehearsed the excuses
for the deficiencies of love’s
kingdom, avoiding our eyebeams.

Beset, as we were,
with science’s signposts, we whimpered
to no purpose that we were lost.

We are here still. What
is survival’s relationship
with meaning? The answer once

was the bone’s music at the lips
of time. We are incinerating
them both now in the mind’s crematorium.

R.S. Thomas, Counterpoint (Newcastle upon Tyne: Bloodaxe Books, 1990), 44.

Your Correspondent, A keeper of the heart’s relics?

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