Sunday, 31 January 2010
Friday, 29 January 2010
I n some ways it's a bit morbid to think about death, but as a Christian it is something that has to be faced. As we get older our mortality begins to stare us in the face.
One of my favourite poems is Prospice by Robert Browning. I think it is a superb poem, full of exciting rhythms, meaningful images and a powerful and satisfying finale. I hope you enjoy it.
- EAR death? -- to feel the fog in my throat,
- The mist in my face,
- When the snows begin, and the blasts denote
- I am nearing the place,
- The power of the night, the press of the storm,
- The post of the foe;
- Where he stands, the Arch Fear in a visible form,
- Yet the strong man must go:
- For the journey is done and the summit attained,
- And the barriers fall,
- Though a battle's to fight ere the guerdon be gained,
- The reward of it all.
- I was ever a fighter, so -- one fight more,
- The best and the last!
- I would hate that death bandaged my eyes, and forbore,
- And bade me creep past.
- No! let me taste the whole of it, fare like my peers
- The heroes of old,
- Bear the brunt, in a minute pay glad life's arrears
- Of pain, darkness and cold.
- For sudden the worst turns the best to the brave,
- The black minute's at end,
- And the elements' rage, the fiend-voices that rave,
- Shall dwindle, shall blend,
- Shall change, shall become first a peace out of pain,
- Then a light, then thy breast,
- O thou soul of my soul! I shall clasp thee again,
- And with God be the rest!
Thursday, 28 January 2010
Savonarola's memorial in Florence
The highlights to me when I went to Tuscany was my visit to Florence, probably the art capital of the world, a medieval city gifted with more talent per head of the population than any other city in history, and to see what I could find out about Catherine of Siena.
Tuesday, 26 January 2010
A few days ago we had heavy snowfall in Havering - heavy, at least, for this part of the world. I was out with my camera and a I took a few shots, some of which I have tinkered with in Photoshop. I tried to get an infra-red look in the duplicated monochrome shots. When I looked at the frozen and lifeless soil, especially on my allotment, the question put by Ezekiel came to mind, "Can these bones (soil in my case) live"? When the warmth and the sun of spring arrive it will be like a resurrection.