I did like my line from the previous post, “I-have-just-had-my-soul-cleansed-and-the-sunshine-is-pouring-in,” which describes the positive result of either repentance or having brokeness healed. A similar set of lines I like even better come from a C.S. Lewis poem:
And be alone, hush’d mortal, in the sacred night,
-A meadow whipt flat with the rain, a cup
Emptied and clean, a garment washed and folded up,
Faded in colour, thinned almost to raggedness
This poem is from the book Poems, which collects most of Lewis’ poems. When young Lewis’ great desire was to become an accomplished poet. However, his style was even then somewhat dated and out of fashion, as T.S. Eliot and Ezra Pound were then in vogue. Many of these poems are excellent though. It is true that many are more or less idea poems, and almost didactic or polemnic in nature, but some have some lovely images. And Lewis’ keen insight shines in throughout.
After Prayers, Lie Cold
Arise my body, my small body, we have striven
Enough, and He is merciful; we are forgiven.
Arise small body, puppet-like and pale, and go,
White as the bed-clothes into bed, and cold as snow,
Undress with small, cold fingers and put out the light,
And be alone, hush’d mortal, in the sacred night,
-A meadow whipt flat with the rain, a cup
Emptied and clean, a garment washed and folded up,
Faded in colour, thinned almost to raggedness
By dirt and by the washing of that dirtiness.
Be not too quickly warm again. Lie cold; consent
To weariness’ and pardon’s watery element.
Drink up the bitter water, breathe the chilly death;
Soon enough comes the riot of our blood and breath.
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OK, I can’t resist sharing one more.
The Apologist’s Evening Prayer
From all my lame defeats and oh! much more
From all the victories that I seemed to score;
From cleverness shot forth on Thy behalf
At which, while angels weep, the audience laugh;
From all my proofs of Thy divinity,
Thou, who wouldst give no sign, deliver me.
Thoughts are but coins. Let me not trust instead
Of Thee, their thin-worn image of Thy head.
From all my thoughts, even from my thoughts of Thee,
O thou fair Silence, fall, and set me free.
Lord of the narrow gate and the needle’s eye,
Take from me all my trumpery lest I die.
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See, what I meant about wisdom!
I almost feel I should have prayed this after the discussion we had about abortion after house church at Blueberry Hill. Other times I have absolutely needed to pray it. Thank you, Jack!