Good morning, Poetry Friday! Laura Purdie Salas has the Roundup over at Writing the World for Kids. Thank you, Laura!
I may have posted this poem before. I thought I'd share it again in honor of Saint Hildegard as I prepare a virtual party to celebrate her Feast Day on September 17. I wrote it in 2002 after visiting the ruins of Disibodenberg, where she first became a nun. There's a link to the Facebook party below. I'll share Hildegard's poetry and music. There will be prizes! I'd love to see some of you there.
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| Ruins of Disibodenberg, Odernheim, Rheinland-Pfalz |
CLOISTER RUINS
Seeds sprout
in holy space until
beech and
oak arch over toppled stones.
Larks trill in
a hilltop canopy
where psalms
once floated upward,
and leafy
hands now murmur prayers.
The stones,
weighted with
longing
whispered in secret,
sink into
the earth.
Centuries
ago they tumbled, like thunder
rumbling
through the Great Silence.
Ivy anchors
their moss velvet faces.
Rose thorns
ramble over crumbled gables.
Helpless to
shelter, the stones stand sentry,
mute
witnesses to divine desire.
Did you
think wind, rain, the shifting of earth’s crust
conspired to
collapse these hallowed structures?
Know this -
the human heart
beats a
hunger for its creator
more
powerful than natural forces.
Echoes of
supplication saturate each stone.
Ages of
murmured ardor are stronger than gravity.
These stones
are deaf now.
Speak
freely.
© Joyce Ray
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