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Meditations in Contrasting Moods- by Leonard Mason

THE LINDSEY PRESS The Lindsey Press, 1-6,Essex Street, London WC 2 @ The Lindsey Press 1967 Distributed in USA and Canada by The Department of Publications, Unitarian Universalist Association 25 Beacon Street, Boston, Mass 02108

Designed by Grenville Needham and Andrea Pugh Set in Monotype Albertus and Joanna Printed in Bath, England, by Lonsdale & Bartholomew Ltd Contents

Foreword 8 Smooth Pebbles Words of Flint 10 Invocation Evocation I I I 2 Affirmations Unbelief I 3 14 Surmises Facts I g I 6 Other People's Sanctuary My Own Place I 7 I 8 The Gathered Church Recess I y 20 Wisdom from the Ages Novelty 2 I 22 Sacrament of Silence The Impiety of Sound 23 24 The Poetry of Living Prosaic Litany 25 2 6 Inheritance Bequest 27 28 The Well is Deep Winds on High 29 30 Whirlwind of Submission Precipice of Protest 3 1 3 2 Simplicity Unspoilt Riotous Complexity 3 3 34 All Saints and All Souls Unsainted Selves 35 3 6 People Commingled The Centred Self 3 7 38 United Nations Our Own Land 39 40 Metropolis Forest 4 I 42 Chalice of Service Hands 43 44 Time Off Vocation 45 46 Landscape Inscape 47 48 Spring Autumn 49 50 Quiet Ecstasy Assimilation of Sorrow 5 I

5 2 ' Silent Tomb And Yet He Lives 53 54 Summer Winter 55 56 Legend in the Skies Neon and Nativity 57 58 Morning Evening 59 The phrases and litanies of public worship tend to consist of words which have become well-rounded and worn. They convey their deepest significance perhaps to those who have become initiated to liturgical moods by many years of faithful worship. As smooth pebbles are a comfort to the touch, so traditional phraseology woos the mind as much by its familiar assonances as by its deposit of wisdom. Meanings are obscured by familiarity.

Many- people- nowadays are no longer nurtured in the faith of the fathers, and it must not be assumed that they can assimilate the traditional nourishment as if it were their natural diet. Worship needs to incorporate a certain roughage, or, to change the metaphor, it needs new chippings of truths recently grasped and a poetry of emotions aroused by present experiences. While such flint-phrases may be rough and angular, they can cut into the uncarved block of religious assumptions. Liberal religious worship in particular is marked by a blending of tradition with novelty. Traditional moods need re-interpretation in order to connect them with modern concern. Equally, the rugged phraseology of contemporary speculation needs to be set in a context of continuing meanings in order to avoid novelty just for the sake of novelty. Hence the antiphonal arrangement of these meditations. Contrasting moods are presented, not in naked opposition, but in mutual balance, to represent the tensions that are characteristic of people open to many dimensions and options of belief. The following collection is the fruit of public worship conducted by me in Unitarian churches over many years during which meditation has gradually replaced more formal prayer. Thoreau once said that he loved a broad margin to his life. I love a broad margin to the page of public worship. I need room for unhurried pause during which the wide world, the flow of time past, the syncopated accents of the present and unpremeditated intimations may break into the smooth order of habitual piety. I hope that congregations may find my marginal meditations useful in their communal worship, for if they evoke V response, each participant can proceed from them in his own way and mount the stairs of his own aspiration. Every man can become his own priest.

At the same time meditation is an intensely- personal activity, and this collection represents the gathering of many quiet hours removed from my professional duties. In ~rivateperusal I hope that the reader may be able to stand awhile .L l. A where I have stood, may see what I have seen and feel what I have felt. Privacy shared in this way gives an added dimension to one's thought and aspiration. Other antiphonies are detectable in the collection. Its foreground is Canadian, its background is English ; its accent is secular, its intent religious ;its predominant phraseology is humanist, its tone an undisclosed theism. The ways of holiness are many ; Man that travels along them Shall one day learn to kneel Each in his brother's sanctuary. Leonard Mason April I 96 6 Montreal Pebbles

Firelight is dancing on the water Pebble-words can chafe away the gaucheries of youth : and the second moon is spread Come over here, my little wolf! like silver scanlines on the lake. The world's a thousand miles away ; Pebbles nudge each other to alertness ; only me and you are here upon the strand, they feel the first lazy caress with the night stock-still. frok the horizontal pulse of light and water. Pebble-words are the abacus beads of common I have heard pebbles lapping up the night, conversation between two whose lives have been worn long time rolling with the rounding earth. smooth with each other's roiling. They are not complaining that they will soon be sand, So long, my love, good night. nor harking back to their glinting fracture when they were high on tumbling hills. Pebble-words are wearing down to sand They are smooth and satisfied. and soon will trickle through the hour-glass. No more talk from lips gone cold,

Prospector and- geologistm .. will gather no tilting gesture from &e mask of death ; gaunt and crystal rocks, only memory of moon and idle water. to prove their value in a pan, Waters of the world have run down or plot their structure by a microscope. and carved lower beaches. Pebbles are for children, matching colours, Pebbles once moonlit are no longer laved, gathering wishes, wealth and wonder. but lie buried beneath grass. Pebbles are for lovers in lieu of jewels, like pearls upon the bosom. Yet firelight is frozen in their secret core and liquid pulse is locked within their grain. Pebble-words can calm the terrors of a child : Lu-la-lay, my little one ; you are lapped and wrapped in warm waves of love. Before the skins of record were unrolled, I break me running words and feet words :

or sun-dried reeds took imprint of their desire, tracks with no trace of hearing- ; men flaked their flint-words horn the rock, sand sifting through toes ; the rock of their own digging. grass like sleep and no more running ; Palaeolithic poets, unrecognized, feet like fingers falling on warm clay carved their songs in air. make marks that shout, Ola ! I make and sing ear-words : I fashion finger-words : thunder-thunder like growling ghosts ; Touchstone, my little mana, make rain go sharp shouts of hurt and happiness ; - - and sun shine on my wrist. brute-beats and hissing water Touch me top of cloud and tip of fire ; make my two ears prick and tingle. Let me twine the hair of Lila. My two ears sleep when ghost-growls sink in heavy night. I browse with brain-words : I hear sleep-sounds, far sounds dream in the dew under slanting tree ; from mouths not moving, intoxicate with brew, the borders burst ; think-sounds from eyes not blinking. counting steps along the lonely trail, I lull my hunger and see an antelope. I chip and chant eye-words : green growing things and red-running ; Words of coming, words of flying ; Make-words, shaping and bringing ; legs and limbs on white water; - blue breathing and diving dark ; I sing and shout black where all things stop. To make a morning ! They turn and run again, sparking. We affirm the unfailing renewal of life. We affirm our loyalty to lovely things, Rising from the earth and reaching for the sun. to quiet places of earth given to us-as home, all liGq creatures shall fulfil theGselves. and to the busy places where our work is done. We affirmthe steady growth human fellowship. To the deep confidences of friends hi^ - of J. Rising from ancient cradles and reaching for the stars, and all tke human sym~athies. man the world over shall seek the ways of understanding. To the subtle achieveken& of art, U We affirm a continuing hope, that out'of every tragedy to the crisp facts of science, I the spirit of man shdl rise to build a fairer korl;. and to thhsolid strength of great character. We affirm the goodness of life Religion spoke in the flame of ancient altars available to all the children of men, and still shines in the candle of our devotion. and realized in human love. It shaped the solemn temples and the soaring spires We celebrate the -joy of life and still we build its sacred spaces. in the splendours of the outward world Its words of inner command are penned on ancient scroll and in the fellowship of friends. and more, are graven in the heart. We will not diminish our devotion We engage- - in the journey of life accepting the demands of labour nor shrink in spirit. and ihe discipline of duty. We affirm the pdwers that made us We revere the mystery of life and the pothncy within. in birth and death, in activity and stillness, Let religion be confidence at the centre of every life and in powers greater than we can comprehend. , and love at the core of our communities. Let its voice be raised in pladness for the glorious light ouf day and for the splendid silent Light. Bold antiphony is the background music of our time. Wiser men, chastened by the tremors of our time, Seeing the dust risen to man; will learn to live in peace and plenty seeing the ungainly foot transformed beyond imagining ; into grace of horse upon a plain ; I believe. seeing the puny weeds of time exalted to the beauty of a rose at dawn ; But when the swelling sun shall reach beyond 1 believe. its present girth, and shall have swallowed up in vapour the glory and the striving of the earth ; An eagle, mighty and imperial, cleaves the sky ; Help thou my unbelief. a tiger keeps his burning watches In subtle forces borrowed from the giant gestures in the forest and the grass ; V unearthly fish plumb the ocean's deeps ; of the universe, flowing into fing& A earth is people& niche and cranny, and into wit of man ; with intense living and valiant dying ; in high intelligence that lets us grasp I believe. enduring truth, and touch the nearby miracle ; I believe. Yet eagle is merciless when swooping to his prey ; the tiger pulls down a gazelle, unmoved But when hands grow cold with no more fashioning ; ; by the liquid pathos in her eyes ; when eyes are closed with no more seeing the rose's beauty will soon pass, when mind ceases to study and to scan, hanging limp, discarded on its stem. and all its gallantry is gathered to the grave, or dismembered by the purifying fire ; Help thou my unbelief. - Help thou my unbelief. Summer and winter will long continue ; blooms will breathe on desert air ; oceans will roll their undying chant. Beyond the dim horizons of civilization Beyond the far horizons of the dawning years was there man or woman will there be man or woman, who saw a swan gliding upon green water, seeing a necklace of unfamiliar stars and because of its pure white arches will want to unthread the jewels of space would not slay it to appease the hunger of the belly? and take one when the earfh is dead ?I Did they take from it instead a newer kind of hunger, Will there be a son of man with forceps delicate hunger for liquid motion and the arch of peace? who will uncoil the helical threads bf life's molecule Was there a hunter knapping busily his flint and spiral them afresh to shape an embryo of form who heard a thousand times the song of stone on stone? fairer than Venus ? Did he listen to the unborn sound of pile-driver. piston and metal press Will there be a sister of mercy to distil a potion from the cup of future alchemy, and wonder the earth itself bid not split ? ;Ly and lave the synapses of brain Was there a bedouin child who dragged his toes through till fear and kischief and the cult of crime sand, are dissolved ? a river child who pressed his thumbs in clay? Did he feel the secret stylus in his blood Who shapes the days we shall not see, their gforious prbmise and their ghoulish threat ? and see the figure and calligraphy Is it fate7beyondour spelling out ? of signs not dreamed? Or the grain and gamut of the universe Whence come the myriad accomplishments of men, which holds untold surprises in its wrap, the mixing and the melting, fusing and fermenting, And throws a single one into the air transformations thrice removed from raw stuff? whenever man is ready to think Did they come from clanging gods who melted into shade and grasp the incredible ? when they had bestowed their cunning ? Or from peculiar men who shunned theshade to wodder in the clarity of day ? Facts

Some facts are as large as the whole earth How many species of ants ? taken in one sweep, How many synthetic hydrocarbons? a man in capsule ca; compass it within an hour or so. Who wants to be a walking encyclopaedia? Some facts are as large as a galaxy, Give us meanings and far-flung purposes ; a smudge on the image of a telescope, things to love and things to die for. yet years of light across, arm to swirling arm. You can keep your facts in a cupboard ; but love and enterprise run out into life Some facts are smaller than thought can penetrate ; for engagement and involvement. neutrino, from the belly of the sun, passes right through interstices of earth But facts, I think, have the last word. to the other side of space ; They are grit and roughage of our diet, yet captured, one hundred trillion of them andVgristto the mill of our minds. scintillate on man's cunning tally. hey are always there to confound the pompous and to court the comical. Phi meson, spending all its life, in two ten-thousandths of one trillionth "The Ground of all is God," he said ; of a second, is scarcely there. "R's mesons." I replied. Can anything so brief be reckoned as a fact? "And what in hell are they?" he asked ; Yet its fills a gap "I'll show you ; come inside." V I in the ioble eight-fold path of the nucleus. The dyno hummed, the cyclo tronned Some say the world of facts is tedious catalogue ; ~ndmade unholy clatter. much calculation and too many zeros He saw the purple blips, and said : beyond remembering. "My God !-and anti-matter !" How many colours to the rainbow? How many planets round the sun? The Gat

We gather again from sundry places. Creative energy moves swiftly through space, Some have cleaved the far spaces of the air. turns the cone of night to glorious morning, Some have crossed the lanes of the sea. tilts the season of the year to ripening. Some have steered a tortuous way Its power has poured upon our planet through the busy roads of the land. till rugged crust, toiling water and seething air Some have troddeh the paths of quietness. have brought life to stem and limb, and uncertain thoughts flashing across the brain of men. We have seen sunshine and storm. We have taken our ease beside still waters. May we be instruments of that power

Our children have played the summer through. and shape the unfinished earth L into playprounds of peace I V We have read the unfamiliar face, and Lomes of heard the foreign tongue, seen the tiered city of other men's affairs An hour is not enough and the good fields of their husbanding. to reach the bounds of creation, nor tell the valiant story of men, Back again. nor mingle with our brethren of the earth. We open our lives to the pressure of our daily work.

May we stay strong to face our tasks, Yet a minute can be too long- large-minded to do them well, to bear ecstasy or grief. large-hearted to try uncovenanted works. Let us learn the timelessness of time Ingathered. while gathered to our sacrament. ~eimeditation lead us to sources of strength. ecess

No day is wasted in which our senses Our ways turn outwards to hills and fields, touih the fabric of the earth, to waters of river and lake and sea, and spirit resonates to its forms to native places enlarged by memory. Let us renew our tattered selves and make them whole again. Let us be free awhile to see the dawn. No special pilgrimage In all our going and coming to some mount of transfiguration ; let there be occasions for pause but find our daylight in a favoured field, when we rehearse ideals that have faded or in a city's morning mist during our busy days. where sleepers have not rubbed their eyes to wakefulness. Pause is prayer if we reclaim eminent moments which have lifted us out of ordinariness : Let us count the stars and mark the ones that fall, a song blowing in the wind, and see a man-made satellite forge a straight course a march to the peak of protest, across the slow revolution of night. a discovery that a human being may be called Thou. Let us bend to the blowing of winds, watch the waters pocked with rain, In the time of your leisure ; go to the mirror of the lakes may days of warmth enfold you, and see two worlds counterpoised. may quiet beauty hold you, Take companions by the fire another's searching find you, and watch smoke rise, another's loving bind you. signal of our aspiration, orn from t

Let us imbibe the wisdom of the ages. We too will pray : What other men have learned, we will learn Unbind our minds, unleash devotion and build into the fibre of our livinp. till it encompass the circle of the earth, till it lift us tb the bowl of heaven On his island, surrounded by wine-dark seas and to the lens of infinity. One man said, All things are water ! Unbind our understandhg that we may give We too will chant : wonder to him whose windows are shuttered. Water of blood and lung and limb, help us to flow to cathedral cloud, A thousand have said, The Good abides to &rrent and to tide. though mountains fall and rivers run dry. Wash us clean that we may give We too will make supplication : a CUD of water to him that is athirst. Stammering word of love's avowal, Unsought Gar of human pity, Another said, All is ever-changing fire, Pierce the darkness, ! in measures kindling and in measures going out That every spark of furtive dream We too will sing : Become a sun for Adam's dawning, Flame of flesh and warmth of moving muscle, And every fleck of weary dust kindle our hearts to the burning sun A world new-making. and to the lava-flow, earth-maker. Turn us to hearth and altar. The ages pass ; but do not pass away. Burn us clean that we may kindle They are woven into the texture of our heritage. lambent life in him whose heart is ashes. We tread a soil which other hands have tilled-; We speak a word which other lips have shaped; A third said, From the Boundless all comes, We turn a page which other thoughts have printed, and to it everything returns ! And etch thereon our own biography. '31. . JO moy A~anapm *s~a8uv~lsan sanIasruay3 Lay3 JOJ :~a8ue~~s ay2 spJeMo:, Su~pulels~apunuzea1 i uns ay3 Japun ~au8u~qlou SJ aJaqL sa3t~dysa~j 03 peaoq~ asoyl Xefl 'paux~lepapa8es luapue m '1e3~rrX3pue paq *SMOA ;rrayJ Jnouoy 03 a~uayvdpue 8u~~eysur y~8uaqs pug pa~-X~~auanoq~ asoyl Xvn *a~lej~nsay3 uodn yleaxq arrroqaM jo aqtlur put T *~arrrqsqdrrromeur uadaap pm ~0x8 Xlrl~q~suodsax.. . ~au pule luado1drrra ysag q,!~asoy, hm

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Each man measures his own time of silence Out of the silence there has come rattle of gunshot and knows the place where he may be folded in and thump of explosion ; quietness. Men stand at arms to defend what they have won and But as we move with others we recognize the common to keep what they fear they might lose. moments when voices are lowered and even the How long? How long before the shattered silence whisper is stilled. turns to human peace? In shrouded woods when the last bird's song lingers Out of the silence there is sometimes nothing but silence ; only as an after-sound in the mind. minds turn in upon themselves to listen to their own Darker still upon a lake when paddles are lifted reverberations. into the canoe lest the drip of water break the spell. If there is still silence, the emptiness becomes unbearable. - Alone at home, wondering- But if there is a gathering of memory, a summoning of about the day to come and the young family asleep resource and a building of the ground for self to grow and friends upon distant j ourneys. upon, then silence is a minister of grace. Moments of undivided attention to the written page, to the tool's application when precision is desired, Some make loud acclaim of their good intentions ; to the baton before a symphony begins. Some take oaths to bind upon their wills ; Some recite the credo of tgeir doubt and &firmation ; Recalling these in silence, Some assault the courts of heaven to plead their cause. may we learn how, like grass, we grow and soften the ground of our living. The silent one assaults no one, not even himself; He allows action to flow unimpeded from the springs Out of the silence there is sometimes a cry of pain of self. and a sound ot death. When they are heard the hard shell of our security I is piercid and fear makes us more human, "Praise him upon the loud cymbals : We know the crackle of forests ablaze, Praise him upon the high sounding cymbals." Tell us of the sound of the sun as the swept-up debris of the universe crashes into its corona. "I will take no delight in your solemn assemblies." Tell us of the super-nova bursting its bonds and Blow, trumpet of salvation ! searing galactic night. Proclaim the holy resurrection ! Tell us of the quasi-stars out on the fringe of things Shake the catacombs and crypts, that flame into incalculable brightness. Split the coffin lids ! Is it the clash of matter annihilating its foe, Rise up and shout, ye bones ! Anti-matter ? Was there a Big Bang at the first minute of creation? Burned, interred, you have been pressed into dust ; And did God find it very good then? You have learned the elements. How could he walk in the cool of the evening Tell, oh tell of the elements, seven or a hundred and seven. with all that megaton m61Ce? The elements rage, they thunder and spout, Worship the Lord in the beauty of holiness? They spin and split. Tell us of the nucleus. Ha ! Life is fickle and bizarre ; An atom they say is silent and colourless, It has rampageous wonder and arching lust, But when its fragments fuse or come asunder it is full of shocking surprises and curious people. The very air blossoms red and the thunder is louder than ten thousand cataracts. Let jugglers and clowns cartwheel down the pew-tops of yoGcomfortable churches ! You who have been merged in fire, et elephants caparisoned in bells sway through Tell us of the noise of fire. your Gothic naves. "I hate your solemn assemblies." Come, let us leave behind the prose of our living : It is already laughing before the tears are dry leave the close routine of coming and going And already weeping while the merriment still ripples. by familiar ways, It begins without fanfare ; the work of calculation, the fractions and the But when it ends there is little more to be said. endless points, Poetry is life's making and a good life is a poem the blue-prints of security and the tomes of well-turned. heavy regulation. You need not clash the cymbal loud Let us be immersed in the poetry of living : Nor blow the fluted horn ; poetry which captures f6r us the hinge;and the Just scoop a spindrift off the sea fringes of the universe, ~hehheis born. whGh lifts expectation to the whirl and curl of time's unravelling You need not pipe : Come back again and sings to us of thk dowry and the dirge, My fledgling son ! of man and woman ~uststand and watch, and grip your heart as they flow together and fall apart. Till he is gone. Poetry is life's making, love's waking, You need no diapason play Limb's playing, heart's praying. When he is wed ; It comes like a tremor in the head, Just draw the curtain, modestly, Like a joke not seen while the story was being told. Around his bed. It comes like a bubble in a fumarole, You need not chant the shepherd's psalm, From the sulphur mud. - Nor roll the muted drum ; Its words are there before the meaning. Just watch the sunlight on the wave Its meaning is there nevertheless, playing hide-and-seek. When death has come. Let us turn aside from the erratic flight of poetry : Every day light comes and we waken to work or leisure. from the dactyl and the anapaest, Every day hunger comes, but earth and human toil and from the free loose limbs of symbol. provide for our wants. Every day the measures of time are laid out and we fill Living is not looping-the-loop all the time ; It is walking with determined tread and firm purpose. them with achievement or mar them with failure. Every day comes with challenge to our fidelity, appeal Let us turn to platitude and truths well-tested, to our honour and demand to our strength. to adage and maxim and the sonorous beat of undramatic tale. Find dedication and dignity in the self, for on him who has found com~osureI others mav1 relv.1 Adam begat his sons only when the garden of bliss Find strength among mature comrades, for a rope of many was barred. strands is stronger than a single thread. Outside the rapture of innocence and the rupture of Build strength into the affairs of men, for where work temptation Adam dug and Eve span. is honest and skilled a multitude may thrive. Put charity at the core of community, for when the house For every mountain that lifts its head above the clouds, shatters a corps of builders will be there. there are leagues of plain lying patient underneath the sky. Spin wisdom into the cords of learning, for sound sense - For every cascade that whitens water and turns sunlight will banish the spectre of fear. into rainbow, there are meandering miles of sluggish river. For every jackal-pool of water and circle shade of palm, When days of rapture have withered, there are shimmering miles of sand on every side. we still have unsanctified weeks in which to live. For every masque and festa there are a hundred days of By constancy in our work, shovel and saw, of scribbling pen and stenograph. By generosity in our friendship, For every minute of food well-tasted and wine-sipped, By reverence for the least of those whom we encounter, there are hours of buying and bargaining, paring and Let us walk in the ways of auietness.1 cooking ; the grape is a long time maturing on the bough and longer in the cellar. Wide waters have called man's spirit By mines and fires we have forged the metals of to the farthest rim ; civilization and tempered the steel of progress. Our fathers founded cities where the harbours lay ; By secrets of nature and of science we have illumined Beside the rivers of earth they built our darkness and lightened our labour. their homes and settlements. By medicine of herb and formula, by the healing of cell and the nourishment of blood, we have been From the forests of earth patient to still the pain and mend the broken body. they fashioned ship and wheel, paddle and sled, By assembly of men in court and parliament, and moved across the bosom of the land by industry and commerce, we have built community and ~lounhedthe waters. and bound it by contract and by law. Thev tbok Gthe limbs of trees and learned td navigate the dark spaces of the sky. Teach us how to temper the steel of failing character. how to melt the ores of hatred, In quiet places and beside still waters how to fuse the sundered elements of society, thyfGund rest ; how to bridge the faults of division, And there we shall lie at the end. how to heal the wounds of prejudice. 0 spirit that moves the flesh of men, Lead us further still : our going out, our coming in, less By rivers of quietness in the mind ; and our stillness. By hills of aspiration in the soul ; 0 spirit of transforming power And by valleys of decision in the will. Lead us yet to the unmastered, That earth may yield a finer harvest and a fairer man. To you, my sons, I leave the earth. Feel the grip of agglomerate rock I cannot &e you pick and parcel of it. And silk serenity of sea-wet ~ebble. My patrimony knows no moities, Let warm gain; of sand trick through No dividing by degree, or minute, or second. The hour-glass of your fingers. I will be magnanimous and bequeath to you Feel the roughness of unplaned timber The whole. Yield its golden grain to your dusty hands. Already I have given you eyes.' I have given you mind Pick your own possession of land or sea or sky. To maEe the 'codicils of eye and limb and hand Fill your gaze with morning's curtain, Into a rich bequest. with noon's high enterprise, Go ;possess the earth twice over ; And with the purple stains of night. once in wide surveying And once in wise remembering. I have given you limbs. Pace o;t your parcel starting from the Pole. I have given you family. Tread out your claim in ice and snow. Have faith that all are kin under the broad skies TODthe sdmmits of your chosen peaks with cairns. of earth. .L J Stake out your bounty in acres ofsweet grass. Honour the company of those who nurture the bequest March your measures across immeasurable sands. of beauty. Hold conversation with those who make the languages I have given you hands. of men a legacy of life. Hold your inheritance with tender grasp ; Invest your giin the bonds of brotherhood. Do not bury it in cold and careful vaults in Away fromthe touch of you. e Well is Deep

Living water runs in the veins and cells of man; Divination has given way to precise soundings it brings nourishment to muscle right into the turbulent nucleus of things and carries fluid signal to nerve ; where motion sprints and leaps it washes the brain with charged perception. across orbits of incongruity. Man is athirst for the waters of the earth, Nevertheless, give me to drink ! but cannot smell the spring from afar ; he follows well-worn pathi of knowing beasts Sir, you have nothing to draw with. and treads the tracks of human divination. I have a spoon ; it takes but little to satisfy me. Wells that were dug by ancient man are ancient still, I can drink with my eyes and see the mote and beam. I can drink with my brain and think my way to the stars. their waters often stale or choked ; new man longs for fresh strikes I can read the saga of matter's mystery which bubble up from deeper sources. and man's prospecting in the dark. I taste and see the images of my own thinking Give me to drink ! and enter into another's thirst through the portals of his eyes. It was easy to drink when rope was short I draw with delicacy from the living waters and windlass a simple drum ; and find them fresh as mountain springs, but now the well is deep. sweet as dawnlight. Man is athirst for knowledge- and dips into infinity. Sir, give me to drink of this living water. A billion years are not enough to plumb the depth of it. So I kissed her and both of us found a newer thirst. Prostrate he lay upon the ground, But a bird wheeled and caught the light. his forehead to the dust ; There were two who shared-the infinite. until the King said, Stand ! for I also am a man. He drove his wanon to a scarz, of rock and through a>left saw pea'ks remote Trembling he heard the wind in the tree-tops and ice-falls inaccessible. and feared that it might say, But when he heard the chatter of a stream From the north come chariots against you. chiding the low boulders of its bed, But the wind rode high he knew there was a way. and spring was in its breath. He rode his capsule through the changeless- day The cone of the mountain was red and through the unfamiliar night, and its throat muttered smoky threats. until his $anetRgoal loomed large He stood and waited for the world to end, and filled the circle of his sight. but when the blast came and split the air, Come back ! the telemeter spat, he found the world was just beginning. your mission is accomplished. He knew that he would leap again. He stood a mite beneath the stars, and could not count their number, The greatest leap is not by rocket thrust, because his integers ran out. or by missile untenanted by man. But one star fell and withered He leaps the galaxies by spectrum band - in a spear of light ; and radio telescope. he knew his task of reckoning He has not touched the limits yet. was eased by one. .- It is high; I cannot attain unto it ! He watched a single wisp of cloud evaporate Yet not too high to listen against a desert sky till there was only blue and to cogitate. and he was drowning in it. Who speaks from the whirling wind ? It was a pity that Job quashed his plea Devils of fury tearing the seams apart. and retracted his controversy. They tell me horses are tossed, cart and all, Vile, he abhorred himself and repented .L high into the fountains of tumult. in dust and ashes. He cursed not God, but mute, Who speaks from the whirling wind ? became example of obedience. The stdl voice.

They tell me it is pianissimo soft Men still cower before the whirling- wind

and-liftsbabies from their -prams, which cuts a swath of splinters delicately delivering them across brown plains. unharmed a mile away. Theycower now from caution, not from holy dread, until the twister has subsided to a sob. Who speaks from the whirling wind ? The Almighty. Backroom boys are listening-in He flung his question at the head of ~ob, to the primal bounce of creation. "where-wast thou when I laid the foundations ?" They measure the diameter of galaxies -expecting the answer, Nowhere. greater than Pleiades. ~1;~balance soaring craft on updrawn therrnals Job did not shout with the sons of the morning arid mount the flying flanks of many horse-power. when creation flooded through chaos. Job could not bind the cluster of the Pleiades, Why re~entwhen there are worlds to conauer nor loose the bands of Orion. of knowledge and free fall ? Job could not put together the living fl&k of a stallion. Neither can a whirlwind. They said the human race was perishing "But before thou strike the links fast, before it had even explored its own potential. I with thee will strike a barpain. But in the time of Titans, Prometheus came I will tell thee of rebelliouisons with fire stolen from the chariot of the sun. Who live in the far shadows of darkness, He gave the glowing gift to mortals Who wait to tear thy brightness from the sky who learned its mystery Till Apollo's realm becoke as dark to melt and to amalgamate. As thi chambers of hell. Prometheus was pinned upon a precipice I( Only let me go to roam the pastures of men where vultures might gouge his liver. Instead of being impaled upon this precipice. But at the fixing of the chains he cursed Let me tread the paths of sheltering trees and cursed again the jealous Zeus, Instead of withering in the noonday glare. and would not still the controversy. Let me smell the pungent fires I have bequeathed "Proud master of the thunderbolt, Instead of this carrion stench of blood. Strike ! and do thy worst. "I yield thee place in the towering sky : Though thou lay on me the stoutest chains Yield thou me room in the crucibles of earth." Which bind the stars together and prevent them From spilling into the dark whirlpool ; Out of the heart of valiant protest Though thou gather all the wings of night Prometheus countered the thunderbolt of Zeus. And shape them into monstrous bird Vultures evaporated into the dark hills, To plough in my vitals ; The chains fell down and slid like an avalanche I will not yield thee sovrantv to the murderous clefts below. 1 Over the iains of mortal men. Prometheus unbound bore the pain of release I have given them fire ! and carried his scars to oblivion. *iapuoMalqM ay$ d~ysro~OJ SpUt)S ay aIIyM UaAa SJEUI OyMUPUI S! 31 =~q8!1paoe2ja;I y JIM Ie~s~~~q3ea drl X~uomq *snJo1aql U! ~a~aj ay3 sassjm aH 'UMOJ~)J aqvq IOU [[!M uns ~~~Xydo~o~y;,pue pnopjo 8u~~zu.1ay1 sywq put *qsa~paJnB P a~n3ro -W' 'Xpa8 3~MOUUTM Xluo inq 'a3t?~mSSJ! Umrl:, IOU [IlM PUFM aa8ae~-[anal U! uayolqun saq JO {ljyp 8u~-[m:,ur papd spy ~ous

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Look at the river flowing past your feet, Look at the first blade of wheat, But think of crazier floods : But think of prodigious growths : Columbia, Fraser, Colorado, Dinosaur, drosophila, plankton, polyp. of deeper draughts : ~ifeis that. Ganges, Yangtse, Amazon. Listen to the infant's first syllable, Earth is that. But think of multi-patterned music : Look at your familiar hill, Fugue, oratorio, mass, symphony. But think of the highest : Man is that. Rockies, Andes, ~irnala~a. Hark the schoolboy counting up to thirteen, Earth is that. But think of calculus and formula : Look at your green valley, Em cee squared, root of minus one. But think of the greatest clefts : Man is that. Grand Canyon, ~ellowGorge, Great Rift. Mark the stammer on a nervous lip, Earth is that. But think of the unexpressed : Look at fireworks on the day of your feast, Equations not yet solved, poems waiting. But think of Nature's pyrotechnics : Man is that. Vesuvius, Stromboli, Pelee, Krakatoa. Mop up the trivial spill of milk, Earth is that. Chink of many wasted lives :

Look at your child's sandpit in the garden,- Idiots in the twilight cells, But t&nk of the arid wastes : Soldiers underneath the poppies. Sahara, Gobi, Kalahari, Valley of Salt. Man too is that. Earth is that. All things interlock and shape each other. aints and AI1

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Let us remember that great men hallow a whole people Martyrs of experiment who tested on themselves and lift up all who l'lve in their time. the serum of inoculation Let us be that lesser men can grasp the greatness and forced their living cells and give honour where the merit is sure. to the limits of endurance. They still endure in the sinews 0 wealth of living and mystery of dying ! and in the consciences of living men. All who have died have left their memorial with the living. We give thanks for all who bear the mark While we live, let us cherish every deed of martyred time in their living works. whereby one has lifted the burden of another. For all who heal the human body and the mind. Pay tribute to outstanding men and women For those who search the pathways of flesh &h0 have expanded thehorizons of human knowledge and nerve, of bone and blood, to make us whole. and deepened the springs of human compassion. For those who have uncovered the delusions, Share silence with the common folk fantasies and fears in the minds of men. who have broken bread in gratitude For those who, with gentle touch and gentler word, for others' more strenuous hands have shown sympathy with pain. and more fertile brains. We give thanks for all people who serve us Be contrite in the presence of martyrdom. with their daily occupations. Martyrs of religion at the stake, Those who work in fiefd and prairie, Martyrs of politics in camps of concentration, Engineers who make our modern world, Martyrs of race in gas-ovens of insanity, ~liwhofulfil their civic duty with honesty. ~artyrsof exploration in frozen seas, in searing deserts and mountain passes, All Saints and All Souls are legion, Martyrs of knowledge whose wisdom was derided and countless are their ministries. and whose books were burnt, Unsainte

We pray for all sorts and conditions of men, Fly the flock ! Climb the corrie ! thit they may meet the challenges of their day Surge to the summit ! with resolution and despatch. Let a right spirit be renewed ! Those who are timid lest the skies fall and the nucleus of the elements erupts, How long shall we struggle to surmount let their timidity turn to courage our unsainted selves ? and their insignificance to gathered protest. Shall life be sweating all the way? Those who have fallen prey to indolence No alp for pasturing? No cirque for camping down? because purpose has drained out of their lives, Time for that when pace begins to slacken. let them recall how once they carried children But even then . . . on their backs across deep water. To those who have found the mellow tranquility of years, There are still children waiting on the other side. let there come a turning back to people of impatience Those whose words are full of complaint that they might teach them of their serenity. because their will has been frustrated, To those who are glad and strong because they have found let them look and listen to the trees the measure of their accomplishment, which swing back to their stations let there come occasions for the sharing of their strength when the gusts have passed. to those who falter, and a giving of gladness to those who haunt the valley. We are not the lordly ones. But neither are we like sheep gone astray. Let religion be to us a renewing challenge Cry not for the crook of comfort calling us to carry confidence nor for the pens of safety, to unsainted selves, which are but instruments and places Prepared for the fleecing. e Comm

Here let no man be a stranger ! Faster than the shadow of the sun Let him accept himself with dignity men move to their rendezvous, and others-will accept him in gratitude. Voices in many tongues carry across wave-bands of space, If he -see an unfamiliar face, unaccustomed eyes or skin, and we know upon the moment their joy or tragedy. or hear a strange accent, Let him know that beneath all difference Precision tools of brotherhood have been forged. there is manhood, womanhood, the same in all places. Who is the brother who will wield them? Let him know that there is one journey He who breaks the shell of narrow loyalty upon which we are all engaged. And finds the yolk of human promise. ' The peoples of the earth increase their numbers This be a litany of brotherhood. aLd sdread into each others' places. East of me are brothers, though they march to the song - - ~nventibnsof men shuttle peoile back and forth ; of a revolutionary poet. the earth is ribbed with fines of freight. West of me are brothers, though they pile their stock Men of islands in the sea find the solid heartland of lethal weaDons and deter with overkill. of continents and ride congealed waves of rock. North of me are brothers, though clad in furs and sharing their wives with travellers. Men of jungle villages see great and towering- cities and return to bid their people grow. South of me are brothers, though they leap Peoples of the sun ride its energy from junta to junta. and land upon a clearing in the snow. I am brother. Men from eastern houses of meditation I try to contain multitudes carry the whirlflow of their thought Within my house of reconciliation. into-the restless surge of western wizardry. The Centre

Guitar-sadness haunts the streets of new men. When asked of God, Buddha maintained a noble silence. In the morning of their lives When asked of Soul, he folded his arms. It is always evening, eve of destruction. When asked of the great peace to sweeten the salt, Their songs are blowing in the wind. He said : not until every blade of grass has found Enlightenment. When dying wind blows through their strings And darker night turns them to solitude and home, Let each man plumb himself; the deepest need The dirge they hear is that God is dead ; is where the closest knowledge is, He has died without fulfilling the promise. at the centre of your thought and the core of your pain. p Find that, and you find the inner consciousness of all. Neither by lightning from East to West, Nor by trumpet blast and earth shake, Centre down and reach the single point ; Has newly-minted Eden from a godly press Be lamps unto yourselves, clean-flamed. Come to pacify the pain of man. Having touched the awakening of one, You touch a multitude, and in yourself Myth lies prostrate in the land, Mankind of many faces dwells. Its requiem is blowing in the wind. It blows through me and stirs a furtive phantom. You know the pathos of a paddy field, The raucous teiror of an aiphal; jungle, Where before have I heard the fractured sound The phosphor-scars of delta battle, - of universal sadness ? The ghetto of impotence. From the footfall of Buddha ! No need to march to embassies ; They built stupas over his footprints yourself an ambassador of man. And halted the erosion of his eight-fold path. Winds flutter the lonely prayer flags of the passes, And remote bells sound their paradox. United Nations

Men of old said : It comes with food and commerce, with education The Lord created every race of man of one stock and shared skills, to inherit the face of the earth. With resources flowing freely on the open tide. We are all his offspring. The differences which divide are obvious. Men today declare : All human beings are born free and equal One is black and one is white ; One is rich in this world's goods and one is bent in dignity and rights. All are entitled to those rights without distinction to the earth to scratch a livelihood ; One is bulging with knowledge and one cannot read as to race, colour, sex, language, or rel.igion. a single line ; Let no man cringe and cower before a mighty assailant, One is sovereign in his holdings and one is held and none draw a cloak about him fearing the defiling in servitude to state or money-changers. - - shadow of a passer-by. Let every man Lelp to &in each other's freedom in the But floods of change surge round the world. Each race despised and each nation of poverty, world. Let every movement flourish which calls a cease-fire Each area of ignorance and each state of slavery, and ~rovidesthe courts of compromise. Has arisen in our time to demand the human rights. Let a riviving mood of optirnism;eplace the years of Guns and speeches may hold back the flood ; mistrust, and nations negotiate through mutual respect but the dam will break. rather than by the brandishing of strength. Let United Nations speak for the rising tide ; Let United Nations move beyond the forum of debate Let it assemble in a new spirit, gird the will to the market-place of help. against disaster and find channels A .I a1 1 Peace comes not with pious visions alone, for the streams ot human hope. nor with discussion in instant translation ; Our

In quiet churches of the land men have unfurled Its plains were bedded silently in seac their nation's flags, &re the plough was forged. to honour the valiant story of their folk. Its mountains shouldered to the snow They have chanted victory, mourned defeat before the creaking wagon passed. and grieved for the dead. We have a treasure which we must not boast, Their land was purchased at a price and drooping since it was borrowed from the hand of time. standards crimson the white flesh of crucifixion Nor must we claim a privilege witheld from other lands. at the lance-point of worship. The same granite girds them. Cleanse the chancel, strip it bare, The same waters are their solace. and start afresh with &nbols of the future. The same soils yield crop and settlement. Blue be its vault like the open sky of peace ; Their hills rise and fall by the subtle motion let an uncarved block stand for an altar of hope, of a common earth. that each may see therein fairer forms of sculpture I love my land, not because it is mine, moulded from his own dreams. nor by ancestors possessed. Our own land is precious still I love my land because it gives itself to me and fit for sacrament. in sunshine and in snow, But let us bring to our holy place in a thousand moods and weathers. the pasture not the pomp, It does not ask the colour of my creed the thriving not the threat, nor accent of my lip. of our land. It is large to take the overflow of other'scrowds and of their tragedies. Its rocks are a granite shield spilt out before a nation was. We bring a simple tapestry to our country's shrine, Its waters carved their grooves into the gulf and bid the cunning loom weave on it before the galleon proudly anchored hre. the heraldry of earth and banners of the sky ; that everyman may look his fill and know he is not alien. In the midst of the modern city let there be But when their solid sameness palls a place for quietness, and men begin to mould their urban dreams a sanctuary for meditation, in curvilinear form, a shrine for sincerity. They turn to spiral-flow and concave frontispiece, 4. td undulatiig roof, paraboloid. At the centre of each busy life let there be They seek sereGty in iymbols of growth and flight, a pause for recollection, not a four-square tomb of death. a point for beginning, a iadius of authentic will. The dream takes substance, larger than life. But before the dream has turned to steel, City towers rise clean and straight ~tselfmust find serenity. to catch the light of westering sun. Citadels cluster in commerce and dwarf Withdraw into the citadel of the mind both merchant and his merchandise. And contemplate for good The flow of wheeling people is turbulent, The form and fibre oflife. its noise stammers and stutters, flaying the nerves. We are not giants, ~utpeople of medium stature. The purposes of the city are obscure, expressing old longings in new flesh. Measure the city against our hopes and fears. Make its ways safe for young and old, May there be giants in the land again ! Its mood a comfort to the lonely, And giants grew, all body and no limbs ; Its pleasures a sidewalk of urbanity. high, slab-sided, clean, rectangular.

Petrified functions of slide-rule and plumb-line,- defiant against a frosty sky and unsubdued by cloud. orest

Voices of the forest are quickly told : I heard the muted bourdon of the forest : barely audible voices in a vast silence, some men come to be alone, . unloiated sounds of leaf and branch, some come to cut and haul away, root and underbrush ; some come to hide and some to hunt, gale-noise drowning thought, some to carve a name and make furtive love, fire-noise thundering like stampede. some to play Tarzan, some came tortured and hanged themselves, Add human sounds : some were mercilessly strung from the hanging-tree, ring of axe and buzz of saw, some came to die with falling leaves for funeral. thcmp as trees are felled, nrum'ble of powerful machines, Trees of the forest have welcomed all without blame, without judgement. They have seen everything before And the sound of primal silence. andmarenot buffeted. We pitched our tent beside a giant redwood. When you come down aisles of soft tread It was an open glade, but the eaves of the forest and fed the ~othicarchitecture of the world, were near enough to be magnetic. do not bow Gr genuflect. Great trees attract silence as a magnet iron filings. Stand and know yourself and a thousand other selves Our tent was in the field of their silence, who have come and left their thoughts among the leaves. so ~rofoundI could not sleep for it. I Know the count of time, the bole-rings of the years. There was a faint moon and Aany stars. Know ages spanned by living arms that reach for light. Often these have been companions of my vigil, Let present pass while leaves sink silently. but their influence was remote. All your years are folding in your loam It was the dark phalanx of the trees where other feet will softly tread. that gave the n&ht its substance and brought two thousand years about my ears. Our lesser lights are fragments of the distant sun. Let meditation be still We lipht them not in feeble imitation, as a flame in a windless place. for if across our little flame a single sunbeam falls, - Flame curls from the chalice cup it turns it into shadow. like a gesture of prayer, We light our chalice to illumine our debt until prayer turns into service and to kindle our desire. sent from hands of sympathy to fill the emptiness of other hands. Desire for the flower of sweet passion ; desire for the flame of forgotten love ; Our lesser lights can easily be quenched desire for bright space and orbit round the sun ; by boisterous wind or heavy hand. desire for life's burning andeits rest. But none can extinguish the flame of service which runs from a man to his neighbour. See the cup with curling flame. Another cup is lit from the poff&d light. Air bathes-it and bendsits light, and shapes it like a petal on a stem. Light the common lamps Air is consumed in it, but not possessed. in windows so that men can find their way, along the streets so that robber fear may fiy, The cup is wide and shallow; above the rocks so that ships may miss the jagged tooth, its profile like arms outstretched to receive. at touch-down so that planes may run to rest. From all the world comes the oil of burnina and the gathered pool of it When daylight comes, is a well of wisdom walk in trust beneath the larger light. serene as eternity. By the stilling of your turmoil in quietness, Hands of applause for work well done .L ...L by the stretching of your minds in wonder, and words well taken. by the girding of your lives with good, All Hands ! in time of trouble. by the lifting up of hands in praise, .1 I I May the work and touch of our hands come and worship. be as prayer in the temples of the world. Creative powers move silently through space Forget not calloused hands and do not spurn and on the crust of earth bring motion, life and mind to birth.. the man of lowly toil. Turn not your back upon a beggar's hands ; ~ind-tremorruns invisibly through our limbs he asks for the dime of acceptance. until it touches our hands and moves our fingers to the weaving of their skills. Stand not aghast at the slayer'; hands, but find asylum for him May the work of our hands match the mode of their and level justice. making. The hands of a thief are fit Hand-clasp bringing friendliness. not only for the manacle, and-soothe bringing help and healing. but also for the bow, Hands that come with garlands of beauty, that he may turn his indignity cunning with brush &d chisel, deft with pen, into a song upon strings. virtuous with instruments of music, Remember hands that were pierced with nails graceful to poise a flower in its bowl. where all might see the agony. ~andsthat bring shelter, Banish gibbet and bring th6 sufferer making horncfor homeless to lieupon the poucd. and sanctuary for wandering minds. May the guilt of our hands be expunged, Hands that make the fabric ofbur time, not wringing them in despair, spanning the rivers with steel by and skies with silver wings. but by setting them to the plough. Off

We live from day to day by habit, custom and necessity. go upon- . the journey.. thatV onlyA X love compels and take thf We grow hard and in our hardness hope that we may be extra mile upon the call oi duty. comfortable in our caves of unconcern. We come to the house of worship immersed in the In time of meditation let us break the crust of hardness merry-go-round of life's inconsequence. and crack the shell of our comfort. Let us find a still centre at the heart of the whirl. We come clad in the garments of fashion, but plead Lips are soft. to be shriven of unnecessary pride. Let there be upon them greetings of kindliness and We come beset with the uncertainty of our busy decisior smiles of encouragement. but hope to find a wisdom beyond the need for decision When morning washes away our staleness, let words of encounter be clean as dawn. Going from our worship, may we emerge from When noon has caught us up in high involvement, meditation strong to endure the trivial, glad to embrace let there be a lingering of courtesy. the commonplace, earnest to attempt the unattained. \, When evening rounds the day, let there be pause Time off to hold a fragment of the world, to see its for gratitude, thank-you words for those who serve. single parts and how they lose their loneliness in Hands are gentle. the binding form. See light and shadow and how each V Let there come from them gestures of graciousness. defines the other and takes strength from it. When times have passed for gripping the tools - -- Time off to explore the unfrequented, to find clarity and pushing the instruments of power, let there come close-by, lines and shapes like driftwood on the shore caress and clasp. Fill the koid with pulse and plenty. Feet are slow. Reach beyond the given. Let them take us to quiet corners and to sidewalks of dalliance. Time off. a . When they have ended their mechanics on brake and clutch, th&r accelerator flip and escalator tread, let them Vocation

Whatever vocation we have chosen, Many say that underneath are the everlasting arms. or whatever vocation has chosen us, But on the surface there are eyes and taut wires let us put forth resolution to pursue it well. and wordless trust. Student in his learning, teacher in his giving ; It is easy to close your eyes and see nothing, craftsman in his making, merchant in his selling. but you cannot close yourself You contain the promise Each one to his own skill, deeply and with pride. of your genes and the potentiality of your stock. Child with his growing, woman with her grace, It is easy to stop the shuffling of your feet, man with his strength. but you cannot stop the march of yourself'. Circumstance and the thrust of your desires Let us give ourselves to our employmei~ts. make openings through which you must go, or die. I saw him standing solitary on a parapet, a building It is easy just to be alone and still, but you cannot half erected soared above the sidewalk. No motion stay that way. You cannot make love alone nor discover in his body, but the composure of relaxed awareness. what you are without engagement with another. You All eyes, he watched a swaying bucket dipping down alone cannot make the products of life. Raw materials from the rigid arm of cantilevered steel. When it come from someone else's digging, and the finishing from neared the men below, who were mixing concrete and their abrasions. profanity, he did no more than raise his palm an inch In your vocation be not lonely in a crowd, or so in signal to the pulley-man aloft. but let life crowd in upon you. The bucket, ten times the weight of all the men together, Be girded with its strength swung and stopped, waiting its fill within an ace of and clad with its compassion. crushing them. Their banter did not cease, nor their spades to ply the mix. He alone held their lives in the palm of his hand, and they, not for a single moment, doubted his vigilance. Four elements father us : ~eforeI die, let me live Earth of our bone, air of our lungs, perched upon a rock at land's end water of our blood and fire of our thought. with green-blue waves pounding in Where shall we stand to feel the four from beyond the limits.

each in its elemental Aplace? Already I have seen billows and grey with menace Nothing but earth, who can find ? blunder past the cork of my cunarder. Must we wait till we are buried deep I have stepped behind the roaring curtain and clods caress our loveless flesh? of dramatic waterfalls. ~eforeI die, let me live confronted by clean slabs of towering rock Nothing but fire, who can find? whose shoulders shut out sky. Must we wait till ancient fears rekindle, Already I have clambered in a covert chimney and the nether fires of Lazarus torment us ? and scaled a buttress of earth's bone. Before I die, let me live burning with expectation. Nothing but air, who can find ? Already I have seen moorland fires that flash Must we wait till we are transformed then smoulder to the root, into pale phantoms ? and bitter fires of war Before I die, let me live that pierced the droning night. in the abrasion of great winds. But there are others which raise no shattering alarm : Already I have heard them howling sunset fire on level water, up flutes and gullies of high hills. or over incandescent salt ; Released from chafing obstacle, dawn fire tipping the white icicles they flung themselves with fury of morning mountain ; into unimpeded space. golden fireon burnished plains of wheat. Nothing but water, who can find ? Must we wait till the second flood of wrath rolls everything below the thighs of Ararat ? Many have seen a polished maple floor ; to candle-moulds in some ecclesiastical assembly-line, many have seen a vase of flowers ; to stills and cracking plants, V A. many have seen tall candles burning ; to oil oozing through buried sands. most have heard music in a lofty place. Music is a medley of airs and pipes and fingers -- Singular events these, which by themselves deftly interpreting the measure of a dream excite no special emotion, from composer long since dead. but fold them all together, an inscape of meditation, Put these together, not singly like brick on brick, and thoight unanchored sweeps out upon the flood. but like past moments mingling with the wrist-watch ticks of now, like motion from another place that Maple once stood on the shoulder of a hill has wandered into here and become no longer motion, Gaced against the blizzard, like people from their separate selves become communion its sap gently rising. and confederacy of selves. Something of gold ran fluid through its limbs When the elements are compounded can it be and expert hands persuaded gold to shine that music is the diapason floor on which I stand? anew in the floor-boards. that made branches array their leaves Flowers were forced to transcend almost in a keyboard of melody? the genius of their genes, that flowers flicker with a single flame to flower outside their normal time of bloom. and do not wither till the wax is spent? Arrayed in studied elegance, they are still-life that candle wick grows bells and trumpets where no winds shake. and shoots into riotous summer ? Candlelight is undisturbed by wind. It can be so ; but only for me. Candle and flame alike are carved in still air. My inscape is a pearl But thought is not still. whose bivalve opens only at my touch. It leaps from the straight white columns She planted a residue of garnered grain Human spring was a sudden growth inYgroundthat dogs had scratched. after a long winter of naked bough and stone. She did not know she was planting an idea Summer is long delayed which would change the history of man. while nomad, nome and nation But ploughing and reaping, granary and barn, com~etefor a place in the sun. poetry, legend and religion The vaiied crop bf tribe and clan sprang from her seed-burial. of priestly barn and royal granary supported courts of privilege, He dug a hollow in the high hills while unnumbered fed on husks. and plastered it smooth with clay to catch the evening dew or morning shower. Man learned his spring from nature His sheep would not go thirsty in a thirsty land. which thrusts all its shoots into the air He did not know that he was digging with prodigality. a city's reservoir. Sickly stem, surpassed by lustier growth, But cistern, dam and aqueduct falls back into anonymous earth, made Babylon and Rome ; or survives in the crannies of chance. urbanity sprang from his spade. Man must find a better way. He cut tall reeds from the river's edge Let careless might cease darkening lesser folk and left them drying in the sun. with ricket fehr, and leave them-unpossessed. He reaped them for a cattle bed Let cellular spread of creed and geed and made his mark upon the pile. cease blighting its victims. He did not know of manuscript or scroll. But prophet penned the burden of his dream Grain is not for hoarding, and steward ke~tthe tally of his store. nor latter rain for the few. The art of writing is no Clite accomplishment. Scholar shaped tge order of his logic upon the shepherd's papyrus. Earth waits still for universal spring. Autumn

Let the spirit be stripped bare, Times come when we are stripped of leaves ; with mind cleared of sophistries, the bole and bark of us is evident. with desire cleared of envy, Embarrassed at our nakedness, with passion cleared of pain, vulnerable in our starkness, with emotion cleared of fear, saddened at our loss of illusion, with mood cleared of stubbornness. what comfort shall we find in the fall ? Leaves are being stripped from the trees ; There is always sleep at the season's end, their falling is sombre and sad. forgetfulness and bblivion. Many feel the melancholy of autumn It blankets embarrassment and are reminded that ripeness and weaves fresh illusions in the mind. is prelude to death. ~achheafis a blow to their optimism. But man does not hibernate ; he lusts through every season But leaves dance as they fall and clothes his nakedness against the winter. and their colours are a full palette. He finds the sturdy certainties that were hidden The earth is glad to receive them beneath verdure. for its own renewal. When dry leaves are gathered to a funeral pyre Held by a firm earth, hailed by stalwart friends, their blue fragrance is a sharp joy. breathing crisp air and plying tested talent, When they fall from parent branches Let us stand our ground and wait for future spring. slanting sun draws Tresh figures, pencil sketches to fill the pad of winter. et Ecstasy

Ecstasy is a stance outside oneself; Absorption is ecstasy. Absorbed in spectacle of theatre or sport, it is watching the world take sha~eI from a diffeGnt perspective. I am caught in movement, meaning and excitement. Give me a clear undulating road, a gentle curve, Deliberate concentration can be ecstasy. J good vision, beautiful day and my car in good trim. Middle-moves in games of chess, I will not hesitate to call it ecstasy. foot and finger hoids when climbing rocks. I become less me ; more pure motion. Not pure ecstasy, for in the permutation of the ~lav adin the delicacy of balkce, ~eingabsorbed is ecstasy. I still regard myself and look for elegance. By Nature, not in any tame mood., but in its large and overpowering aspects. Give me mountains ; Relaxation this side of sleep can be ecstasy. best to be in the middle of them, approaching Reading books ; thinking another's thought or leaving them second, on top third. after him, sharing his taste and enjoying I lose my size, my shape and my tempo. his tale, identifying with his characters ; I become poetic and know myself grounded, I am expanded. Coming back into myself is anti-climax. air-mantled, light-bathed, wind-weathered. I do not normally live at that intensity. Outside myself; ecstatic. Physical relaxation is ecstasy. What stands outside ? he finish of long walks, strenuous swims, A larger self with unmarked boundaries, sharp contests ;resting on grass, soaking in baths. a bigger-muscled self swelling beyond the ring Body is totally occupied with its own recuperation, of the normal. it intrudes upon the mind only with muscle resonances, with idle brain scannings. When self returns to its former shape Mind is free to move at its own pace, disengaged its contours are clean ; from effort. there is no regret. Rachel weeping for her children ; Sleep will come into your house She refuses to be comforted, Like seas subsided Because they are not. Relaxing loins of love. Time will give you back the broken times The children are gone into exile. Of days uncounted and of fractured nights. They have furrowed the sands Take time's gift. ~ndscuffed the sharp stones I Accept its solace. On the long march. Thev serve the lea sure of minces Rachel refuses. suffer the iendetta of captains. ~nd She takes a jar of bitterness They will return again with fatness, Upon her sloping shoulder, Say the comforters. And fills it from the lifeless well ~durdaughters with milk-tipped breasts, Where no greeting is exchanged. Your sons with carven beards She sweeps-her f160r clean again today Defying Babylonian sword. As yesterday she swept, ~hou~hnone disturbed the dust. Rachel refuses to be comforted. ~ourHstretch out long with remembering. Songs have ceased about her house. Scars of sorrow are not healed by words, The counting and the spelling stones Nor knitted by what might have been. Are scattered. l . ale$-beth and gimel. Shoulder to the jar, Frail heads no longer on the ~illow Hand to the broom, Make night more l'bvely thanthe first Pacing and pondering, When H; divided lighi from dark. lone will weave fresh tissue. There will be other songs Ringing down the street and in the temple. Rudiments of letters will be mortared Into poems of a hundred pairs. The tomb is always silent save for the heart-break Out of the silence let there come a reckoning. of those who watch. The dead have left a trace of love in the flesh They hear the fading tread of familiar feet of those to whom they bequeathed life. and listen unbeli6vingly for the voice they knew. They left a touch of wisdom in the minds of those who listened to them in quietness. Bereavement is always hollow save for the proud minds They left a mark in places made their own of those who remember. by tool and spade They remember incidents of sound and gesture, and by the crdtwork of their thought. and even the course delicacies of a man, but expunge from thought the gestureless end. We will speak of immortalities as far as thought can reach. Who will roll away the stone? Of light that carries from the nebulous boundaries Not professional mutes who wear the ribbon of grief; to the centres of creation, not bland purveyors who proclaim eternal solace ; Of motion that follows the grain of time and space but the dohors df life's coGtinuities. to bring a system of promise, They give food and friendship, employment and mirth. Of earth that outlasts and outwears T~Gshow by their common deeds . the living limbs that clamber on it. that'life is not irre~arablvfractured. I Man has come a long way and death will not obliterate They are the livinp tells, the venture. scar tissue for the healing of grief. Each one makes his reckoning and passes. The tomb is always silent. Light comes at dawn, Out of the silence let there come a living image Motion turns within the womb. of the dead which we dare not lose, Earth will roll away the stone. lest life that was vanish for ever, And still the tomb is silent. He Lives !

He was buried in the dark tomb He lives in centuries of human strife and failure. and i oined his dust He lives wherever vengeful shots are fired to tlk mould of all men. in the futile hope of ending valour. But they could not forget him. - He lives where shuffling marchers try the patience of privilege. Some he had healed. He lives in priestly chants and anthems of requiem. He came into the outcast loneliness of many. He lives in any human life which has been captured Some let a word of his fall into their minds by his prayer or parable. like a grain of mustard seed which grew tall in their hopes. All who are remembered by their deeds Some had seen him smitten, but he did not rebuke. long after they have passed into the earth One had said, I know not the man ! or back into the elements by purge of fire though last night he shared the broken bread ; Live, while living thoughts retrace their steps He fled before the withering glance. and call to mind their substance or their shadow. While morning dew was still upon the ground Only he is forgotten and shadows lurked about the sepulchre, whose words found no attentive ear, There were some said he lived whose touch was rejected, beyond the nights of dissolution. whose work passed for nothing. Behold ! A rumour went forth ! It ripples still Of even him perhaps the earth bears traces across the ponds of man's credulity. and forgives. The earth remembers more deeply He lives ! Of course he lives. cautions more wisely But in no trivial place where throne is topaz. and renews the failures of its bearing. The city was not made for summer time. Let these be secular retreats It has paved the soil of pleasure with wormless concrete. Where we can worship in careless ease. It has covered the sweet grass with the pressure of wheels. As we take our fill of (he wonder of the earth,

It has piped the open rivulets- through hidden conduits, Let us leave the land undimmed and undiminished. And we are strangers to the earth. Whether we travel near or far, The city has carved its spaces on high May we respect the will of all who share the earth with us. And limited the living air. May we go with care that none may be injured by our It has focused sunlight into ovens of restlessness, haste or harmed by our negligence. And hewn down trees of shade and respiration. The good earth supported other lives before we came and will abide when our tracks are washed out. Therefore we will open the doorways of our being Let no growing thing or living creature To unfettered spaces and flowing grass, be wantonly destroyed by us. To trees of music and of silence, Let us leave no incongruous spoor And to waters that sparkle in the sun. dropped as tokens of our passing. Our earth is not yet covered by the blight of man, BY our labour through the busy months we have earned Not yet is distance filled with habitation. our keep. Let summer be the time when we renew ourselves In our leisure thanks be for things we have not earned : At older shrines, unchoked by commerce, The companionship of the ancient elements, Unsmeared by trade. earth, air, fire and water ; Wine-winds upon the shoulder of hills, The surprises of our journeying, Sun-drench b&ide the roll of seas, sudden views of loveliness Pool-plunge down crisp waters, and animals at play ; ~had;sle@ in dappledAwoods, The fellowship of friends at day's end, Ribbed caverns in dissolving rocks the task's end when a look is enough And lawns of graciousness running down to water to reveal our contentment. meadows. 'SUOJ~Z~JWJIS3F UylrM aAq 01 JO sadop uo qoy 03 =a1 aM .r -r

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4s~ape~830 ~~1x8 4~~~~ G suoseas Xutm 30 amssaq *saxoj8urpvxgap sq puv T Legend draws heaven and earth closer together, He planted a garden southward in Eden weaves man and beast into one tapestry, And there set the tree of shade ; leaves nothing out of star and firelight, In glowing sand shone a pool of water cave of rock and canopy of velvet, Where jackals once had played. angels' song and cattle's breath, And under the tree a strong son of ~sau, the sharp, sweet wail of birth Filling his water jar, and Rachel uncomforted, weeping for her children. Looks up through palms in the cool of evening To the spear of a Holy Star. Let legend live on winter's song and carol waken dreams across the snow. He planted a garden westward in Eden Let the swift flight of ancient time And there set the tree of birch ;. liberate the cockle-crawl of our souls. Air through its branches and bark of its body Sent restless men on their search ; Tree Worship. By deep-roaring rapid and rimless prairie To the pulse of a western sea He planted a garden eastward in Eden Dip paddle, and cleave the clean air of heave11 And there set the tree of life, Back to the silver tree. With roots soil-snaking and brown bark wrinkled He planted a garden northward in Eden As though it were born of strife. And there set the tree of pine ; But high on the breeze, where green leaf quivers And straight it grew like an arrow to heaven Blue-bathed against the sky, Where Dipper and Pole Star shine. A man looks up from the dust and demons A man with his firelight alone in the darkness As the Lord of Heaven rides by. Watching the wood smoke rise Looks up, and sees by shimmering aurora

The bounding deer of the skies. - Without vision a people perish. Amid the merry round and mirth Without hose da;s aie a iuccession of dreariness. ~hristmaitideat fullest swing, of U Without fesiival s'easons come and go uncelebrated. Beneath the fluorescent glare Of merchandise and wassailing ; We will sing and carol the yuletide, the turnink of the sun. When mammoth stores are disney-full We will mace mirth in the dark of the year. And market square is loud with cries, When pianos strummed in public bars One by one the trees of Christmas come alight Change beat and croon of angel skies ; till all the city sprinkles the snow with petals. When music makers mendicant ~ighte~our darkness ! File Indian-wise along the street, that human love so easily extinguished And 'Noel' greets the gring of gears may illumine our night for a season. And 'Holy ~ight'the swish of feet ; One by one the cards of Christmas tumble through our When tinselled spruce of aldermen, doors from across the street and across the world. As high almost as Martin's spire, How beautiful upon the mountain are the feet of him Sets civic seal on Bethlehem that bringeth God tidings ! And burghers' boon on ~ary'sbyre ; He brinas remembrancers of brotherhood acrosithe frontiers of the world. Leave then the lure of mammon's ware, And by your fire or in your pew One by one the gifts of Christmas crackle Remember still a wayside inn and make our children wake for j oy. And shelter for a lonely Jew. It is more blessed to give than to receive. May they be tokens of our winter warmth shared through all seasons and all weathers. O morninp. that fills our eastern windows Where there are those who complain and thr&s fresh light on the riddles of yesterday, because life has lost its sparkle, fill also our minds with fresh appreciation or times of consequence have passed them by ; and new desire. Let there come a challenge on this day. The streets are full of crisis ; While it is yet day we will stand forth he who turns the panic into competence in the presence of each returning joy. restores the thoroughfare. Love light on cloud and light on snow For him time will noi be heavy. and quiet light on faces wakening from sleep. Where there are those, rare souls, Where there are those who are anxious who are at peace with themselves about what the day will bring, and in gladrapport- - with the world ; about food and where to eat, Let their joy be caught upon the wing about clothes and where to go ; by those whom they greet. Let there be other work to think about ; a child in doubt about the way, Where there are those who are lithe of limb a friend who has lost the will to love, and plunge into their enterprises a neighbour forgotten in the whirl. with a shout ; Let them go free to undiscovered hills, He who serves them with understanding U that, when they return, and shares the morning of himself, their tale will kindle the hours of evening. overcomes his own anxieties. O morning, that meets and melts the clouds, lead us 50the noon of our accomplishment. We have set a time for labour and a time for rest, We have set a time for spending and a time for reckoning, and evening is the time between. and evening is the time between. It is a time foi savouring the busy hours, We bargained in a basement amid the clutching hands, - for replenishing the bGdy at a jiiendly board, but at home enj oy the purchase. for fining the storehouse of the mind, We spent our substance on the loot of day, for beingat ease beside the mellow lamp but in the evening we ignore the price. We have set a time for learning Evening is the time of lightly-moving talk, and the time of forgetting will soon come. the give and take of narrative ; Evening is for recollection in between. ~xaggerationof our trivial day, Gather the hours into a and drink ; theproffer of a theory glass andLachuckle when [t's tossed aside. you will enjoy your past a second time. Gather the days into a book and read ; We have set a time for shouting and a time for sleep, you will fhd the chapters never end and evening is the time between. because they were scarce begun. We shouted tb carry a request Gather the years into an album and browse ; across the din of industry ; you will find that you are episodes but in leisure sotto voce is enough. in a dynasty of life' that hoks you We shouted to hail an accomplice>cross the street, by each hand. but by evening he is at our elbow. O evening, that quietens and yet judges us, We shouted to fill the hall with oratory, lead us into night of trust. but friends at home are not amused by speeches ; only table-talk. Leonard Mason is minister and mountaineer, father and grandfather, a quiet and thoughtful speaker and a profoundly original writer. He studied at Manchester, England, and Harvard, USA, and was minister to Unitarian congregations in London, Norwich and Leicester before leaving England in 1960 to take up his present appointment at the Unitarian Church of the Messiah, Montreal.

In his foreword to this collection of "antiphonal meditations" he writes that "its foreground is Canadian, its background is English; its accent is secular, its intent religious; its predominant phraseology is humanist, its tone an undisclosed theism." These writings will be found of value both for public and private use and grow out of a wide range of interests in all aspects of human endeavour.

A companion to this volume is a collection of verse and prose writings Hinge of the Year,-'--Q* w~tn* illustrations by Andrea Pugh who has designed the cover for this.