"Americans are a free people, who know that freedom is the right of every person and the future of every nation. The liberty we prize is not America's gift to the world, it is God's gift to humanity." - President George W. Bush, State of the Union, January 28, 2003

CARRION COMFORT By Gerard Manley Hopkins, S.J. Not, I'll not, carrion comfort, Despair, not feast on thee; Not untwist - slack they may be - these last strands of man In me or, most weary, cry I can no more. I can; Can something, hope, wish day come, not chose not to be. But ah, but O thou terrible, why wouldst thou rude on me Thy wring-world right foot rock? Lay a lionlimb against me? Scan With darksome devouring eyes my bruisèd bones? And fan, O in turns of tempest, me heaped there; me frantic to avoid thee and flee? Why? That my chaff might fly; my grain lie, sheer and Clear. Nay in all that toil, that coil, since (seems) I kissed the rod, Hand rather, my heart lo! Lapped strength, stole joy, would laugh, cheer. Cheer whom though? The hero whose heaven- Handling flung me, foot trod Me? Or me that fought him? O which one? Is it each one? That night, that year Of now done darkness I wretch lay wrestling with (my God!) my God. From: Hopkins, Poems and Prose. Published by Alfred A. Knopf, Inc., 1995; p. 72 I came upon this poem today in a unique way – more on that some other time - and it absorbed me completely. It's a fascinating story of one man’s struggle ……… Well, I'll blog about my interpretation at a later date. In the mean time, enjoy.

posted by Michael Lee on 7/08/2003 09:54:00 PM | link |

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