I wanted to share this poem by fellow New Mexico dweller, although many years ago, D.H. Lawrence. He touches on spirit in some of his writings in ways that bite to the core. This is the greatest one I have read. Read it slow, each line taking a few deep breaths, sinking in to where it carries you.
It’s good.
Song of a Man Who Has Come Through
D.H. Lawrence
Not I, not I, but the wind that blows through me!
A fine wind is blowing the new direction of Time.
If only I let it bear me, carry me, if only it carry me!
If only I am sensitive, subtle, oh, delicate, a winged gift!
If only, most lovely of all, I yield myself and am borrowed
By the fine, fine wind that takes its course through the chaos of the world
Like a fine, an exquisite chisel, a wedge-blade inserted;
If only I am keen and hard like the sheer tip of a wedge
Driven by invisible blows,
The rock will split, we shall come at the wonder, we shall find the Hesperides.
Oh, for the wonder that bubbles into my soul,
I would be a good fountain, a good well-head,
Would blur no whisper, spoil no expression.
What is the knocking?
What is the knocking at the door in the night?
It is somebody wants to do us harm.
No, no, it is the three strange angels.
Admit them, admit them
The painting is “The Silent Voice” by Gerald Edward Moira and it’s one of my very favorites of all the art I have ever seen. It is mysterious, yet it is not at all.