POEM: WOODEN TABERNACLE
Most of my life,
except for a few retreats
into the deep forest of God,
I’ve stayed in the city,
remained at the edge of the woods,
writing poems
about the edge of things,
singing sad songs
about my loneliness,
about the color of surfaces,
about these gods of mine,
flowers at the edge of my woods,
at the edge of the tabernacle,
flowers so easy to uproot,
so soon to fade,
so unlike the trees
in the heart of the forest.
© Andrew Costello
6 comments:
I liked your poem. It provided a great metaphor for reflection. Thanks!
I liked your poem. It provided a great metaphor for reflection. Thanks!
Hi Fr Andy,
Your poem is poignant with meaning ... ya, there are layers of meaning and they take a bit of pondering. I hear a 'inner' yearning. I am certainly very happy that you have finally gotten this blog up and running. Does this mean you will post your weekly homilies here too? I await your input, God bless.
Andy, thanks for doing this blog. Now the whole internet world can experiece your wonderful writing and wisdom (and wit!) We'll be checking in often--brent and maryann
Glad I found this on the day before Independence Day, 2007
Fr. Andy ,
Your wooden tabernacle is behind my house .
A woods filled with blessings of birds, trees and wildlife .
Thank you for showing it to me thru your eyes.
Mary Joan
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