dusk, Monotype of the Day #666

Day 296 of Year 2 (Actually Day 301)

The Moor
by R. S. Thomas

It was like a church to me.
I entered it on soft foot,
Breath held like a cap in the hand.
It was quiet.
What God was there made himself felt,
Not listened to, in clean colours
That brought a moistening of the eye,
In movement of the wind over grass.

There were no prayers said. But stillness
Of the heart’s passions — that was praise
Enough; and the mind’s cession
Of its kingdom. I walked on,
Simple and poor, while the air crumbled
And broke on me generously as bread.

Found on https://www.poetry-chaikhana.com/blog/2018/03/16/r-s-thomas-the-moor-3/
If you are interested in sacred poetry, Poetry Chaikhana is a wonderful resource!
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