Greylag - a poem out of meditation

 Eileen Lawrence: Greylag 1978

GREYLAG : watercolour and handmade papers

It disturbs me, this feather, plucked

from a hurrying greylag goose, or

caught by the wind’s impetuous 

wing and now quiet on the

artist’s page. I see myself in

the sharp-cut shine of the

leading edge, the vulnerable

wisps from deeper down, 

close to the panicked heart of things.

But that swift-curving quill - what

can I see in that but only

the Spirit’s arrow, clear and keen,

piercing the soul but in its arc

the colourless strength

that keeps me whole?

C.M.M. Iona, March ’14.

                                                                                                             

On our recent retreat, we spent time in silence. Sometimes we had a visual aid for our meditation, and this card was the first of these.