Veni Creator

Come, Holy Spirit,
bending or not bending the grasses,
appearing or not above our heads in a tongue of flame,
at hay harvest or when they plough in the orchards or when snow
covers crippled firs in the Sierra Nevada.
I am only a man: I need visible signs.
I tire easily, building the stairway of abstraction.
Many a time I asked, you know it well, that the statue in church
lifts its hand, only once, just once, for me.
But I understand that signs must be human,
therefore call one man, anywhere on earth,
not me—after all I have some decency—
and allow me, when I look at him, to marvel at you.

--Czeslaw Milosz (1911-2004) Polish poet and emigre, translated by Czeslaw Milosz and Robert Pinsky

Photos:
1)Angel statue in Christ Church Cathedral, where I and my friends Maria and Andrew were ordained to the priesthood one year ago today. The Veni Creator Spiritus was sung at our ordination.
2) Andrew, Maria, and I on our ordination night.