The Poetics of Faith

‘Straight to the point’
          can ricochet,
                    unconvincing.
Circumlocution, analogy,
          parable’s ambiguities, provide
                    context, stepping-stones.

Most of the time. And then

the lightning power
          amidst these indirections,
                    of plain
unheralded miracle!
          For example,
                    as if forgetting
to prepare them, He simply
          walks on water
                    towards them, casually –
and impetuous Peter, empowered,
          jumps from the boat and rushes
                    On wave-tip to meet Him –
a few steps, anyway –
          (till it occurs to him,
                    ‘I can’t, this is preposterous’
and Jesus has to grab him,
          tumble his weight
                    back over the gunwale).
Sustaining those light and swift
          steps was more than Peter
                    could manage. Still,
years later,
          his toes and insteps, just before sleep,
                    would remember their passage.

--Denise Levertov (1923-1997), Anglo-American poet, daughter of a Hasidic father who became a priest in the Church of England, and convert to Roman Catholicism, from The Stream and the Sapphire.

Musical Notation: 1

The physicality of the religious poets should not
be taken idly. He or she, who loves God, will
look most deeply into His works. Clouds are not
only vapor, but shape, mobility, silky sacks of
nourishing rain. The pear orchard is not
only profit, but a paradise of light. The luna moth,
who lives but a few days, sometimes only a few
hours, has a pale green wing whose rim is like a
musical notation. Have you noticed? 

We had a dog once that adored flowers; no mat-
ter how briskly she went through the fields, she
must stop and consider the lilies, tiger lilies, and
other blossoming things along her way. Another
dog of our household loved sunsets and would
run off in the evenings to the most western part
of the shore and sit down on his haunches for
the whole show, that pink and peach colored
swollenness. Then home he would come trot-
ting in the alpenglow, that happy dog.

--Mary Oliver (1935- 2019), prolific and popular American poet and lover of nature, from Thirst.