Tabor
On Tabor we are the resplendent garment:
Christ is one, Christ is many,
Christ is the union of one and many,
but this does not exhaust Him.
On Tabor our light is His light in us:
we receive from Him and He from us,
we are in Him and He is in us,
but this does not exhaust Him.
On Tabor we are exalted in His glory:
Christ is infinite, Christ is finite,
Christ is the union of infinite and finite,
but this does not exhaust Him.
On Tabor we are lit with the acts of God:
what was impossible is possible in Him,
what would be lacking is found in Him,
but this does not exhaust Him.
Halcyon
The wind is still on tranquil wave
(the ache is great, the pain is deep),
no tempest-roar or storm to brave
(despair is gnawing, wound unstaunched),
and all is calm (but not my heart!)
and all is fair up on the sea
(except for in my inward part!).
So long ago my flight was launched;
I've yearned for love I could not keep;
I grieve, though calm is on the deep
and wind is still on tranquil wave.
Certainties
The heart still beats in Peter's hall,
the world still turns upon the cross,
in silent gardens shadows fall
on leaves that do not heed their loss,
in holy skies the stars still burst
and milky still the stream is seen,
for which soft light the mind still thirsts
beside the lake of moonlit sheen.
How fair, how fair the evenings are
that bring a respite from the day --
and, sure and safe beneath a star,
the road of Christ lies where it lay.
