Yesterday was the feast of Youssef Antoun Makhlouf, a.k.a. St. Charbel, a.k.a. St. Sharbel, so here's a small something reposted in honor of the great modern hermit.
The cedars grow tall on the Liban hills
with life beyond grasp of human will;
light grows bright around muddy grave
of a hermit-saint who hid his face;
the heart is kissed by burning light
of cedar rising to sun and sky
and, flaming with fire that sears the night,
it burns but is not burned.