.
Sadness Has Silent Feet
Sorrow comes on softened steps,
__But joy leaps madly in.
Where is she with the golden hair
__I would yet see again?
Is she now like wind on braes
__That sing the brae-wind song?
Or does she, silent, by the sea,
__Whisper, and walk along?
In the air she calls me now
__With calls, oh long and sweet.
Oh, joy leaps madly in, but sadness
__Comes on silent feet.
.
.
You
The beauty in that violet tree
Is much, almost too much for me;
But even flushed with morning dew
It isn´t anything like you.
The sumptuous glory of the sun
When it at dawn begins to run
Its daily course through blazing skies
Is cold and pale beside your eyes.
The majesty of that oak tree,
Its strong and wise nobility,
It calms me as angels might do,
But nothing calms me like you do.
The shimmering light in upland streams,
And silver stars and white moonbeams,
And mountains vast, they´re beauty too,
But alone among them all is… you.
.
.
Fr. Bruce Wren, born in 1962 in the small town of Cottonwood, Idaho, current serves as Chaplain of the Chicago Chapter of the Lumen Institute, Section Director to the Chicago Regnum Christi Men’s section, chaplain to the Catholic Professionals of Illinois, spiritual director for many religious and lay people, and helps regularly at several parishes in the Chicago Diocese. He also devotes regular time to the feminine congregations of the Missionaries of Charity, the Little Sisters of the Poor, and the Rosary Hill Dominican Sisters. He has published one book of poetry, “Fending off the Dragon Fire”, available at Amazon.
Both are lovely and remind me of Poe.
wow..soothing beauty
Bruce, I absolutely love these two poems, so sad and yet so romantic. Thank you.
Thanks Norma. I guess that is what they were meant to be.
Thanks to all for reading and commenting!
I’m curious, Fr. Wren, about what you mean by “violet tree.”
And you are quite correct: there is something noble and majestic about an ancient oak tree. They may be the closest thing we have to Ents in the present world.
It was a tree I saw in a courtyard in Santiago, Chile, when I was there some time ago. I’m not a biologist or forestry major, so I’m not sure of the species. Others have asked me the same question, so I looked up possible solutions: Securidaca longepedunculata, crape-myrtle, jacaranda?
If you had seen the tree in North America, then Paulownia, the empress tree, would also have been a possibility.
Bruce, I will picture your violet tree as a Jacaranda, mainly because they are considerably more spectacular in flower than crepe myrtle.
In your first poem the concluding couplet perfectly describes the opposing feelings of joy and sadness.
Thanks Fr. Bruce. Didn’t realize you wrote poetry. I’ll have try to get you a copy of Heidi’s poems/prayers they compiled from her Facebook posts…
Hi Heather! I already have a copy of these.
Beautiful and wistful. Your way with words has always made my heart smile.