stanzas of the soul/the living flame of love

~ St. John of the Cross

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sight, taste, touch, hearing, stopped

~ St. John of the Cross

read by Robert Bly

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closed for the night

~ St. John of the Cross

read by Robert Bly

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if you love

.

You might quiet the whole world for a second

if you pray.

.

And if you love, if you

really love,

.

our guns will

wilt.

.

~ St. John of the Cross

.

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I cobbled their boots

.

.

How could I love my fellow men who tortured me?

.

One night I was dragged into a room 

and beaten near death with

their shoes

.

striking me hundreds of times

in the face, scarring me 

forever.

.

I cried out for God to help, until I fainted.

.

That night in a dream, in a dream more real than this world.

a strap from the Christ's sandal

fell from my bleeding

mouth,

.

and I looked at Him and He 

was weeping, and

spoke,

.

"I cobbled their boots;

how sorry 

I am.

.

What moves all things

is God."

.

~ St John of the Cross

from Love poems of God,

Twelve sacred voices from the East and West

.

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to just be close

.

I was sad one day and went for a walk;

I sat in a field.

.

A rabbit noticed my condition and 

came near.

.

It often does not take more than that to help at times -

.

to just be close to creatures who

are so full of knowing,

so full of love

that they don't

- chat,

.

they just gaze with

their

marvelous understanding.

.

.

~ St. John of the Cross

from Love Poems from God

translations by Daniel Ladinsky

.

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the dark night

In the delicious night,

In privacy, where no one saw me,

Nor did I see one thing,

I had no light or guide

But the fire that burned inside my chest.

That fire showed me

The way more clearly than the blaze of noon

To where, waiting for me,

Was the One I knew so well,

In that place where no one ever is.

Oh night, sweet guider,

Oh night more marvelous than dawn!

Oh night which joins

The lover and the beloved

So that the lover and beloved change bodies!

In my chest full of flowers,

Flowering wholly and only for Him,

There He remained sleeping;

I cared for Him there,

And the fan of the high cedars cooled Him.

The wind played with

His hair, and that wind from the high

Towers struck me on the neck

With its sober hand;

Sight, taste, touch, hearing stopped.

I stood still, I forgot who I was,

My face leaning against Him,

Everything stopped, abandoned me,

My worldliness was gone, forgotten

Among the white lilies.

~ St. John of the Cross

from The Collected Works of St. John of the Cross 

version by Robert Bly

photo by imogene cunningham

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The Dark Night (excerpt)

.

.

In the delicious night,

In privacy, where no one saw me,

Nor did I see one thing,

I had no light or guide

But the fire that burned inside my chest.

.

That fire showed me

The way more clearly that the blaze of noon

To where, waiting for me,

Was the One I knew so well,

In that place where no one ever is.

.

I stood still; I forgot who I was,

My face leaning against Him,

Everything stopped, abandoned me,

My being was gone, forgotten

Among the white lilies.

.

~ Saint John of the Cross

.

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