love songs & dedications

21 06 2009

i came across this today in a picture-and-poems book about renaissance art and heaven on kyneburh‘s bookshelf while i was taking a people-break from her baby shower–she and dave were thoroughly showered with fuzzy blankets and washcloths and cute clothes, all of them with monkeys on, so life is good in the weese household, for everybody except the traumatized dog chased by small children all afternoon. it made me think of little things that are true about lots of you, and lots of people who aren’t still on here or were never on here or aren’t still big-picture here at all. it’s a lot to live up to, if you want to take on the whole picture, which is why it was in the “saints” section of the book, but not, necessarily, entirely out of reach.

by Brennan Kennelly

The good are vulnerable
As any bird in flight,
They do not think of safety,
Are blind to possible extinction
And when most vulnerable
Are most themselves.
The good are real as the sun,
Are best perceived through clouds
Of casual corruption
That cannot kill the luminous sufficiency
That shines on city, sea and wilderness,
Fastidiously revealing
One man to another,
Who yet will not accept
Responsibilities of light.
The good incline to praise,
To have the knack of seeing that
The best is not destroyed
Although forever threatened.
The good go naked in all weathers,
And by their nakedness rebuke
The small protective sanities
That hide men from themselves.
The good are difficult to see
Though open, rare, destructible;
Always, they retain a kind of youth,
The vulnerable grace
Of any bird in flight,
Content to be itself,
Accomplished master and potential victim,
Accepting what the earth or sky intends.
I think that I know one or two
Among my friends.




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