Thursday, March 18, 2021

Katie Snipes Lancaster

Then they cried to the Lord in their trouble, and the Lord saved them from their distress; Psalm 107:19

It is good to be out on the road, and going one knows not where,
Going through meadow and village, one knows not whither or why;
Through the grey light drift of the dust, in the keen cool rush of the air,
Under the flying white clouds, and the broad blue lift of the sky.

And to halt at the chattering brook, in a tall green fern at the brink
Where the harebell grows, and the gorse, and the foxgloves purple and white;
Where the shifty-eyed delicate deer troop down to the brook to drink
When the stars are mellow and large at the coming on of the night.

O, to feel the beat of the rain, and the homely smell of the earth,
Is a tune for the blood to jig to, and joy past power of words;
And the blessed green comely meadows are all a-ripple with mirth
At the noise of the lambs at play and the dear wild cry of the birds.
—John Masefield, “Tewkesbury Road”

Carry us to “the beat of the rain,”
And the “homely smell of the earth”
Be our song, unfurling in “blessed green”
As the possibility of spring gives us the possibility of joy.
Carry us, O God.