Keep on going, leave behind you

Old, old stories, loaded luggage,

Houses full of many memories.

 

Journey always with your pockets

Empty, nothing to catch hold of;

And the wind moves in the trees, which

Turn and twist with groans and wheezes.

 

Knowing not what is the ending

Of this road, so strange and winding;

Hearing just three far-off footfalls

Or the murmur of your presence

Or the vapour of your breathing.

 

Friend, when I am speaking with you,

Then I feel that i am dying,

That in you I am beginning.

 

Older images grow fainter

And a present new emerges,

But I think not of the future —

It should be unknown, unpublished,

Bit by bit you should unfold it

In my presence with your magic.

 

Do you know that I’m still bleeding

Through some wounds, though others healed, but

Still iIache when it is raining.

And the war goes on and on, while

Battlefields are still extending;

It all seem interminable —

How discouraging, unending!

 

My strength is simply not sufficient,

Nor do my objectives help me.

Come with me, then, Mighty Warrior,

Blow your breath divine across me.

May a star that’s favourable

And the full moon light my night-time

Which is filled with trick and swindles

And the falsehoods of the enemy.

 

I arrive then at the clearing

In your wood where we have spoken

Many and many a time together.

You see me, but I don’t see you.

You are not the sound the tree makes

Underneath the wind’s caresses.

No, now I have understood it —

You yourself, yes, you’re the silence.

 

Quiet then, breezes, trees, birds, crickets,

Thoughts and plans, the past and future.

Silence then, wise judgement’s lightning.

Hold your tongues, logic and reason,

Theology, theory and practice.

 

Quiet all, then, since I know now

That within this very stillness

God himself is listening to me.

 

© Manuel Ordax

This entry was posted on Wednesday, April 22nd, 2009 at 13:21 and is filed under faith issues / cuestión de fe, personal.