to relax the shoulders
first relax the hips
first relax the hips
THE SILENCE
Though the air is full of singing
my head is loud
with the labor of words.
Though the season is rich
with fruit, my tongue
hungers for the sweet of speech.
Though the beech is golden
I cannot stand beside it
mute, but must say
“It is golden,” while the leaves
stir and fall with a sound
that is not a name.
It is in the silence
that my hope is, and my aim.
A song whose lines
I cannot make or sing
sounds men’s silence
like a root. Let me say
and not mourn: the world
lives in the death of speech
and sings there.
—Wendell Berry
To say that theology comes down to theopoetics is to say it deals in imaginative figurations originating in the depths of our sensuous, affective, and preconscious life, that its engagement with the world takes place in the preconceptual, prethematic base of our existence, in the dark and ambiguous ground from which we all spring.
—John D Caputo