A Still Life…A Life Still

On this rainy day in the darkest week of the year, I find this poem sheltering.  Last Christmas, I shared another G.K. Chesterton  poem here which long has been in my family’s collective and ritual memory.  Now this one I offer, hoping that we may  follow the feet where all souls meet, At the inn at the end of the world.  May you be surprised at what you find there; there where the dark is alive with rain.

There is heard a hymn when the panes are dim,
And never before or again,
When the nights are strong with a darkness long,
And the dark is alive with rain.

Never we know but in sleet and in snow,
The place where the great fires are,
That the midst of the earth is a raging mirth
And the heart of the earth a star.

And at night we win to the ancient inn
Where the child in the frost is furled,
We follow the feet where all souls meet
At the inn at the end of the world.

The gods lie dead where the leaves lie red,
For the flame of the sun is flown,
The gods lie cold where the leaves lie gold,
And a Child comes forth alone.

G.K. Chesterton

~ by Susan on 12/23/2011.

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