O Sweet Irrational Worship
by Thomas MertonOriginal Language English
Wind and a bobwhite
And the afternoon sun.
By ceasing to question the sun
I have become light,
Bird and wind.
My leaves sing.
I am earth, earth
All these lighted things
Grow from my heart.
A tall, spare pine
Stands like the initial of my first
Name when I had one.
When I had a spirit,
When I was on fire
When this valley was
Made out of fresh air
You spoke my name
In naming Your silence:
O sweet, irrational worship!
I am earth, earth
My heart's love
Bursts with hay and flowers.
I am a lake of blue air
In which my own appointed place
Field and valley
Stand reflected.
I am earth, earth
Out of my grass heart
Rises the bobwhite.
Out of my nameless weeds
His foolish worship.
 | -- from Selected Poems of Thomas Merton, by Thomas Merton |
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Well, I seem to be mostly recovered from the Covid I picked up a couple of weeks ago. It's been no fun, certainly, a miserable sort of flu, but not the sort of thing to bring society to a halt. I know that different people have different reactions, that the vaccine can lessen symptoms, and that vulnerable individuals can end up in the hospital, but, having come through, I find myself asking if it is truly worth all of the fear and blame and isolation that has gripped society.
I shake my head and step outside where life continues. I listen to the wind. I wait for the winter clouds to part to feel the afternoon sun on my face.
Wind and a bobwhite
And the afternoon sun.
Bobwhite, if you don't know what it is, is a quail-like bird with a unique whistle that sounds like bob-WHITE, bob-bob-WHITE. Reading the opening lines to Merton's poem, I imagine a walk on a slow afternoon, a gentle breeze, the airy space cut by the clear whistle of the bobwhite.
By ceasing to question the sun
I have become light,
Bird and wind.
I can see a few possible reactions to this statement. Some might read the phrase "ceasing to question" as one of religious dogma, suggesting that a certain freedom comes from no longer questioning one's belief system. Knowing Merton's spiritually inclusive philosophy, I don't think that's what he intended.
Rather than standing outside of the moment, turning the scene into an external landscape for the questioning mind to define and label and remain apart from, we become quiet and present. We merge into the moment. We don't see a pretty seen awash in light, we become the light itself... and the birdsong and the breeze. We fill the space.
I am earth, earth
All these lighted things
Grow from my heart.
The boundaries of identity expand. Who we are is not limited by the body or the stories we tell ourselves. We are everything spread out before us, the earth itself. From the earth's deep heart, our heart, all things grow and emerge to be bathed in the light of the sun.
A tall, spare pine
Stands like the initial of my first
Name when I had one.
I love the way a bold, solitary tree stands forth to become a signifier of -- what? An initial, one's first name, one's personal name. But that name itself has become ephemeral, lost in the larger self. With a quiet mind, we have become not only wordless, but nameless. Finding the wider self in the wider reality, we have moved beyond names.
Out of my nameless weeds
His foolish worship.
However we define worship, reverence, the celebration of life and innate goodness, may we allow ourselves to be swept up in it fully -- foolishly.
Recommended Books: Thomas Merton
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| Selected Poems of Thomas Merton | The Collected Poems of Thomas Merton | A Thomas Merton Reader | The Strange Islands: Poems by Thomas Merton | Thomas Merton Monk & Poet: A Critical Study |
