The serious and sometimes satirical reflections of a priest, poet, and pilgrim —
who knowing he has not obtained the goal, presses on in a Godward direction.
Who was that man? I’m busy with my plow;
I’ve rived these furrows twenty years, and now
he tells me, “Follow me” — but can’t say how
or where I’ll earn my bread, or where I’ll stay
to pass the frigid night.
What did he say?
“Foxes have holes but I’ve no place to lay
my head.” Some invitation! On your way,
idealist; perhaps some other day.
Tobias Stanislas Haller BSG
December 18, 2006
“a clear-sighted companion.... If you are passionate about the vitality of today’s church, I encourage you to accompany him on his mystagogical excursion into the liturgical landscape. You will rediscover a familiar place rife with fresh provisions planted by the God who longs to feed our deepest hungers and hopes.” —Jay Koyle, chair, Faith, Worship and Ministry of The Anglican Church of Canada
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2 comments:
Lovely poem, Tobias. How many times have I given that answer?
...and appropriate for the times.
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