POETRY
FOR
AUTUMN

The Habit of Redemption

I have felt the world shrivel to days

Beckoning me

Into a hell of indifference


Until I found

The habit of redemption

Living in my mind.


It breathed in the morning

As I wrote a letter

To a woman in mourning


For her dead brother

He was sixty-six

And rare.


His days touched by imagination.

He died in October

Tending his garden.


It reached the deepest part of me

When the middle-aged man

Raking leaves turned quickly


And said ‘how are you?’

Autumn died at his feet

But the day was new.


I would say nothing about all this,

Never bother to mention

The moment’s metamorphosis


Were it not that hell gapes

At every step.

What I am given is not a means of escape


But of confrontation,

The truest education

That I know.


Moment that is all moments

Be with me when I grasp

A little of the meaning of transience,


A hint of the infernal night.

Come in the shape of the blade of grass

Stuck to the side of my boot


Or a kind word from stranger or friend

Or a yellow shedding from an old tree

That will not bend.

BRENDAN KENNELLY

Success

In Memory of Christina Schmidt


Success is speaking words of praise,

In cheering other people’s ways.

In doing just the best you can,

With every task and every plan.

It’s silence when your speech would hurt,

Politeness when your neighbour’s curt.

It’s deafness when the scandal flows,

And sympathy with others’ woes.

It’s loyalty when duty calls,

It’s courage when disaster falls.

It’s patience when the hours are long,

It’s found in laughter and in song.

It’s in the silent time of prayer,

In happiness and in despair.

In all of life and nothing less,

We find the thing we call success.

AUTHOR UNKNOWN

The Spirit Level

Let nothing disturb you

Let nothing frighten you

All things are passing

God never changes

Patience obtains all things

She who possesses God lacks nothing

God alone suffices.

ST TERESA OF AVILA