Discalced Carmelite Friars

Province of St. Therese

Poet and Contemplative

“From the abundance of his spirit [the poet] pours out secrets and mysteries rather than rational explanation” (Prologue, The Spiritual Canticle).

“In contemplation God teaches the soul very quietly and secretly, without its knowing how, without the sound of words” (Chapter 39, The Spiritual Canticle).

In the spirit of St. John of the Cross, this blog reflects on the contemplative experience and the poetic experience, sometimes separately and distinctly, sometimes in common, as mutually enlightening.

I will also post to this blog, from time to time, my own poetry, with a short interpretive note attached.

~ Fr. Bonaventure Sauer, OCD

Seven Conversation Poems – Part 6

VI.Recurring DreamsI am lying still, buried in deep grass, and a herd of buffaloFlows towards me on the plain, then parts like waterOn either side of rock. My peace is so profoundThat their own impenetrable gaze and heavy treadRespect me as a brother, as a god perhaps. And so, like a god,I sleep. Then, suddenly, I wake; what holds me hereReleases me as well—the world flitting upward like a lark,And
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Seven Conversation Poems – Part 4

IV.Ready for Omnipotence The sun is sinking as the earth, far away, receives it;The two recede still further, off into darkness. DuskFloats upward, weightless, happy, a last breathMixing with the freedom of the stars. Time expires Into timelessness, and we feel it, this departure—Like the lifting of August that is September, Like the vastness of
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Seven Conversation Poems - Part 2

     II.From Youth to AgeI wrote poem after poem.  Amazing the energy I had then,Where today there remains only the balmy stirringsOf music floating like low clouds over lush grass.    *Is it true that anger now moves me as love once did?Is it true that I have grown that old?  I speakOf righteous anger, of course.  For me there’s no other kind.It’s
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Five Advent Poems – Part 3

III.Our Lady of GuadalupeIs it true that you were here, that you once stood where stone sits coldlyOn stone?  That your feet drew the chill about them like slippers?You left leaving no footprints behind, except when, yearAfter year, we kneel to press our lips to the ground, our flesh to this clay,Our hunger to your agelessness.Is it true you neither smile nor frown, riveted as you areTo the uncertain
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Prayer and Sabbath Rest - Part 1

        You might think I've been on sabbatical these past few months, and you'd have good reason, given my absence from this blog.  But I haven't.  Nonetheless, I have been learning something in my absence, something valuable.  And here's what I've learned.  It's difficult to keep a blog going when you're on the road for long stretches of time. 
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