A KIND OF BEAUTY

(aka On last looking into Facebook Marketplace)

I’m angry, and no
Gustav Klimt-style
Cats, painted in black
And white, can appease me.

I detest the leather boots
In cream, tan and brown,
With three-inch stiletto heels
That would dent my
Floorboards, and the fact
The kauri has already
Been pocked by rough trade.

I loathe the black-lace
Collar on a tiger-printed nightie
From a popular PJs brand,
And palettes of nude and
Winter-shaded eyeshadow
That would suit me and,
Though barely touched … well, 
You don’t know 
What you might catch;

The blue-and-white
Check on fabric covering 
A chaise longue that is 
Framed by dark brown timber,
Which should be white;
The secondhand
Harry Potter books that
I will never read again –
Though I had such affection
The first time round.

I begrudge the British racing green
Jaguar priced at $25,200,
And black Velcro – cap V? – 
Sandals listed beside it; the
Cat enclosure I’ll never buy for our
Housebound kitten – 
At least the natives are safe
From her pouncy, zooming hours:
Equal part astounding and nuisance.

I’m disturbed by 
Everything I see on
Marketplace,
And enraged by my
Desire to look, for distraction
Or pleasure or false economy
Of interest,
In this world, this life
I half-live between my
Bank balance and 
Broken dreams.

Give me enough and 
Nothing more. Give me
Making-ends-meet in
Frugal measure with
Scant spare change.
Give me hours for work
And toil – at home or 
The coal face –
And a bone weariness
To sleep at night.
Give me no further
Indulgence of food or
Service, wine or
Chattel. Give me
Empty hands to
Greet my brothers and sisters,
Feel the breeze and
Water running in the
Sink; give me
Empty plates that bore
Just enough to keep the
Proverbial from the door;
Give an empty mind for
Thoughts to pass without
My “self” attached.
Give an empty heart
That treasures nought save
The gifts bestowed by God, 
And nature,
With such tremendous 
Generosity that
I clutch my chest and
Shudder – in awe and obeisance.

Written on the third day of Lent 2026.
Something else to ponder:

The Gift of Understanding, Part 3

This clear darkness of God is the purity of heart. Christ spoke of in the sixth Beatitude. Beati mundo corde, quoniam ipsi Deum videbunt. And this purity of heart brings at least a momentary deliverance from images and concepts, from the forms and shadows of all the things human beings desire with their human appetites. It brings deliverance even from the feeble and elusive analogies we ordinarily used to arrive at God – not that it denies them, for they are true as far as they go, but it makes them temporarily useless by fulfilling them all in the sure grasp of a deep and penetrating experience.

In the vivid darkness of God within us there sometimes come deep movements of love that deliver us entirely, for a moment, from our old burden of selfishness, and number us among those little children of whom is the Kingdom of Heaven.

And when God allows us to fall back into our own confusion of desires and judgments and temptations, we carry a scar over the place where that joy exulted for a moment in our hearts.

The scar burns us. The sore wound aches within us, and we remember that we have fallen back into what we are not, and are not yet allowed to remain where God could have us belong. We long for the place God has destined for us and weep with desire for the time when this pure poverty will catch us and hold us in its liberty and never let us go, when we will never fall back from the Paradise of the simple and the little children into the forum of prudence where the wise of this world go up and down in sorrow and set their traps for a happiness that cannot exist.

This is the gift of understanding: we pass out of ourselves into the joy of emptiness, of nothingness, in which there are no longer any particular objects of knowledge is given but only God‘s truth without limit, without defect, without stain. This clean light, which tastes of Paradise, is beyond all pride, beyond comment, beyond proprietorship, beyond solitude. It is in all, and for all. It is the true light that shines in everyone, in “every human being coming into this world.” It is the light of Christ, “Who stands in the midst of us and we know Him not.”

~ Father Thomas “Louis” Merton, from New Seeds of Contemplation, Chapter 3