There was nothing in the Virgin's soul
that belonged to the Virgin --
no word, no thought, no image, not intent.
She was a pure, transparent pool reflecting
God, only God.
She held Love's burnished day; she held Love's night
of planet-glow on shade inscrutable.
God was her sky and she who mirrored God
became Love's firmament.
When I so much as turn my thoughts toward her
my spirit is enisled in her repose.
And when I gaze into her selfless depths
an anguish in me grows
to hold such blueness and to hold such fire.
I pray to hollow out my earth and be
filled with these waters of transparency.
I think that one could die of this desire,
seeing oneself dry earth or stubborn sod.
Oh, to become a pure pool like the Virgin,
water that lost the semblances of water
and was a sky like God.
~ "The Pool of God" from SELECTED POETRY by Jessica Powers
At first silence had seemed a deprivation, a symbol of an
unwanted isolation. I had resented the solitude of my life
and fought it. But gradually the enveloping quiet became
a positive element, almost a presence, which settled
comfortably and caressingly around me like a soft shawl.
It seemed to hum, gently but melodiously, and to
orchestrate the ideas that I was contending with, until
they started to sing too, to vibrate and reveal an
unexpected resonance. After a time I found that I could
almost listen to the silence, which had a dimension all of
its own...I discovered that I felt at home and alive in the
silence. Silence itself had become my teacher.