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This past fall on my birthday, I came upon a large boulder just off the trail in the mountains. It was about 4 feet high by 4 1/2 feet wide, and to my way of thinking, it had the shape of a human heart. The perimeter of that stone heart seemed fairly intact, yet the center was split open and a beam of sunlight penetrated the very core all the way through one side of the granite to the other.
Sometimes one can stumble upon something and sense its significance without really knowing why it is important. Such is one way of discovery when the dawning and discernment come later in time, perhaps at the right time.
Fast forward a month or so in this Northern Hemisphere, when the sky steadily darkens toward the Solstice and the cold burgeoning winter is already breathing its chesty cough of ice, snow, and wind. The darkness can be harsh and indiscriminate, especially for those without a home or refuge, and for those who have simply lost their way.
In the Christian tradition, Advent embraces this darkened season as a preparation for the Light to come, in the celebration of Christ at Christmas and to his Second Coming at the end of times.
In Dante’s “Divine Comedy,” we see the poet Virgil and Dante climbing up the steep and treacherous mountain terraces of the Purgatorio out from the Inferno where no light shines. It is this ascent toward the top of the mountain when the light overcomes the darkness. This is Dante’s penitent journey of purification as his soul prepares to enter heaven (Paradiso).
So often, the darkness brings a stillness, if not an introspection, that includes the elements of paradox as so many poets and prophets have intimated across the ages.
In “A Prayer at Winter Solstice,” the poet Dana Gioia explores the redemptive value of suffering in dark times as a means to “make us spiritually alert.”
Prayer at Winter Solstice
Blessed is the road that keeps us homeless./
Blessed is the mountain that blocks our way./
Blessed are hunger and thirst, loneliness and all forms of desire./
Blessed is the labor that exhausts us without end./
Blessed are the night and the darkness that blind us./
Blessed is the cold that teaches us to feel./
Blessed are the cat, the child, the cricket, and the crow/.
Blessed is the hawk devouring the hare./
Blessed are the sinner and the saint who redeem each other./
Blessed are the dead, calm in their perfection./
Blessed is the pain that humbles us./
Blessed is the distance that bars our joy./
Blessed is this shortest day that makes us long for light./
Blessed is the love that in losing we discover./
—Dana Gioia
And in the much hypothesized works of poet Robert Frost, his poem on the Winter Solstice, “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening” is worth considering. I find the paused traveler weighing the merits of whether or not to continue on his journey “Between the woods and frozen lake/ The darkest evening of the year/ as he resolves his inner turmoil in the last stanza:
The woods are lovely, dark and deep,/
But I have promises to keep,/
And miles to go before I sleep,/
And miles to go before I sleep./
Again, in Frost’s poem “The Wood-Pile,” we find the speaker emotionally torn:
…”I will turn back from here/
No, I will go on farther—and we shall see.”/
The hard snow held me, save where now and then/
One foot went through. The view was all in lines/
Straight up and down of tall slim trees/
Too much alike to mark or name a place by/
So as to say for certain I was here/
Or somewhere else: I was just far from home./
Scholars have intuited the deeper nuance of the words sleep in Frost’s first poem above and home in the second. We know that Frost was no stranger to personal loss and sorrow. Perhaps the speaker in these poems experiences mixed feelings of despair, even death, faith, the afterlife and eternity.
But anyone who has ever struggled with limited vision and a lack of understanding in knowing the complete picture of a thing, also knows that sometimes things take time. And waiting is a lot of what Advent is about. We wait in the darkness for the light to come.
The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; Upon those who dwelt in the land of gloom a light has shone.
—Isaiah 9:1
In Denise Levertov’s poem “Annunciation,” Mary, the young virgin, displays immense courage in her own free will when so much remained a mystery to her:
But we are told of obedience. No one mentions/
courage./The engendering Spirit/
did not enter her without consent./God waited./
She was free/
to accept or to refuse, choice/
integral to humanness./
And the beautiful promise in the prophetic words of Isaiah, written 700 years before the birth of Christ, speaks of a royal child and king as a sign of salvation who is to be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, and Prince of Peace. (Isaiah 9:5) The child born of the holy Virgin is to be called Emmanuel, “God with us” (Isaiah 7:14).
And later in the book of Isaiah, the breathtaking promise of God reveals divine renewal without the suffering of the past in a glorious new creation.
For behold, I create new heavens and a new earth;
and the former things shall not be remembered, or come into mind.
—Isaiah 65:17
I hope this photo of the stone heart with a crack of light might resonate with a few kindred spirits. That heart-rock caught my attention because in a way, it was my heart—my stony heart. This Advent I remember the ancient holy prophecies, the wise words of poets and sages, and I rest a while in the darkness to ponder that beautiful light from God that breaks through at exactly the right time. For all who have experienced the bleak exile of loneliness, the depressive vault of anger and/or regret, or have ever turned away from God in some way, take heart. Light really does break through the darkness.
Blessings to all in a journey of discovery and renewal as we proceed through Advent, through the Winter Solstice, and to the great joy of the Christ babe born to us at Christmas. May your hearts be full of hope, joy, and great love.
Thanks for stopping by. ♥
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http://imagejournal.org/article/conversation-dana-gioia/
Dante, 2006. Dante’s Divine Comedy. Chartwell Books, Inc.
Denise Levertov, 2013. The collected Poems of Denise Levertov. New Directions Books.
https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/44276/the-wood-pile
https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/42891/stopping-by-woods-on-a-snowy-evening