November here.

" I said to the LORD, 'You are my Lord,
apart from you I have no good thing. " (Psalm 16.2)

Dear folk out there. (Are you?)

My mother wrote to me
that God has all the gifts I don't
and will supply where I lack.

I was trying to keep Him out
of a world where I didn't want to be;

I believed He was terribly disappointed
with whatever I was and am.

Rilke wrote: "I love you, gentlest of ways,
who ripened us as we wrestled with you."

I don't know how this is going to happen,
I don't know how.
But I love the little people,
and somehow, yes, must train and shape them for a classroom life,
(though what I want is to take them out running in fields, where your feet get caught in mud, and your fingers grip the grass, and your eyes see only God-made things for miles and miles and miles.)

I am so weary, and changed by the weariness.

I wrote yesterday a small, imperfect song. well, two and some bits. Here
is one, because I don't know
what else
to say. :

Fire of holiness,
Are you neat and mild,
Are you stoic and sensible
Or raging and wild ?

In the sweetest sense, You're wild,
all the beautiful I have ever known.
Vaster than my mind can reach
wider than my vision's field.

Deeper is Your loveliness and juster is Your justice,
Sweeter is Your sweetness than a word can hold. ....

From your fire I draw mildness,
In your fire it is found.
In what appears to me as wildness,
Peace and steadiness resound...

Deeper is Your loveliness and just-er is Your justice,
Sweeter is Your sweetness than a word can hold.

Part of fire, yes, their calmness; part of fire, my heart's cry.
Do your work to shape me, change me --
only You know who am I.

Holiness higher than all our words,
Not 'calm' or 'lively,'
but both, and more,
Teach which,
and when,
and what
to be
to me, walking here bound in by either and or.

Deeper is Your loveliness and juster is Your justice,
Sweeter is Your sweetness than a word can hold.