Scalpay – Outer Hebrides

A HIGH BLUE DAY ON SCALPAY
This is the summit of contemplation, and
no art can touch it
blue, so blue, the far-out archipelago
and the sea shimmering, shimmering
no art can touch it, the mind can only
try to become attuned to it
to become quiet and space itself out, to
become open and still, unworlded
knowing itself in the diamond country, in
the ultimate unlettered light. Kenneth White 1936-2023

Psalm Eighty-Eight Blues
Lord, when I’m speechless
when something – not just sorrow
but under that – a dull, numb, nameless dreich
about the heart I hardly seem to have,
when this afflicts me,
when hope’s been cancelled,
when the pilot light of me’s put out,
when every reflex and response
has been extinguished,

send word, snowdrop, child, light. – Diana Hendry 1941-

The three photos above, are of Scalpay, an Outer Hebridean island just north west of Skye, show all too much beauty for such a small place! “No art can touch it” is a repeated phrase in the first poem. Art cannot capture it and the eye finds it hard to behold it, but there it sits amidst wind and wave. Kenneth White’s poem calls us to be still and urges us in contemplation, both of which we need in good measure amidst the daily chaos of life at present. Diana Hendry’s poem is more like a prayer and she describes her blue mood – “when hope’s been cancelled,” I have certainly felt these blues, however no matter how hard it might seem to be, hope is always present and our task more than ever is to seek this hope, this presence of the Divine and it might take a little while hence the line spacing for the last line – in word, snowdrop, child or light. May it be so for you. Please don’t settle for Psalm 88, read Psalm 89 and Psalm 90 and you will discover hope has not been cancelled. Both these poems can be found in the recent publication Scottish Religious Poetry from the sixth century to the present – An Anthology. – More from this marvelous collection will surely follow!

Prayer:
My faith
Hangs by a thread.
It always has.
No point
Spending long
Going over it.
Worrying,
Will it snap?
Will it go?
Is it the wrong
Kind of faith?
Better just to take it
And sew. (poem by Robert Crawford from Scottish Religious Poetry)