Doctor, you say there are no haloes
around the streetlights in Paris
and what I see is an aberration
caused by old age, an affliction.
I tell you it has taken me all my life
to arrive at the vision of gas lamps as angels,
to soften and blur and finally banish
the edges you regret I don't see,
to learn that the line I called the horizon
does not exist and sky and water,
so long apart, are the same state of being.
Fifty-four years before I could see
Rouen cathedral is built
of parallel shafts of sun,
and now you want to restore
my youthful errors: fixed
notions of top and bottom,
the illusion of three-dimensional space,
wisteria separate
from the bridge it covers...
I will not return to a universe
of objects that don't know each other,
as if islands were not the lost children
of one great continent....
Doctor,
if only you could see
how heaven pulls earth into its arms
and how infinitely the heart expands
to claim this world, blue vapor without end.
In centering, we begin to leave aside our own thoughts and images and feelings and to make space for the Spirit to begin to operate in us through the gifts. Outside the time of prayer we begin--and often others begin before us--to perceive the presence of these wonderful gifts in our daily lives. These are the fruits by which we judge the "tree" of our centering prayer. It is only through these fruits and the healing they represent that we can know the spirit is working in our lives through this deep, quiet communion with Love at the center of our being.