Pax, by D H Lawrence

Lent, Day 17

All that matters is to be at one with the living God
to be a creature in the house of the God of Life.

Like a cat asleep on a chair
at peace, in peace
and at one with the master of the house, with the mistress,
at home, at home in the house of the living,
sleeping on the hearth, and yawning before the fire.

Sleeping on the hearth of the living world
yawning at home before the fire of life
feeling the presence of the living God
like a great reassurance
a deep calm in the heart
a presence
as of the master sitting at the board
in his own and greater being,
in the house of life.

Amazed that D. H. Lawrence wrote a poem like this. The poems this week are about inhabiting our place in the world fully and comfortably - so different from the agonized poems of last week.

Surely there is nothing that more spells relaxation and being at home in your own skin than a cat, especially one asleep. Marmite obliged for most of the day in a variety of places, but this one with the flowers (given by a friend and perfuming the whole house) on our dining table won.

Don't think I'm a very relaxed person - always seems there's so much to do, and can one be at peace in a world with so much suffering? But maybe, deep inside, there IS great reassurance knowing that the face at the heart of our world is one of love and total capability.

Most of the day choosing, editing and putting into one place, photos of my Mum, to illustrate the account I'll give at the celebration of her life next week. A lot of joy and happy memories.