Sophia stands, golden,
calf-deep on an empty beach,
feeling the insistent tide.
Brushed by silvered fish,
it may be seaweed, jaja.
Breathing salt.
Crabs have baked
in volcanic tide pools.
Molluscs cling,
urchin tendrils sway
lightly, their march
imperceptible.
They leave soundless depths
to cook on jagged rock,
and all is as should be.
Humming, fizzing white,
incanting, lifting,
circling spiral spheres.
Om aim hreem shreem
sri matre namaha
June 2022
Sorche Berry ©2022
Category Archives: Thomas Merton
the watchman
we are all
alchemists of spirit.
watch your vessel closely
for the ch-ch-ch-changes.
from black to red,
from earth to fire,
talamh à teine
follow sophia,
her winding, fractured path,
for she will
find me, find you.
This is the Work,
and there is always
much to be done
we are ripples on the lake,
condensation, distillation,
solve et resolve,
earth to fire,
talamh à teine
Sorche Berry ©2018
Artwork by Michael Maier ©1618
Emblem XLII, Atalanta fugiens
Merton’s Cabin
Refuge and sanctuary,
safe in shimmering woods,
my splintered walls
betray a jagged path
between faith worlds
A monk with a child,
Cistercian Buddha,
doubting Thomas, all
patiently thrust in
trust with his nurse
Eternal lines written here,
safe from passing pleasant fools.
Shame I couldn’t save you
from the shock
of vanished faith
Sorche Berry ©2018
Artwork by Sorche Berry ©2018