Poetry

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My husband Ron was a poet and a philosopher. He died in January. This poem dates from last July, when he was beginning to recover from a period of very severe illness.

Isaiah 42.8
“I am the lord; that is my name!” Naming is God’s initiative and prerogative.

THE NAMING OF THINGS

God proclaims: “I know you by name”.
And Adam trod the earth from birth
Naming every plant and beast on earth.

Plucked from womb darkness, we take a name:
John, Elizabeth, Ron; a title of our own.
Words hold special magic the moment they are sown.

Remnants of time cling to words like cleavers.
We, like bumbles gleaning, gather partial meaning
In daily speech and scheming.

Philosophers probe and prattle about words,
Suggest we know far more than tongue can tell
As though beneath a Pentecostal spell.

Pentecost, if one dares believe,
Concerns a gift, a wondrous mind-shift,
A blossom-burst, a paradisian lift.

With or without the paracletean kiss
Words should be measured and treasured
As God’s special gift, a sharing of His pleasure.
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R.R.Cretchley
9.7.2005
www.thinkingpoet.co.uk

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