Nomad Heart

Dan McCarthy

Nomad Heart

for Kevin Page


Sometimes looking to the cold wintry stars

you can feel the planet move as it whirls

in the flux of the galaxy, the whole

path of the milky way buzzing like a hive.


They say it’s better to journey than arrive—

halting being the usual rigmarole

of move-along-shift. Sometimes the soul

just craves a place to rest, safe from earthly wars.


The city lights come on in twos and threes

and leaves are freezing hard in mucky pools,

cars are stuck in jams or droning home.


If we’re not brought to our knees, we’ll fall to our knees

in thanks, in praise, in trust, in hope—the rule

of law mapped clear on heaven’s ample dome.



Paula Meehan,  fr."Painting Rain"

 

 

Meehan's description of looking up at the stars  - did you recognize how she felt? This is the thing about poetry, it shows us the things that flow between us, strangers, friends, enemies. How many of us have looked up at the night sky, and thought we felt the earth moving in its orbit, saw the stars and the more we looked, the more we saw? How small, how small we feel! And yet, we have our part. Our place. We, stars and cars, cities and planets, moving together on a journey - through time and space  - to where? To what end? And is it really better to journey than to arrive? "If we're not brought to our knees, we'll fall to our knees..." Is that true? Are you thankful, hopeful, full of praise? Should you be? Is there "a rule of law mapped clear on heaven's ample dome"? Is there order and purpose and destination? What are the stars saying?