“If what my soul doth feel sometimes, my soul might ever feel!“

Poetry is powerful. These words of George Herbert speak to the heights of feeling that human hearts can soar to and yearn to reach.

Poetic effort has been described as “Seeing beauty and saying beautifully”. Most people see beauty. Few try to describe it. Even less take time to express their delight in a way that might stir similar affections in others.

And this is the best poetry for me. Those assembled words which, once read, aren’t simply words of description, but speak of personal experience and delight, rich with expression and enjoyment. Where you could even begin to consider delighting in the thing yourself.

CS Lewis wrote that “It is not out of compliment that lovers keep on telling one another how beautiful they are; the delight is incomplete till it is expressed“. Perhaps poetry can help us to see our own delight brought to completion.

So poetry is not a vain exercise in semantics. It can be a powerful tool to help communicate your love of, and delight in something or someone. And when this someone is God, it can become an instrument of praise and worship which can draw others in to see something of God for themselves. That’s my hope anyway.

The Incredulity of Saint Thomas by Caravaggio (1601).

This painting depicts the sceptical apostle Thomas who said “Unless I see the nail marks in his hands and put my finger where the nails were, and put my hand into his side, I will not believe.” John 20:25.

We are all like Thomas. We need the mind-blowing reality of Jesus’ resurrection to be made real to us if we are to believe. It is ok to question. Ok to be curious and to have doubts. I like his expression of curiosity and dawning realisation as he explores his own.

So we need to hear and read and see gospel truths for ourselves. And God can and does use poetry as one way to communicate and express the wonder and reality of these things to our human hearts.

If, when the doors are shut, Thou drawest near,
Only reveal those hands, that side of Thine;
We know to-day what wounds are, have no fear,
Show us Thy Scars, we know the countersign.
The other gods were strong; but Thou wast weak;
They rode, but Thou didst stumble to a throne;
But to our wounds only God’s wounds can speak,
And not a god has wounds, but Thou alone.

From “Jesus of the scars” by Edward Shillito (1872-1948)

The poet is here beholding the mystery of Jesus’ scars. This resurrected God-man. Why would he be scarred? What do His scars say to ours? Poems can ask as well as answer questions but they invite us to join them in wondering and pondering.

And this poem is a prayer too. A pleading adoration you could say. I feel a stirring when I read the honesty of things like this and my hope in sharing my own is that some might be similarly stirred.