Mystical and Natural (Theology) Shall Kiss
A friend recently turned me on to this contemporary Catholic poet, and so I purchased Roses For the Most High on Kindle. This work is nothing short of stunning. Colonel Ronald Smith’s name belongs with Emily Dickinson, Walt Whitman, and Robert Frost. One can read just a few lines from Roses for the Most High and hardly disagree:
“I contemplated mantric shores
and living mist upon the moors
when breath of heather blushed the lea
medieval chants by ancient sea
would reeve galactic jewels that kite
the indigo of endless night”
I’m going to push the envelope a bit farther. Smith’s ability, to craft poetry that brings readers deeper into an understanding of our Faith, is truly inspired. Perhaps his military experience, combined with a brilliant understanding of Mystical Theology and the lives of the saints, contributes to making his reflections so captivating. Natural Theologists will appreciate Smith’s way of conveying awe of the beauty of God’s creation as could only be attained through the very unique position of an Air Force pilot who found himself flying in the north and south Polar Regions.
Colonel Smith is a fascinating person. I found this article about him:
His poems belong in the curriculum of every Catholic high school. Seton Homeschool, Memoria Press, Classically Catholic Memory, Homeschool Connections, Kolbe Academy, and other traditional and classical Catholic educators: this poetry belongs in your high school literature requirements, right beside Joyce Kilmer, Hilaire Belloc and G. K. Chesterton. I fully expect my grandchildren and their grandchildren will one day be memorizing Smith’s words as part of a classical Catholic education.
Smith’s book starts are on Amazon and also https://www.westbowpress.com/Bookstore/BookDetail.aspx?BookId=SKU-001128600.
Click here for Author website .
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There Was A Little Girl…
How did that old nursery rhyme go? I’ll be honest. I couldn’t remember past “right in the middle of her forehead.” I had to Google it. Turns out, it’s a poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow! Ha! Who knew? Here’s the rest: