The following poem has always served for me as a reminder of the immanence of Christ, especially in the men and women we encounter in our communities of faith and everyday lives. I believe that we as Catholic bloggers and commenters–myself included–need to be particularly mindful of this truth, expressed so beautifully (and with near child-like wonder) in the poem’s final sestet.
AS kingfishers catch fire, dragonflies dráw fláme;
As tumbled over rim in roundy wells
Stones ring; like each tucked string tells, each hung bell’s
Bow swung finds tongue to fling out broad its name;
Each mortal thing does one thing and the same:
Deals out that being indoors each one dwells;
Selves—goes itself; myself it speaks and spells,
Crying Whát I do is me: for that I came.
Í say móre: the just man justices;
Kéeps gráce: thát keeps all his goings graces;
Acts in God’s eye what in God’s eye he is—
Chríst—for Christ plays in ten thousand places,
Lovely in limbs, and lovely in eyes not his
To the Father through the features of men’s faces.
–Gerard Manley Hopkins
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