A Great Poem

I can title this post as I did because the poem in question is not mine. This is a poem I first encountered in the 1990's while serving a church in New York. It was the poem that, for me, opened up the way in which poetic language can convey powerful truth. It was the first poem I have read that I wish I had written. It is by the late R.S. Thomas, who was an Anglican clergyman in Wales. The poem is entitled "I was Vicar of Large Things"

I was vicar of large things

in a small parish. Small-minded

I will not say, there were depths

in some of them I shrank back

from, wells that the word "God"

fell into and died away,

and for all I know is still

falling. Who goes for water

to such must prepare for a long

wait. Their eyes looked at me

and were the remains of flowers

on an old grave. I was there,

I felt, to blow on ashes

that were too long cold. Often,

when I thought they were about

to unbar to me, the draught

out of their empty places

came whistling so that I wrapped

myself in the heavier clothing

of my calling, speaking of light and love

in the thickening shadows of their kitchens.