Ronnie Smith

The Utterance of Baile Shear

Here was a foam-white pup, born of a gray seal
getting all grown up on mother’s thick milk
nodding into naps at low tide on a seaweed bed
combing the sea back into itself without thinking

Miles of blond sand salt the winds and waves
sifting the sea back into itself without thinking
formed by this holy three—Wind, Sand, and Wave
wingbeats above fanning, then gliding the invisible

Rain columns pillar their dark cloud mansion
Halos of sunlight arouse this sculpted sky
pouring the sea back into itself without thinking
widening the mouth of history’s swallowed things

Here stood a soul, blown by God to this coast
walking nomadic strands where footprints disappear
drifting an endless surf that one day laps the sun
yawning the sea back into itself without thinking

 

Gougane Barra of Saint Finbarr

Before the River Lee circles the Great Island
its mountain stream tills a lake of quiet power
where the soul can adjourn the drama
of unceasing senses from the stage of itself

Miracle steeped this hour on higher ground
by the slippings and slaps of water
by the friction and calm of air
by dank stone and pigment of bark
in a teakettle of subtleties
whose vapors envelop
my garden of intimacy with God

Without your pilgrimage
without your fast in hollow cell
without the borderlands that either contain us
or draw us to drink of wild springs that await,
the eyes will not grasp the woolly clouds
that ascend and descend through lassos of sun
brandishing never-lands blue

For even when fishermen in boats are blown
they heave a net to haul treasure from the sea
And why I followed; because you cast you
to God’s silent winds of nothingness and towed

 

Saint Baya and Saint Maura (c. 9th Century)

They were two holy women we lost to that age
Where they talked about fog on the river of stars
There is no one to claim the same dusty abyss
There’s a robot on Mars, but not one that we know

Where they talked about fog on the river of stars
Is the island of Cumbrae repeating its sound
There’s a robot on Mars, but not one that we know
Sending verse to crustaceans emerged from the brine

Is the island of Cumbrae repeating its sound?
How the trees and the creatures still dialect God
Sending verse to crustaceans emerged from the brine
On the shores where they slink and the waters drink glow

How the trees and the creatures still dialect God
For two saints heard them chatting despite the bright hush
On the shores where they slink and the waters drink glow
The Eternal tends silos that someone must seal

And a saint hears them chatting despite the bright hush
Of these two holy women we lost to that age
The Eternal tends silos that someone must seal
There is no one to claim the same dusty abyss

 

Ronnie Smith

In recent years, meditation has gradually taken a turn in the direction of Kriya Yoga. Each morning after prayers (20 minutes), I sit and meditate 2-4 hrs. In the evening it is the same format, but usually shorter in duration. There is an exalted and humbling intimacy in this work, which I wouldn't trade for anything. I am grateful for this time that we find ourselves in, with the relative space in the day to practice this meditation. My religion is Catholicism, whose mystical roots are quite compatible with prayer and meditation.

Ronnie Smith was born in Udine, Italy, and grew up in Chicago, Illinois, and Baltimore, Maryland. He attended Loyola University Maryland (B.A.) and the University of Maryland. Ron played pro basketball in Europe before entering the U.S. Air Force in 1983 to fly C-130 transport aircraft. He has traveled the world as a professional aviator, bringing a spiritual dimension to his writing through this inspiration. After many years flying in the polar regions, he became the in-theater Commander of Operation DEEP FREEZE supporting scientific research from 2005-2008. His poetry has appeared in The New York Times, The Wisconsin Review, and The Evansville Review, among others. He resides in St. Louis, Missouri. A student of the Christian Mystical tradition and Catholic faith, Ronnie’s writings, art, and paintings capture the esoteric truths of the universal Christian faith through the medium of archetypal and mystical symbol.

More on Ronnie Smith’s work can be found on our Links page.


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