This week’s poem is by the English writer and scholar Kathleen Raine (1908– 2003). Initially studying natural sciences, her life’s work was in the field of poetry and the spiritual dimensions of life and literature, including the spiritual traditions of India.

The Instrument

Death, and it is broken,
The delicate apparatus of the mind,
Tactile, sensitive to light, responsive to sound,
The soul’s instrument, tuned to earth’s music,
Vibrant to all the waves that break on the shores of the world.

Perhaps the soul only puts out a hand,
Antennae or pseudopodium, an extended touch
To receive the spectrum of colour, and the lower octave of pain,
Reaches down into the waves of nature
As a child dips an arm into the sea,
And death is a withdrawal of attention
That has discovered all it needs to know,
Or, if not all, enough for now,
If not enough, something to bear in mind.

And it may be that soul extends
Organs of sense
Tuned to waves here scarcely heard, or only
Heard distantly, in dreams,
Worlds other otherwise than as stars,
Asteroids, and suns are distant, in natural space.
The voices of angels reach us
Even now, and we touch one another
Sometimes, in love, with hands that are not hands,
With immaterial substance, with a body
Of interfusing thought, a living eye,
Spirit that passes unhindered through walls of stone
And walks upon those waves that we call ocean.

Poems for These Times

‘Poems for These Times’ is a special collection of poetry offered in response to the Covid-19 pandemic. It is intended as a way of sustaining us, and to give us something on which to meditate together during these difficult and challenging times.

There will be just one poem each week, so that we can really stay with what is offered. We can read it – perhaps aloud – to ourselves or to any companions in our isolation, and sense the vibrations through our whole being. For poetry has the power to affect us on every level – body, mind, heart and soul. It has a magic, which, in the words of poet Adrienne Rich:

“… goes back very far: the rune; the chant; the incantation; the spell; the kenning; sacred words; the naming of the child; the plant, the insect, the ocean, the configuration of stars, the snow, the sensation in the body… The physical reality of the human voice.”

Of course, not every poem will appeal to everyone – that is inevitable. But there is also the possibility that staying with something that does not immediately appeal can be stimulating and helpful. Experience suggests that sustained attention and contemplation of a poem’s music, words and thoughts can be deeply rewarding.

It would be lovely to share any responses and thoughts you may have through our comments section below.

Barbara Vellacott