This collection of Madeleine L'Engle's poetry is prefaced by short meditation on prayer and poetry and how, for L'Engle, "poetry and prayer are synonymous." It's perhaps no surprise then that when L'Engle's poetry sounds like prayer it is at its best and it falters when it doesn't. With the exception of the humorous poem, "The Dragon," nearly all of the poetry in the collection not dealing with spiritual things felt mediocre and a bit out of place. However, the spiritual poetry in this collection is more than deserving of a five star review and for returned readings and contemplation.
The spiritual poetry seems to roughly fall into three categories: poems written from the perspective of biblical characters, Christmas poetry, and prayer poems. The poems that give a unique perspective given to biblical characters were creative and fresh. In particular, the poem, "The Tenth Hour" is a small masterpiece. It presents the infrequently reflected upon story of the beloved disciple John coming to terms with becoming Mother Mary's second given son as Mother Mary comes to terms with the death of her firstborn son in a truly heart-wrenchingly beautiful way. The poems, "David" and "Moses," written from their respective perspectives were also fantastic. The "Christmas" poems featured were fairly creative but, some of the imagery utilized are definitely well-worn. "Like Every Newborn," however, was fantastic with the lines, "To show his love for us, discarding power and strength. / Girded for war, humility his mighty dress, / He moves into the battle wholly weaponless." Where the collection truly shines are the prayer poems. "Within This Strange and Quickened Dust," "Epiphany," "Burn, Charity," "From St. Luke's Hospital (2)," "Annunciation," After Annunciation," "Fire by Fire," "At Communion," "Ascension, 1969," and etc... My personal two favorites were, "Word" and "Sonnet, Trinity 18." From the poem, "Word," these lines: "I, who live by words, am wordless when / I try my words in prayer. All language turns / To silence. Prayer will take my words and then / Reveal their emptiness. The stilled voice learns / To hold its peace, to listen with the heart / To silence that is joy, is adoration. / The self is shattered, all words torn apart." From the poem "Sonnet, Trinity 18," these lines: "Peace is not placidity: peace is: / The power to endure the megatron of pain / With joy, the silent thunder of release, / The ordering of Love. Peace is the atom's start, / The primal image: God within the heart."