poetry

Ooh, I wonder
What is to come, out of this darkness
I’ve been moving moving moving moving through the darkness…
I wonder when the light is cracking open..
(Wonder by S. Nutting/ K. Longaker)

The first verse to the song Wonder by Ma’Muse poses questions about the “dark night of the soul” that most of us experience at some point in our lives. Whether it is melancholy, depression, fear, or grief that grips us, we wonder: When is this going to end? What is going to come out of this darkness? What comes next? When will we see relief from our suffering? When will there be more light than dark?

The song continues.

I thought this candle had long gone out…
But today today today today I can see
There’s still a flickering flickering

Today I saw a flickering, just a little light cracking open, after some weeks of darkness.

I had just finished reading a new poem from Ana Lisa de Jong, when Wonder came up in my Spotify playlist. The poem, Ceaseless Wonders, offers insights into when light may come.

CEASELESS WONDERS
Wonders never cease,
while we are sleeping
or awake in rumination
wonders are not ceasing
Wonders will not cease
until wonders are not needed,
meanwhile wonders are the signpost
to the Wonderful.
Wonders in the breath,
which has exhaled us into being,
and wonder in the
breath that keeps us living.
Wonder in the breath
of the fresh new morning,
the birds who sing of the
restoration of creation.
Wonders will not cease
while time keeps unfolding.
Time left ahead
assures us of wonder’s returning.
And wonders never cease
as darkness precedes the morning,
the morning star
points us to light’s dawning,
and the rounding sun,
which hardly falters in its momentum,
though wonders seem far flung
and courage is ebbing.

-Ana Lisa de Jong, Living Tree Poetry, February 2025

The synchronistic moment of the song and poem coming together was itself, a glimpse of light, my 2025 word of the year. Experiencing synchronicity is a holy surprise, an inkling of something more, a nudge to pay attention, to look and listen deeply. Perhaps this is a glimpse, a reminder, that darkness will pass with time because darkness always precedes the morning. Wonders will not cease/while time keeps unfolding. Time left ahead/assures us of wonder’s returning.

During this time of darkness, wonders never cease, are not ceasing, will not cease. The wonder is our breath. We can use our breath as prayer—the literal inhale and exhale, that takes us from one moment to the next, from this day to the next, from night into morning. We continue to

Burn burn burn burn on the inside
Burn burn burn burning like a bright light
Burn burn burn burn on the inside
This light’s still burning, burning bright
I thought this candle had long gone out…
but today i can see, there’s more than a flickering

Our longing for hope, peace, and light becomes the prayer. And in times of darkness, our purpose is not to question our lack of courage or hope, but instead to bring wonder as fuel to burn like a bright light, to keep the flame alive. Yes, I wonder and I wonder.

It was truly a dream to visit the sacred sites of Iona on a Celtic spirituality pilgrimage to Ireland and Scotland. Getting to Iona is a pilgrimage in itself, yet the journey has been made countless times since the 7th century. Most tourists visit for only a day, like we did, traveling from the coastal town of Oban, Scotland to Craignure on the Isle of Mull, then taking an hour-long bus ride on winding, narrow roads to the other side of the island arriving at the village of Fionnphort. From there, a foot ferry delivers you to the island of Iona. The day’s last ferry departs around 4:30 in the afternoon for the two-and-a-half-hour trip back to Oban. If the ferry is missed at the end of the day, staying overnight on the island is your only option.

Both the ferry and bus ride provided tremendous views. Our bus needed to occasionally pull over to the side of the narrow roads when meeting other vehicles.

Iona is the birthplace of Christianity in Scotland where St. Columba established an Abbey in 563. It might seem like a lot to get to this holy isle, only three miles long and one and a half miles wide, but walking the ground where St. Columba did 1500 years ago, where Benedictines established a monastery in 1204, the place where artists, sculptors, and writers have been inspired for centuries, is a holy, singular experience.

While I longed for more time to wander the beaches and secret coves, the time allowed for visits only to the most well-known sites closest to the ferry landing. Still, our pilgrimage group was able to participate in a meaningful community prayer for peace and reconciliation at the Abbey and visit the Nunnery ruins, St. Oran’s chapel, museums, gardens, and quaint shops including a bookstore, a “must-see” destination on my mini-pilgrimage to Iona.

Months earlier, when I was planning the sites to visit in Ireland, a Benedictine Oblate friend, poet and photographer, Pat Leyko Connelly, reached out about some of her favorite experiences from her trips to Ireland. Pat and I connected through our shared love of Benedictine and Celtic spirituality, and she was generous in sharing tips about places to see in Ireland. When she learned I would also visit Oban and Iona in Scotland, she exclaimed that I must meet with her poet friend Kenneth Steven. Pat could not say enough wonderful things about his poetry. She also hoped I could bring back his newest book “Atoms of Delight” from the bookstore on Iona for her. Kenneth and I exchanged several messages and hoped to connect when I was there (unfortunately, our schedules didn’t allow it, but hopefully there is a next time!)

Visiting a bookstore is one of my favorite things to do, and I was just as excited about browsing book titles on this holy ground as praying in the abbey. The little bookstore was at the end of the walking trail, Sràid nam Marbh (‘Street of the Dead’,) where pilgrims have been walking for centuries. I quickly found THE book, took a photo of it to send to Pat, found another book by John Philip Newell for my friend Ellen, packed both of them away for my journey back to Oban, and later loaded them with all the souvenirs and other books I had purchased for the journey back home.