Sharing another poem this Sunday by Anne Porter. I think this was one of the first I ever read by her and made me fall in love with her poetry.
The Icon
Here in this icon out of ancient Russia
Brown as amber the little Mother of God
Holding her infant to her cheek
Is present to us
In all her wise
And peaceful sorrow
A forest hermit painted this
They say at night his face
Lit up the snow
He befriended robbers
And often gave
The bears his bread.
Anne Porter
“You cannot be too gentle, too kind. Shun even to appear harsh in your treatment of each other. Joy, radiant joy, streams from the face of him who gives and kindles joy in the heart of him who receives. All condemnation is from the devil. Never condemn each other. We condemn others only because we shun knowing ourselves. When we gaze at our own failings, we see such a swamp that nothing in another can equal it. That is why we turn away, and make much of the faults of others.” ~ St. Seraphim
Witnesses to Hope 