"I walked on, simple and poor, while the air crumbled and broke on me generously as bread."

The Moor, R S Thomas

It was like a church to me.
I entered it on soft foot,
Breath held like a cap in the hand.
It was quiet.
What God was there made himself felt,
Not listened to, in clean colours
That brought a moistening of the eye,
In movement of the wind over grass.

There were no prayers said. But stillness
Of the heart’s passions — that was praise
Enough; and the mind’s cession
Of its kingdom. I walked on,
Simple and poor, while the air crumbled
And broke on me generously as bread.

Reading and re-reading 'The Moor' is both unsettling and reassuring. Unsettling because the poet recalls a memory of encounter with "whatever God was there", yet that brooding sense of presence seems accidental, incidental, one of those moments which are given and cannot be contrived, and when the one encountered is as yet unknown. Reassuring because throughout the poem there are clues of a grace which is both pervasive and elusive, drawing from the poet, gestures of reverence which set the mood for prayer, though prayers are neither said nor required. In the poem divine grace and human reverence drift like water-bearing mist, seeping with promise, and slowly settling over empty moorland in need of refreshment. 

The moor itself is not explicitly mentioned in the body of the poem. Instead what is described is response to the moor, a range of human feelings gathered into an inner stillness, and then rippled over by the restless presence of "whatever God was there". "The wind bloweth where it listeth, and thou hearest the sound thereof, but know not whither it cometh or whither it goeth." (John 3.8 KJV) Only near the end of the poem does the poet move, and walk on; most of the poem describes stillness, silence, and passions reducing to passivity. At the same time, and in contrast to humanly achieved quietness,  Thomas uses the same image of the moor's wild emptiness to describe what was like a church to him. Entering on soft foot may suggest unshod feet, perhaps Thomas is hinting at another wild place with holy ground.

'The Moor' compels softness of step, respect for silence, and due deference of "cap in the hand." The "breath held like a cap in the hand" is yet another biblical hint, this time to those first God-given breaths that animated the first humans; and being dependent on God for breath, the cap in hand is both respectful deference and humble asking, cap in hand.

On that first step onto the moor feelings overwhelm and tears well up at the sense of being called to attentiveness by the rippling waves of grass orchestrated by "the wind that bloweth where it listeth". The sight moves the poet to tears, perhaps of longing and loss, perhaps of gift and gratitude, because in every human life, at different times, both are the work of the heart.

How does "stillness of the heart's passions" become "praise enough"? Perhaps if, and only if, having stepped softly onto the moor,  the poet, and any one of us, take time to see, to feel, to attend to the presence that can be absence.

And that only happens when we hear the commanding imperative, "Be still and know that I am God." The "breath held" suggests an instinctive urge to silence, reinforced by the following abrupt line, "It was quiet". Imposed silence prepares the reader for that particular stillness when the heart's passions subside. Only in such stillness will God make himself felt, if at all. Incidentally Thomas was steeped in the Bible, and this poem could usefully be printed with a sidebar of biblical references, which would include Psalm 46.10 with its command "Be still and know..." as well as references to the Gospels, Genesis, Exodus and Psalms.

"The mind's cession of its kingdom" is the severe self-denying ordinance of a poet suspicious of the totalising claims of rationality, while yet being deeply interested in the intersections of science and religion, and the relation of nature to God, and the attempted rapprochement of honest doubt towards what might constitute an honest faith. But the "cession of the mind's kingdom" also recalls the warnings of Jesus about just who will enter the Kingdom of God. And it is precisely those who cede the mind's kingdom, and who thereby become as little children, hungry to learn, willing to trust and open to growth.

"I walked on, simple and poor..." is a resolution surely reminiscent of the pilgrim, the travelling troubadour, indeed the disciples in the Gospels taking no heed of clothing or money, but choosing to be simple, poor followers on the way, trudging behind the One who had called them to a "cession of the mind's kingdom" and the carrying of a cross into the Kingdom of God.

And as they walked the air crumbled and broke on them generously as bread. The Eucharist is one of the theological constants in Thomas's poetry, the central act of his priesthood, and bread a richly textured and recurring theme. In an early poem 'Bread', Thomas explored the contrasting experiences of hunger and having bread. The poem is also about prayer, and how whether we get what we pray for or no, when we rise from prayer something inexplicable as grace happens. The poem ends loudly echoing resurrection:

...rising he broke

Like sun crumbling the gold air

The live bread for the starved folk.  (Collected Poems, page 93)

Bread crumbles and is broken in order to be shared, and the Eucharist both celebrates and performs that act of self-giving in love and ministry to the people who take in their hands the crumbled bread, and discover in the generosity of bread, the hospitality of God. In the early poems Thomas evokes the 'bread of life' and 'the bread of love', crumbling and crumbled in the Eucharist.

The two stanzas of 'The Moor' are about a wild untamed place which feels like a church, but the poet's experience of stepping onto the moor caused a perplexing loss of the familiar to which his response is wonder edged with that fear which is the beginning of wisdom. Echoing some of his own earlier poems, laced with biblical allusions and clues, the poem is an atmospheric account of one man's discovery that sometimes, without our planning it or even wanting it, prayer happens. Our restlessness is stilled, we stand cap in hand, eyes moistened by the moment, the heart's passions subdued to deeper purpose, and before we know it "the air crumbled and broke on me generously as bread."  

"It was like a church to me." In a much later poem included in Counterpoint (1990), Thomas brings together modern compromises of faith, scornful regret for an ailing church, and his defiant often quarrelsome faith that at the heart of all things is the Cross, and therefore at the heart of the Church, eucharist.

We have over-furnished

our faith. Our churches

are as limousines in the procession

towards heaven. But the verities

remain: a de-nuclearised

cross, uncontaminated

by our coinage: the chalice’s

ichor; and one crumb of bread

on the tongue for the bird like

intelligence to be made tame by.              (Collected Later Poems page 105)

But the verities remain...", Rising he broke, like sun crumbling the gold air, the live bread for starving folk,... one crumb of bread on the tongue... I walked on, simple and poor, while the air crumbled and broke on me generously as bread.   

Comments

[David C Brown]

I enjoy Thomas, but feel him a better poet than Christian, sending out probes to an Almighty rather than accept in simplicity that God has done the searching in Christ.

[Jim Gordon]

Hello David, and thank you for commenting. I wonder if accepting in simplicity is the only way for faith to be faithful? Not everyone comes to faith in the same way, and assurance and certainty about God is often a matter of temperament, experience and is known best to the one who in sincerity and faithfulness goes on seeking, in order to be found, and to find. For myself I hesitate to judge those whose faith includes questions, loneliness, doubt and faith seeking understanding. R S Thomas' poetry is thickly textured, theologically complex, and diverse in its moods. It can be affirmative and interrogative, expresses thanksgiving and lament, confesses the faith and also probes beneath the words for the reality that God is. All good wishes David, Jim