Giving Thanks Through Poetry

God is so great that all things give Him glory
if you mean they should. So then, my brethren, Live.

– Gerard Manley Hopkins

The holiday that has memorialized both the event and the spirit of that thanksgiving meal of 1621 has been the inspiration and subject for many works of poetry and lyrics. From George Herbert’s 1633 “The Thanksgiving” to Pierpoint’s “For the Beauty of the Earth” to contemporary pop songs like Adam Sandler’s “Thanksgiving Song” (1993) and Dido’s “Thank You” (2000), it’s a holiday that seems to incite grand gestures in poetic response. And, I guess I could have written a post about poems celebrating Thanksgiving, because it turns out that they constitute a genre in and of themselves; but, instead I want to think about the way in which poetry can give expression to that for which we have thanks as well as crystallize images for which we have grasped for sufficient or satisfactory words . Words and images are manna for my heart and spirit and it’s one of the reasons why poetry often speaks to me and for me when I am beyond speaking.

“Pied Beauty”

GLORY be to God for dappled things
For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow;
For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim;
Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches’ wings;
Landscape plotted and pieced—fold, fallow, and plough;
And all trades, their gear and tackle and trim.
All things counter, original, spare, strange;
Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?)
With swift, slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim;
He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change:
Praise him.

Written by Gerard Manley Hopkins (1844-1889), this is a poem that begs to be read aloud over and again. It begs to be read slowly, softly and reflectively, and then again with gusto and enunciative care. It deserves to be read by fireplaces or recited on walks down country lanes or in the midst of big-city bustling as a moment of peaceful calm. The sounds roll around my mouth, some like tart cranberries and others like gooey caramel; the strong meat of images meeting with alliteration. The agrarian metaphor challenges me to think of thanksgiving and God as the appropriate one to whom thanks should be given as a natural a part of creation—thanksgiving being as natural as the rhythms inherent in life, alongside work and rest. The counterpoint of the mundane and, literally, work-a-day sits next to the unexpected and transcendent  – the strange, the counter, the original, the spare. In its opening and closing, Hopkins presents the subject of the poem and suggests a response, “GLORY be to God for dappled things” should lead us, Hopkins intones, to “Praise Him.”

But what of the “Dappled Things”? Of creation hit by light through leaves and branches? Or is it more like the items scuffed and marked on the reduced table at the back of the store?

Life is but a series of dappled things, things that appear to be broken or mussed. Those parts of us which seem slightly worse for wear and a little worn, a bit like our tempers. Some of us won’t be looking forward to the family fest that is Thanksgiving. But, I encourage you to think of it as one of those dappled things. It doesn’t make it any less broken, but it is in its own way yet another thing to find God in the midst of. It is the extraordinary ceremony that is inherently possible, the beauty even, and certainly the dignity, of the ordinary and the everyday that “Pied Beauty” speaks.

Image credit: Wikimedia Commons

Author

  • Anna M. Blanch is a regular contributor to Transpositions. She is Australian by birth, and inclination, Anna grew up surrounded by the Australian bush, a large extended family, bush poetry, and sport. Anna is currently writing her PhD in Theology and Literature. She finds photography, enjoying her environment and its fruits, and being in community bring her joy.

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7 Comments

  1. says: Rebecca

    And yes, there’s Hopkins. Always appropriate!

    P.S. What is the context for the blog header graphic? So curious!

    1. says: Jim

      I thought I should say something because I made the current blog header. It is an image from the work of Nathan Coley who is our current featured artist. Some (but not much) context is provided for his work in the post that I wrote on monday. There is a link to more of his work from that post.

    2. says: Anna

      Hello Rebecca,
      lovely to see you over here! And i just noticed that you’ve been doing some thinking lately about GMH too! Stay awhile – your face, and thoughts are most welcome here!

  2. says: Nathanael

    Ah, Dappled Things. I think Hopkins’ entire poetic genius stemmed from one day when he was walking along and began turning over the word ‘dappled’ on his tongue. Do you notice how often it shows up in his verse?

    As November shows the autumn colours dappled, I have been repeatedly reminded of Geoffrey Hill’s leaves like gold foil, which he, naturally, stole from Hopkins.

  3. says: Chris

    Poetry should be as challenging as the Gospel; as piercing as Christ’s words; as passionate as Christ’s anger in the Temple; as fearless of the truth as was Christ…even unto death. I sometimes think the other version of “All Things Bright and Beautiful” is more truthful: “All Things Dull and Cancerous.” Thank God for dappled things? Thank God for passionate, fearless people who stare truth in the face even if it is not pretty, and are filled with righteous anger when they need to be….Thank God for twisted, mishapen things that are still human in spirit, but will never be on the front page of a magazine….

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