There is a beautiful poem by Mary Oliver where she focuses on her dog, and his simple intuitive longing to know affection:

“he turns upside down, his four paws in the air…

Tell me you love me, he says.

Tell me again…

Over and over he gets to ask it.

I get to tell.”

from ‘Little Dog’s Rhapsody in the Night (Percy 3)’

Today we are so aware of the need for love – for refugees, for the dispossessed, for the homeless. We are so aware of the need for the power of love to displace the force of evil and hate.

A few months ago I was walking along the ridge of a Shropshire hill, called Stiperstones. The ridge is punctuated by exposed concentrations of bare rock, and the strange atmosphere these create have led to stories of the connection of evil with the place (the largest mound is called “Devil’s Chair”).

But as I walked with the sun setting in the west, I could only think of being blessed by being in this remote, wild place. I was like Mary Oliver’s dog, and it felt like the world was saying “I love you” back to me. Of course there was no audible voice and my mind was responding to ideas I had been exploring. And yet love is a perennial and powerful voice. Perhaps the most powerful voice in the universe?

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Here

In the silence

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Of Stiperstones

The sun sets

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And we forget

The day’s pains

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There was a wind

That blew

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On the summit

And swept me through

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A voice that called

Again and again

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“I love you”

I heard it

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In the silence

“I love you”

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“I love you” again

And again and again.

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