God’s inscrutability

God’s inscrutability
A Small Pslater

by Padriag J. Daly (Scotus Press, €12.00; available from www.scotuspress.com)

JohnF. Deane

This new collection from Pádraig J. Daly has been eagerly waited for. Daly is a priest currently working in Dublin and he has published many collections of his poetry.

The poems gathered here are excitingly new and move from an early traditional Christian and Catholic faith to a finely aware contemporary view; he moves from Augustine of Hippo, 5th Century, to Ilia Delio, an American Franciscan nun and theologian of the 21st Century. The growth and transition are hugely welcome to Daly’s many followers.

The poetry moves from “that original bleb/that formed in bubbling sludge the Godhead blessed” to humanity in thrall to an Omega God of the future, to the Christ. Notice how, even in these lines, Daly’s skill with word-sounds and patterns is evident.

Limitations

From the historical limitations of early Catholic thinking, through the rumpus on the notion of evolution, to an awareness of the cosmic dimensions of our being, this ‘small psalter’, this book of experience, thought and prayer, outlines a richly productive career in priesthood and in poetry.

All the while, attention to the fine minutiae of our daily living is undiminished, a quality most distinctly obvious in Daly’s care and concern for all of humanity through all his work: “The rain I listen to on leaves…”, “In shabby churches out along the city,/Old men lead the old in prayer”…one could quote so many delicately observed instances of awareness and precise language.

The theme of Daly’s work continues to be our place in creation and the watchful, loving eye of the divinity over us; nor is there failure to note the suffering we undergo, the apparent injustices in our living, the doubts.

Securities

He writes “the old certainties are gone” and “secure securities are but shakily secure”. Faith life in our time demands personal and conscious commitment of the will, rather than the easy and faulty obedience to sets of rules we once tried to live by. How, then, are we to live:

“Is there reason in any scripture

Why the lie should not triumph

And the liar be feted everywhere?”

This clear and hurting reference to certain political leaders in our time must be asked. The answer is, of course, a question of will and decision.

Thankfully, Daly does not offer simplistic answers.

There are many, almost cinematic, pieces, precisely and sparely presented, leaving indelible images in the reader’s mind with their calm empathy”

Country and city both hold the attention of this exquisite poetry, and both are shot through with a loving and caring view. There are memories of his early years in Waterford, of life in the Dublin Liberties; there is a Franciscan and Augustinian awareness of the great and the everyday wonders of creation. Echoes of Merton and many of the Fathers of the Church are gently contained, providing a bourdon of music to the poems:

“Sealight

Shivering all morning

On the walls of the room:

walk outside to still the ecstasy.”

There are many, almost cinematic, pieces, precisely and sparely presented, leaving indelible images in the reader’s mind with their calm empathy, the quiet effectiveness of the music and the language.

There are vignettes of individual people he meets in his daily work, from the youngest to the oldest, from locals to refugees and it is here, with the lost and lonely, that Daly’s empathy shines most truly forth. ‘Rosie’ for instance: “I pass her in the late evening,/Standing where she stands,/Bright as a kingfisher,//Waiting, she says,/For men to make a pig of her.”

Integrity

Here is integrity and honest directness: we must “resign ourselves to unanswered prayer”. But the prayers must be spoken.

In his introduction to the book, Jack Hare writes: “There is no longer a handbook to explain how a whole swathe of people think, no simplification, no readymade fit for all.”

The title poem of the collection, ‘A Small Psalter’, examines with precision this truth. The sequence, rich and varied, with a mixture of faith and doubt, of praise and pleading, echoes in form and in development one of Daly’s greatest earlier poems, ‘Augustine: Letter to God’. The sequence is tantalizing in its zig-zag forward impetus, the growth in thought and language is rich and intense.

Awe remains, but love is all the more prevalent. “I still myself for prayer…Bringing before You the broken of the world…You who make in us an emptiness/That You alone suffice.”

In age, in doubt in grief, there is no shirking experience and truth.

This book is arguably the most valuable collection of accessible and great poetry that this age is in need of; they are poems that hold the reader spellbound in thought, rhythms, imagery and language, and hold our awareness up to cosmic dimensions and to the little things that matter in our everyday living.

Like Pádraig J. Daly we remain certain that at least humanity will “Surrender, kicking,/To the Inscrutable.”

John F. Deane’s recent book is The Outlaw Christ (Currach Books).