The word that comes to mind when I think of R. S. Thomas is fierce. However, having said that, I feel that I have fallen into the stereotypical view of Thomas as The World's Grumpiest Poet. To wit, the man who was peremptory when not silent, living in an unheated stone cottage on the coast of Wales. To my mind, this makes him, well, a human being. And, of course, there's this: his poetry is often graceful and beautiful. Thomas's fierceness is reflected in his lifelong battle with God. This battle consisted of Thomas stubbornly waiting upon God's equally stubborn silence, with Thomas commenting upon this state of affairs in his poems. The battle was made a great deal more piquant by the fact that Thomas served as an Anglican priest for 42 years, ministering to rural parishes in Wales (the subject of another of his love-hate relationships). All of this leads to a seasonal note: over the years, Thomas wrote a number of lovely Christmas poems. How shall I describe the poems? A bit fierce, yes, but withal lovely. A selection follows. Song I choose white, but with Red on it, like the snow In winter with its few Holly berries and the one Robin, that is a fire To warm by and like Christ Comes to us in his weakness, But with a sharp song. R. S. Thomas, H'm (1972). John Aldridge, "Winter" (1947) Blind Noel Christmas; the themes are exhausted. Yet there is always room on the heart for another snowflake to reveal a pattern. Love knocks with such frosted fingers. I look out. In the shadow of so vast a God I shiver, unable to detect the child for the whiteness. R. S. Thomas, No Truce with the Furies (1995). John Nash, "The Garden in Winter" (1967) Lost Christmas He is alone, it is Christmas. Up the hill go three trees, the three kings. There is a star also Over the dark manger. But where is the Child? Pity him. He has come far Like the trees, matching their patience With his. But the mind was before Him on the long road. The manger is empty. R. S. Thomas, Young and Old (1972). Adrian Paul Allinson (1890-1959) "Landscape with Trees, a Lake and a Village"
