I had occasion this morning to look back over some of the poems of St. John of the Cross. I read some of his work for the first time after Christmas, and what I read blew me away. I'd love to have the words and the eloquence to write something about St. John's work, but I think the best thing I could do would simply be to post some of it.

Of course, with poetry, anyone who reads it will get something different out of it. I'm not typically a poetry kind of guy... but I suppose that I'm predisposed to like this kind of thing. The verses below are my favorites; they're from an untitled and uncompleted work:

I entered into unknowing,
and there I remained unknowing
transcending all knowledge.


I entered into unknowing,
yet when I saw myself there,
without knowing where I was,
I understood great things;
I will not say what I felt
for I remained in unknowing
transcending all knowledge.


That perfect knowledge
was of peace and holiness
held at no remove
in profound solitude;
it was something so secret
that I was left stammering,
transcending all knowledge.


I was so 'whelmed,
so absorbed and withdrawn,
that my senses were left
deprived of all their sensing,
and my spirit was given
an understanding while not understanding,
transcending all knowledge.


He who truly arrives there
cuts free from himself;
all that he knew before
now seems worthless,
and his knowledge so soars
that he is left in unknowing
transcending all knowledge.


The higher he ascends
the less he understands,
because the cloud is dark
which lit up the night;
whoever knows this
remains always in unknowing
transcending all knowledge.


This knowledge in unknowing
is so overwhelming
that wise men disputing
can never overthrow it,
for their knowledge does not reach
to the understanding of not
understanding,
transcending all knowledge.


And this supreme knowledge
is so exalted
that no power of man or learning
can grasp it;
he who masters himself
will, with knowledge in
unknowing,
always be transcending.


And if you should want to hear:
this highest knowledge lies
in the loftiest sense
of the essence of God;
this is a work of his mercy,
to leave one without
understanding,
transcending all knowledge.