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Breath of Aslan

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Over at BIGRead14 this lent they are working through a book of poem-prayers by Stephen Cherry.  I have been much enjoying this so far and, since recording it a week or so ago, have been particularly thinking about my little contribution to it, reading the “Breath of God” poem.

So much I am thinking and feeling about this one at the moment, but one thing it keeps bringing to mind is the various descriptions of the power and effect of Aslan’s breath in CS Lewis’ Narnia books.

I leave you with an example or two from each book.

The Lion opened his mouth, but no sound came from it; he was breathing out, a long, warm breath; it seemed to sway all the beasts as the wind sways a line of trees. Far overhead from beyond the veil of blue sky which hid them the stars sang again; a pure, cold, difficult music. Then there came a swift flash like fire (but it burnt nobody) either from the sky or from the Lion itself, and every drop of blood tingled in the children’s bodies, and the deepest, wildest voice they had ever heard was saying:

“Narnia, Narnia, Narnia, awake. Love. Think. Speak. Be walking trees. Be talking beasts.”

 “Hush,” said Susan, “Aslan’s doing something.”

He was indeed. He had bounded up to the stone lion and breathed on him…I expect you’ve seen someone put a lighted match to a bit of newspaper which is propped up in a grate against an unlit fire. And for a second nothing seems to have happened; and then you notice a tiny streak of flame creeping along the edge of the newspaper. It was like that now. For a second after Aslan had breathed upon him the stone lion looked just the same. Then a tiny streak of gold began to run along his white marble back then it spread – then the colour seemed to lick all over him as the flame licks all over a bit of paper – then, while his hindquarters were still obviously stone, the lion shook his mane and all the heavy, stone folds rippled into living hair. Then he opened a great red mouth, warm and living, and gave a prodigious yawn. And now his hind legs had come to life. He lifted one of them and scratched himself. Then, having caught sight of Aslan, he went bounding after him and frisking round him whimpering with delight and jumping up to lick his face.

What put a stop to all this was a sudden fright. Shasta discovered that someone or somebody was walking beside him. It was pitch dark and he could see nothing. And the Thing (or Person) was going so quietly that he could hardly hear any footfalls. What he could hear was breathing. His invisible companion seemed to breathe on a very large scale, and Shasta got the impression that it was a very large creature. And he had come to notice this breathing so gradually that he had really no idea how long it had been there. It was a horrible shock… Once more he felt the warm breath of the Thing on his hand and face. “There,” it said, “that is not the breath of a ghost. Tell me your sorrows.”

Shasta was a little reassured by the breath: so he told

Then, after an awful pause, the deep voice said, “Susan.” Susan made no answer but the others thought she was crying. “You have listened to fears, child,” said Aslan. “Come, let me breathe on you. Forget them. Are you brave again?”

and…

As soon as the Lion’s breath came about him, a new look came into the man’s eyes—startled, but not unhappy—as if he were trying to remember something. Then he squared his shoulders and walked into the Door.”

Lucy looked along the beam and presently saw something in it. At first it looked like a cross, then it looked like an aeroplane, then it looked like a kite, and at last with a whirring of wings it was right overhead and was an albatross. It circled three times round the mast and then perched for an instant on the crest of the gilded dragon at the prow. It called out in a strong sweet voice what seemed to be words though no one understood them. After that it spread its wings, rose, and began to fly slowly ahead, bearing a little to starboard. Drinian steered after it not doubting that it offered good guidance. But no one except Lucy knew that as it circled the mast it had whispered to her, “Courage, dear heart,” and the voice, she felt sure, as Aslan’s, and with the voice a delicious smell breathed in her face.

The voice had been growing softer towards the end of this speech and now it faded away altogether. Jill looked behind her. To her astonishment she saw the cliff already more than a hundred yards behind her, and the Lion himself a speck of bright gold on the edge of it. She had been setting her teeth and clenching her fists for a terrible blast of lion’s breath; but the breath had really been so gentle that she had not even noticed the moment at which she left the earth. And now, there was nothing but air for thousands upon thousands of feet below her.

Beloved, said the Glorious One, unless thy desire had been for me thou wouldst not have sought so long and so truly. For all find what they truly seek.

“Then he breathed upon me and took away the trembling from my limbs and caused me to stand upon my feet. And after that, he said not much, but that we should meet again, and I must go further up and further in. Then he turned him about in a storm and flurry of gold and was gone suddenly.

My Mum’s on Facebook

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My mum’s on Facebook, I can’t think why
She said she thought she’d give it a try
But now what I shared with Tim & with Fred,
I mistakenly shared with my mum instead.

Just a silly old comment, a harmless update,
Nothing to make anyone all that irate.
But mum saw it there and blew a fuse –
She knows that they’re not really my views,
It was only a joke, I’ve got no problem with race
And I’d never say something like that to his face.
So now she’s trying to make me say sorry
But I just can’t do that, I’ll feel such a wally.
And Tim will be loving it, hiding his smirk
When he’s done just the same, that bloody old jerk.

Why don’t mums get it, it’s between him and me,
Fred was the only one else meant to see
And anyway it’s just the way that we talk,
It doesn’t mean quite the same as she thought.

But then, if she saw it and got offended that way,
I wonder who else might have read it that day?
Hopefully not Dan, cos he actually is black
And we’re really good mates; he’d be taken aback
Surely not my teachers or that man in the shop
Who I’m trying to impress so he’ll give me a job?

They’re not online friends, I think that comments won’t show
But is that how it works? I don’t actually know.

When my mum came on Facebook, one thing I found out,
That public & private isn’t always clear cut
So that one little post, be it ever so brief,
Might, one day, go viral and cause so much grief.

Guess I’ll have to be careful before I send something new
Cos the next person I offend might be you!