Category: Poetry
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Dark
Uncouth shepherds,esoteric scholars,a restless groom open to the mystery of the night, messages of the holy. What do you see,what do you hear,in the dark? With thanks to Brian Draper for his Advent reflections which stimulated my thinking and prompted me to listen to Luke Sital-Singh’s this song again, on this December morning..
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Opening up to the wonders
Look up — at the spaces in the trees,The gaps between the branches. Life is not a clamouring or a striving. But an opening up to the wonders of creation. Breathe deeply and receive. And let the space open up in you. — — As I sat yesterday on a park bench, these were the words that stirred…
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Annunciation
She wasn’t ready for this.She may have been sleeping,Or just waking up. Me? She asksBut I’m still young,No one notices me much. You are seen,Declares the light.Seen and trustedTo carry and to bring to birthThe Light of Creation. Then may it be soShe quietly respondsWondering what her yes will mean. If she looked around She would…
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Echos from the edges of time
comfort, comfort,a sound in desolate places.create space,divine presence — imminent. [Is.40.1 remix]
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Songs of Lament (hold me now)
One of the many gifts of the Hebrew Scriptures are the expressions of lament which are given voice throughout. The Psalms record many of these — with cries of of “how long O Lord?”, “Why Lord?” … “when Lord?” Note these words from Psalm 6: Have mercy on me, Lord, for I am faint; heal…
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Learning not to be quick to uproot
To the wild flowers To the small patch of wild flowers I ripped up thinking you were weeds: I’m sorry. I had not seen your bloom Only leaves. I rushed to judge you And your value. Return to this soil. I welcome your seeds. This poem was written as I looked out on my…
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A quiet joy / being human
Where does rest fit in our lives as human beings? How are we giving time to being present in the world and attentive to the gifts around us? This photographic combination was produced after reading a poem in the summer of 2015. The words are from the poetry anthology ‘Being Human’ (p159); the poem is ‘A Quiet Joy’…
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Patient Oak
There are times when the wisest option is to say nothing. There are times when we can feel we don’t trust ourselves to say anything. There are times of silence because any expression of the current situation seems inadequate or insincere. There are times of silence because of sorrow. There are times of silence because…
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Good Morning Chair
A poem inspired by a workshop where the attendees where encouraged to write seven two-word lines about an object in their everyday surroundings which holds a a sense of value beyond it monetary cost. This poem describes the first chair I would sit on each the morning, as I drink my first cup of tea. woven wicker faithfully idle…
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Sacramental
I’m praying with eyes open today, as Peterson recommends (see ‘The Contemplative Pastor’). As I do so, I’m mulling over the psalmists concern to: “behold the beauty of the Lord and seek him in his temple.” Sacramental Made of meat, flesh on bone, dust gathering on soles of feet. Dust and stone my kith and…