Advent 2020

Nipped did it

The frost on the sloe

Yes and sitting on the hill

With blackthorn around us

Eating our winter picnic

Looking down it truly was

Wonderful, undulating

Grassy meadows, varying

Forms near and far

Tracks and trails covered 

By us and by others

The first advent Sunday came

A soft bell ringing

Gently piercing and peeking

Into our world.

Pain, happy pain of

Longing, surprised by joy

If only words could convey

Or at least elicit that long-lost feeling

But untamed lions 

Come and go as they please.

I tune my hearing

To hear his steps and

Every sign of the times

Bending towards his will.

I pray my own steps 

Those 26 steps

Will be well placed.

Where

Where have you
Buried your talents
What are they
Where have you

Hidden that blinding
Light that took
Me by surprise
Where have you

Placed that beat
That jumped my
Heart it really
Resonated with me.

(For all those who struggle with their calling --

and with distinguishing between

the siren call of the despairingly and unrealistically high expectations of success and

the call of conscience -- and scripture -- to give back the talents with interest)

The Man

The Man who gave names to all the animals
Did not know what to call himself
What he was called to be

Called himself names
But could not recall his true name
Created himself games
But could not play the true game

The Man who gave names to all the animals
Who created taxonomy
Did not know how long or how short
The measure should be

The spirit from within
The spirit from outside
Then broke in

Washing away what's petty
And placing what's important
In full view
And in full agreement
For people to see

(With thanks for a chat with a friend)

Magnificat

You are Holy

And you are here in whole

Not just to fill a hole.

Your victory too

Is complete in one throw:

A beautiful ippon.

Win then, please, over evil.

Win then, if needs be, over me.

Your victory is worth my defeat.

(With thanks to the theology discussion here, with the thoughts of my friend Rev Andrew Bigg acting as inspiration.)

coronavirus blues

escape into the cold snow

ain’t it time for you to go slow

walk out walk out while you can

kicking down that battered can

shop for food for breath for masks

shop for comfort thought that lasts

shop for plucked and battered dove

shop for true undying love

count the numbers that are dead

count the hairs left on your head

and when at last it’s time to rest

try to show your mortal best