Saturday, 29 March 2025

Call

On islets battered by storm
I stand alone,
I'm ready to give
You my soul;

An albatross circles above,
Come rescue me:
I'm ready to give
You my love.


Thursday, 20 March 2025

Long

Each word spoken and unbroken carries weight;
Yet I am light as feather or morning dew,
And have received more than I deserve;
But what troubles me more
Is the plight of those who received more evil
Than anyone should bear;

So come, Justice, even at my expense;
Show that you exist:
Like lakes clean in true forest,
Do they have a Master who will rage
If Man breaks their spell
By cutting down the trees and
Filling the lakes with sewage?

Come, Justice, make your presence felt
Even at my expense,
Let me see your righteous rage
And see that widows, orphans, fugitives
And other strangers in the land
Will not be swallowed by the prince of this world
But will be held safe in your Hands

(I ask these earnestly, held down by disbelief)



Thursday, 6 March 2025

Lent has started

Across ages and spaces
Where cultures of mutual love
Can take root

The same longing is present
When being far from loved ones; 
And the same comfort felt
Of meeting them again.

"Come, rest your head on my lap"
Could have come from a father
Working the Fertile Nile
In the age of Empire

Or from an Inuit in far raw-wind lands
Of North or even, who knows,
Future slave-camps of Mars.

Without the Spirit, nothing
In this cold Universe makes sense to me
(Or is worth making sense of)

Love is love, rainbow warriors exclaim
But what is the love we paint on our flags
And pin on chest of beating heart?

Is it something, an illusion we make up
To suit our desires, or to make bearable

Our brief flutters of absurd life
In the utter emptiness of space
That surrounds matter,
Itself an illusion of forces?

Or is love truly something
-- Someone -- who makes
Life worth living

Who we can never possess,
The best we can hope for
Being that Love possesses us

So that from time to time
We have faith and strength
To carry on despite

The ever present cold breath
Of death and nothingness
On our foreheads?

Such thoughts whirr
In my congested head
In an Orlando motel
Far from the culture and people

I know.


Tuesday, 4 March 2025

Ashes to Blessings

Last night I had the strangest dream
I ever dreamed before
The rain at night it sent me peace
And He came in through the door

Hate had fled like a bad smell
Through an open window
All had put their best dress on
That of their pretty soul

Like flowers arrayed 'fore kindly Sun
Graceful morning had come
Everyone cried out for joy:
Here comes the Risen Son!