100. Walk the walk
We talk the talk
These days with Skype
But shall we walk
With Christ in service
The quiet paths of Galilee?
Who will walk the walk
And cross the path to Calvary?
Who dares to break the spell?
Of drowning in the ordinary?
It's quiet in the hall because all have left
Our promises behind on comfy chairs
And chatter in the corridors
Following the call to follow.
Is this it? As many think.
Or is it indeed
A rehearsal of some sort.
A prologue to infinity
But only if we want it.
Will grace break through on village streets?
Will concrete yield to mercy?
And bright flowers bloom again
Amid decay?
Are we children of one short second?
Or we do we live forever?
Do we fail to see the stars?
Because of city lights?
Too bright to see?
101. The altar boy
The incense filled the morning air
His long soutane and rebel hair
He gave reply in Latin verse
His simple soul felt it might burst
With happiness.
So very young and yet so wise
He sensed an unhurried peace
In the old priest's eyes.
A life of quiet prayer and contentment
What more could a young man wish
Following a higher pitch?
Heaven met earth
And time stood still
His young clear eyes
Beheld eternity.
White starched surplices
Black shiny shoes
Heads bowed in humble adoration
Happy in unchanging faith.
Faith of our fathers
Standing straight in pews
That filled to overflowing
Faith of our mothers
Cleaning, sweeping, toiling
Endless, endless cups of tea.
Not for them the shops of London
Not for them a break or pause
Martha's sisters darn and spin
Serenely for their faithful cause.
102. A February Funeral
The Quaker Meeting House falls still
The birds are singing spring songs in the trees
The muffled hum of traffic in Blackrock
Broken only by the siren wail of ambulances.
A Friend is laid to rest quietly
Without the trappings of a ritual
The silence invites the spirit
To travel to the stars through time.
To an hour and a place
Where old Friends meet again
Below the dipping branches
Where spring is sprung eternally.
Sorrow and hope bound to one another
Mixed together and shaken
Twin faces watch in both directions
Embracing joy and sadness.
103. To return
To return to the mother's womb
Through death to pass again
From whence we came
Without fears or tears.
Noli timere - 'do not fear’
Embrace the eternal space
Breathe in the galactic breath
Exhale the distant stars.
Atoms flying through the universe
In mysterious symmetry
Surfing with divine geometry
To be and to about to be.
To believe is to welcome
Sleeping naked in God's light
Embracing time and space
Dissolving in divine delight.
Nada te turbe,
Rest in God's hand
The race is run
From raging sea to dry land
The cycle's come
Full circle and we
Join all of creation
In ecstatic mystery.
104. The risen Christ
Pity me, of little faith,
Who can but follow slowly
Along the path below
The footsteps of the sandals
That walked the Holy Land
Pardon me for failing
To follow you on High.
For me your rising's shielded
By centuries of time.
Sufficient for me therefore
To join you at the table
Where all are eating, chatting
Lacking written invitation.
Your message lives untarnished
Ungarnished by a story
That few of us can capture -
Ours to follow, not adore.
There's surely something out there
But devil if we can
Put words on something wordless
Beyond the ken of man.
105. A cloistered life
She lived a life of stoic cheer
Rising in the early morn
To praise the Lord and greet the dawn
In a granite convent on a green hillside.
Not for her a man or bairn
Though she often wished for all the same
The little comforts that ease the pain
Along this pilgrim way.
Always with a cheerful smile
Always with a word of hope
Even when her heart was broke
When God was distant and she forlorn.
What inspired this life of service?
To undertake this Via Crucis?
To deny her loves and suppress her wishes
All to support her silent Sisters?
Soldiers brave who die in wars
Die but once in a blaze of glory
But to die each day a thousand times
Is a different story.
106. Hello, God
I tried to speak to God by phone today,
But the message minder said he was away.
I was just a little curious and a bit inquisitive
As to the meaning of life and other little things.
I thought I might check with the man above
I am assuming it’s a man and its up
But it could equally be a woman and be down
Where our hopes rise and our fears fade.
Nearer my God would be great
But just a little louder would make my day.
My God, my God,
Why have I forsaken you?
‘Time’ said the weary barman
‘Amen’ said the drunken angel at the bar
‘Have you no harp to play, no hymns to sing?’
‘I used to be big in the firmament,
But all things change you know,
I am no longer permanent’.
The tired angel left the lounge,
The barman sighed, then locked the door
‘I’ve settled for this’ he thought
‘But I always wanted more.’
107. Something
There's something beyond us
And something between us
An invisible thread
In the Milky Way
That gathers and scatters
That joins and divides us.
The pattern of God
So near and so reaching
Beyond touching and seeing
At the pit of our being.
Asleep yet awake
Mute but yet talking
Immobile, still coursing
Each second, each day.
We see him in children
The blind and the agéd
In hope and in anguish
Through love and through care.
He's here and he's nowhere
Both now and forever
The gate is marked hope
Past the wall of despair.
108. Christ with a ‘c’
At the motel in Cana
I met him at night
He checked in after me.
signing Jesus with a ‘J’
And Christ with a ‘c.
Seeing our fatigue, the night porter offered tea
Wearily he smiled as the clock struck three
‘Would you like to a glass of wine’
Asked Jesus, turning to me
So drinking together we saw in the dawn
And solved the world’s problems
Before heading on.
Six months later and I’m back in town
It’s approaching noon and I see him again.
A sadder sight as he stumbled and fell
Under the weight of a cross at the midday bell.
Weak from his wounds, he slumped to the ground
Eyes fixed on the path, hardly making a sound.
‘We once met in Cana, can I help you to stand?
It’s Simon’, I said, and offered my hand.
Some wait for three days and wake for my friend,
But I’ve met him before and do so again
When slipping and falling I return to my feet.
Thrice.
109. Now hope sustains
Faith remains and hope sustains
And bravest he who hopes
For hope connects and strengthens
Our believing and our loving
Hope gives strength
To overcome our lethargy
Hope the humble glue
Of whirling galaxies
Hope need not be blind
Need not be servant to man or cult
But raising and transforming
The building blocks of space.
Hope is the humble joy
Of those who delight in serving
Never happier than at end of table
Happy just to be able.
To breathe and sit
Watching dawn ‘til dusk
Eternally grateful
For just everything.
110. The uninvited cross
This cross has fallen on my back
For some years now
But the star whose light
Has guided me on paths
I would have never chosen
And has led me to a place
That is greener and more peaceful
Than any map I might make
Would ever guide me
A resentful me
Has studied the heavy wood
And often thought of leaving
It unloved at any cross road.
To swing a different way
Proceeding far from home
From whence the loved ones lay.
The cross is heavy
And the burden tight.
It’s only through effort
We can make it right.
Submitting our will to others
Sharing in their joys and pains
Escaping from the prison of self
To rise in communion again.
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