Saturday, 28 March 2009


Reflection: Practice your Craft and you find a faithful friend. Don't leave, ignore or sell out Craft. Don't betray Craft, for in doing so you betray yourself. Build your life around the demands and visions of Craft. Otherwise you will die before dying. Craft will then give you air to breath in the midst of foul pollution; hope in the midst of scattered dreams.

Text: Exodus 31: See I have called you by name. I have filled you with the Spirit of God in wisdom and understanding, in knowledge and all kinds of craftsmanship, to make artistic designs ...
Judges 6.34: The Spirit of the Lord came upon Gideon and he blew a trumpet ...

Prayer: It is true in these days that your Spirit is given without measure, and that I am named and called by the Creator of the universe. I ask for wisdom and understanding to work through the gifts given to me. May I beautify your house and serve your holy name, like Bezalel of old. Please give me strength and grace this day to worship you and create in your image; as I am made, so may I make. Amen.


EARTH In the soil I cover myself
FIRE Rubbing sticks to make a spark
WATER And later in the warmth of the water
AIR I breathe deeply
LIFE Rivers springing eternal from within this earthen vase

Poem on the Passing of Pope John Paul 11

:and so it comes, the end
:deeply embedded in the beginning
:a line within the mind
:a deep fissure in the heart
:the knowledge of it flickering
:the flame extending
:as the candle slowly burns
:and the shadows lengthen
:and so it comes, the end

:life, a shallow sea to swim in
:before the disappearance into the deep

Touching the Lord

For Karol Wjotyla

Going – like a slow walk through a meadow towards autumn
Skin – a shrivelled leaf, veins showing through the papery veil that has been home
Soul and spirit pulling apart now
And the stronger the light comes
The longer the shadow is cast
Prayers mingling with quiet emotion
Reflections before bedtime
History gathering you in her arms, kissing your forehead
And whispering:
“Thank you, son – you made me well...”
Slipping away now
Someone reading to you like a loving mother of Christ’s slow passage home
The cross searing into every memory
Bound, like Him, led to a place you do not wish to go
What is the last thing you see?
The call carried on the waiting mourners:
“Stretch out your hands, my son, come follow Me...”

Saturday, 21 March 2009

vain citadels not walled

what broke u down vain citadels?
winter underfoot and cold cold hands
empty eyes and a fierce wind from the east
to defy any notion of a loving god

what broke u down lost girl?
vanity vanity chirps the bird
cheap cheap mourns the flesh
melding with god knows what

what broke u down dreamer?
one figment too many rose up
to offer your destiny on past's plate
eat eat now and sleep as you wake

what broke me down?
winter, cold hands, empty eyes
the east wind, vanity, mourning
and today's dreams of yesterday

Friday, 20 March 2009

Who? Where? When? Why? What?

The Singer's song untaught,
unuttered, unknown
by so many
yet deeply understood
by naked humankind
is the mystery of the Word
laid bare ...

Shame-filled fingers tremble.
Lips move.
The beginning of prayer
is mourning over
uttered sin.

Stricken nights fall away,
and dew-filled mornings sweep away
dawn's doubts.

Who calls?
Where is the hand to hold me?
When will the students of destruction
be stopped?
Why can't I find him who my soul loves?
What covers me?

Hiding the gift from the giver;
Giving the gift like it's mine -
what folly.

Who is rising?
Where have I fallen?
When do I arrive?
Why have you gone?
What comes?

Can I hold your gaze for a lifetime?
Face to face
in shallow waters and in the depths.
In nothing and in everything.
In vulnerability and in strength.

What is it I want?
What is my choice?

My will is a knife to pierce
the membrane of fate,
and turn the world on it's edge.

And turn me to face the Beloved
and not look down; not ever.
To grasp the hand of
faith and hope,

and live.