Its in the way we see. The way we stop to note, the blessing is not so much in the planned, the up ahead intent, but almost instead in the little scenes at centre left, the sacraments upon the way. The heaven meeting earth flashes, like shooting stars too frequent to recognise, but when seen … More A Poem: Reasons

  Time is a curtain drawn, like this dressing of new leaves upon the maple tree, delicate thin, green veil, which the wind whips and lifts that the sky shows through. And the future, and the past, seem to converge at this axis of trunk rising like a solid sign of continuity, branches pointing back … More A Poem: A Curtain

Did you want to be swayed by the wind, by the external things. Do you want to know how everything that is solid runs underneath, and through. Do you want your thoughts to lift you up or down, to live rudderless. Do you want to give credence to impressions that come and go, like mist … More A Poem: Swaying

What does it mean to follow? Sometimes it’s just to see your back, your feet, the dust of your sandaled prints in the earth. Sometimes it’s just a voice we hear to urge us on. Yes, some of us think to find you is to put out our hands in earnest supplication, for you to … More A Poem: To Follow

May my voice resound, with the writers, the poets, the philosophers, the artists, and makers of moments. To the Oscar Wilde’s who have said, ‘to live is the rarest thing…’. To the children who laugh at their onset, and the cicadas who finish with song. May my voice lift, may it ripple out and resonate, … More A Poem: The Rarest Thing

I record God’s faithfulness, that when asked I might say, whenever has a prayer gone unanswered, a night not turned to day by itself, a spring branch not borne its blossom, or an autumn tree not divested its green. Whenever has God not turned with the seasons on a branch, or a seed bursting in … More A Poem: Faithful