A Poem: Heart

A poem for Lent If I were to empty my heart it would spill. I’m not sure if the drawbridge once opened would close. I’m not sure if this heart is prepared yet for Lent. Until Lent recalls to me, how the heart is wooed and welcomed, until in trust it relents. Its openings exposed … More A Poem: Heart

A Poem: Pregnant

Space is not empty. Space is pregnant, with possibility. The space we give each other, the more expansive it is, the more we are committed to preserving it, the more the space gives room for flourishing, the more a space gives a place for truth. The more we allow each other a place to grieve, … More A Poem: Pregnant

A Poem: Hello

‘Oh, Hello morning. That you come round again to visit, is always a thing of wonder to me.’ And in return you say, ‘Hello Soul. Its time to wake and wear your colours, like me. Not the same as yesterday, but a flourish here and there, as new paints arrived in the post, opened and … More A Poem: Hello

A Poem: Loose

Did this garden ask anything of me? Planted it only sought the light and nourishment of life. It only inclined towards the North to where the sun burned warmest. Without my taming solicitous hand it grows and thrives. And I stand blessed to watch, and I stand small here, underneath. Does life ask anything of … More A Poem: Loose

A Poem: The Temple

We come and the angels are clearing the road, for we come bearing treasure. We come with bare feet and hands hardly aware of what it is we carry. Vessels of clay with our holy consignment. Re-dignified, and exhorted to raise our heads, we breathe and feel our ribs, temple of the living Spirit expand … More A Poem: The Temple

A Poem: No Word

No word is wasted. The prayers spoken, the heart’s unwinding, nothing is said in vain, though the answers seem lacking. No word is without a hearing, no voice without an inclined ear, receiving its pourings, its truths and its delusions, its fears and pleas. No word is without a considered response, though we mightn’t know … More A Poem: No Word

A Poem: Your Name

God, your name is on my tongue. Not as an entreaty, or as a question. Nor as an explanation for all that I believe. But as a simple breath. An exhalation of relief. A name, like a lover might repeat, over and over, to remind himself of  the one with whom he lies replete. God, … More A Poem: Your Name