If I see myself reflected – All my guilt and all my shame – How can I help but weep to see What I am before Him? If I look Him in the eye – Him, the brother that I scorned – Can I bear to hold my gaze? Can I let Him see me?Continue reading “The Mirror (For James of Jerusalem, Brother of Jesus and Martyr)”
Category Archives: Poetry
More Clearly, More Dearly, More Nearly (For Richard of Chichester
I am in the process of going back and writing some poems that I missed earlier in the year, so that the final collection of these liturgical poems can start and finish as neatly as possible. Here is one for April 3 of this year. More Clearly, More Dearly, More Nearly (For Richard of Chichester)Continue reading “More Clearly, More Dearly, More Nearly (For Richard of Chichester”
Ecclesia (Twenty-First Sunday After Pentecost)
Almighty and everlasting God, in Christ you have revealed your glory among the nations: Preserve the works of your mercy, that your Church throughout the world may persevere with steadfast faith in the confession of your Name; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, forContinue reading “Ecclesia (Twenty-First Sunday After Pentecost)”
The Weight and the Sufficiency (For Henry Martyn, Translator and Martyr)
Lord, shew me myself; nothing but “wounds and bruises, and putrifying sores,” and teach me to live by faith on Christ my all. (From the journals of Henry Martyn, January 1803) He gave himself – That mass of sores And deadweight heavy on his heart; He dragged this weary weight around, And, manacled, could sometimesContinue reading “The Weight and the Sufficiency (For Henry Martyn, Translator and Martyr)”
An Orderly Account (For Luke the Evangelist and Martyr)
Because there are so many stories Rattling through the winds of time, So many heroes’ many legends, Many tall tales, many lies; Because so many hotly contest What, how and who is the truth, Because so many make their claims, And so many yet will say That here He is and this is He, ThatContinue reading “An Orderly Account (For Luke the Evangelist and Martyr)”
Grace, twenty-eight years old
Weighed down with all the sheep’s clothing I have daily donned, this wolf-face I deny but own, and all my other faces too; smothered in self and this stink-to-heaven stench of all that I have scattered, sown, now reap, decked in dead flowers, sprouting pride, staring in the face of true holiness – a lionContinue reading “Grace, twenty-eight years old”
The Letter (For Ignatius of Antioch, Bishop and Martyr)
I am writing, dear brothers, So that you may Be established in Him Whose truth you received. I am writing to you What I have been given, So that you may Hold firm in the truth. Even now I Wrestle with beasts And am surrounded By leopards and guards. You are kept safe; I amContinue reading “The Letter (For Ignatius of Antioch, Bishop and Martyr)”
So Long As There’s Breath (For Nicholas Ridley and Hugh Latimer, Bishops and Martyrs)
So long as there’s breath – And what breath have we that’s not His – So long as we can stand and speak, Though our faint tongues be silenced; So long as we have light to give (And we’ll light this day a candle); So long as light is still alight; So long as truthContinue reading “So Long As There’s Breath (For Nicholas Ridley and Hugh Latimer, Bishops and Martyrs)”
He Is All (For Teresa of Avila, Teacher)
Be still – It is enough to sit At His feet (He is enough) And see His scars Where He was wounded So that you, child, Need not be. It is enough, Dear child, to let His grace succour you. Let Him be Your everything Who is enough And is your all.
The Number of Days (Twentieth Sunday After Pentecost)
You brought me from the womb. But in those days I swam in eternity And plucked and grasped as I willed, Owning all I saw and all Beholden unto me. You brought me from the womb, and yet I neither knew nor took Your hand. I built houses of hewn stone And then sat beforeContinue reading “The Number of Days (Twentieth Sunday After Pentecost)”
The Consolations of Writing 