Nighttime cradles you in my arms but I am uncradled, and what strength I have to cradle with is finite and growing finer yet, my widow’s mite at the temple gate, libation pouring out. Daytime is an offering too, a departure yet a giving, an act of will to defeat the Will, a living sacrificeContinue reading “Suscipe”
Category Archives: Poetry
My Examen
Give me only your love and grace. That is enough for me. Saint Ignatius of Loyola, Suscipe Resolution is void. The more I look inward, the more each motive, each spirit I discern becomes a snarl, a defiant reminder that my best attempts are, at best, no good. Though I ask my conscience to justifyContinue reading “My Examen”
The moment
when I realise not that I must always be Somewhere – fording some Jordan, scaling some Hebron, engaged in daily grandiose deeds – but that here, now, at the interstice of wilful self and the ever-grinding call to nothing grand but a pile of dishes, a child needing a hug, a moment of playing atContinue reading “The moment”
Nourish the Soil
Then he told this parable: “A man had a fig tree planted in his vineyard; and he came looking for fruit on it and found none…(Luke 13:6) If year after year I too am fruitless, it is not for want of grace, for want of a vine dresser to plead my plaintive case. No, fruitlessnessContinue reading “Nourish the Soil”
Companions for the journey: Reaching for Mercy
This morning, because the start of daylight saving tricked my son into sleeping in, I had time to read. So I opened up the new poetry anthology from Proost Poets, Reaching for Mercy, a collection that I contributed to. I must admit that, the first time I looked at it, when I had just received a copy,Continue reading “Companions for the journey: Reaching for Mercy”
Isaiah and the Seraph
I shame at mine unworthiness, yet fain would be at one with Thee: Thou art a joy in heaviness, a succour in necessity. (Sir William Leighton, 1614) Shame and joy move in polyphonic sway: the vision delights, augments, and yet diminishes the confidence. How can I, with unclean lips, hymn praises without minor chords? MustContinue reading “Isaiah and the Seraph”
Learning Father (II): For Eli
…it was I who taught Ephraim to walk… (Hosea 11:3) In truth, I teach this child very little. So much is sheer instinct, determination, what HR would call “get up and go”. But there’s little of HR, more of the deep-sea diver or the alchemist at his art, to how this small enthusiast takes toContinue reading “Learning Father (II): For Eli”
Damascus 2: Pentecost
I missed the flames that day, was at my books, learning the whys and wherefores of Law, determined that every subscript iota would not be neglected when I stood before God. The Spirit blows wherever it wills. Mine was the letter, not the wind. When, years later, I clutched letters in hand, I held everyContinue reading “Damascus 2: Pentecost”
Watching Grass Grow
I for one enjoy it: the slow, steady bursting from soil, those optimistic points of green poking sunward, the outward spread of tiny tufts, the promise of patience rewarded. And so daily I take my little son outside to see the garden, to “check on the grass”. All moments are wonders to him, yet IContinue reading “Watching Grass Grow”
Damascus 1
Something ends here: paused mid-threat, flung groundward, the man called Saul can breathe no more murder while the horse kicks up its hooves and he points his arms half-desperate at heaven. Something begins here yet it looks altogether like dying: the fall, the pervasive dark, the eyes failing to see, and yet the spirit cognisantContinue reading “Damascus 1”
The Consolations of Writing 