Flights delay; schedules must be rearranged. Pause in the park; there is nothing else nearby; though sickness and tiredness lag our legs and this message must be read, that query returned. All the dead time of the week, all these fragmented moments – purpose evades when we have no control. Yet moments ripple when weContinue reading “No Waste”
Tag Archives: God
Damascus Road: Midday
Indeed, my friends, let us not forget in our wakefulness… (Saint Ephraim the Syrian, Hymns of the Nativity) Do I assume this peace? Some peasants once, I am told, when they had had enough of false liberty, took cobblestones and made them missiles. And men of another age were warned that their panelled houses couldContinue reading “Damascus Road: Midday”
Damascus Road Prayers: Ramsho (Evening Prayer)
This day are opened, our mouths to give thanks. They who opened the breaches, have opened my sons’ mouths. (St Ephraim the Syrian, The Nisibene Hymns) The night begins our day; we raise our open mouths to praise. The sky falls in orange sleep, but wait expectant of the dawn. The gates are breached; theContinue reading “Damascus Road Prayers: Ramsho (Evening Prayer)”
You can’t read in traffic
Stuck in horrendous traffic on the way to work yesterday, I began to reflect on the irony that, as someone who spends most of my life talking about reading and writing, I have remarkably little time to read or write. This is what those thoughts generated.
The Consolation of Psalms: Podcast Episode Two
I was angry with my friend; I told my wrath, my wrath did end. I was angry with my foe; I told it not, my wrath did grow. So William Blake begins his poem “A Poison Tree”. Where as Christians do we take our anger, or all the other messy emotions that seem not toContinue reading “The Consolation of Psalms: Podcast Episode Two”
August
I gather moments like raindrops, like snowdrops: these microscopic buds of spring tricked by sun to come out, one by one; I see how hesitant can be can be the grandest glimpse of things and sing. I catch the way your moments dance from distance – yetContinue reading “August”
Eikon
No mirror to reflect, no voice, only dust, sculpted by hands, crafted by plan. No self-stirring spirit, no knowledge, no thrust, only dust, fingerprinted, moulded – with tears and with blood and with sweat – now we stand, heart and body, earthenware image, dust reflecting in praise.
Homecoming
Do you see yonder cloud that’s almost in shape of a camel? (William Shakespeare) To the untrained eye, nothing has changed: smoke still billows from chimneys; mornings are dark; alarms wake too early; the mad prince still fools the diplomat with his madness, the sane with his sanity. To the untrained eye, all these cloudsContinue reading “Homecoming”
Music for children’s choir
Headphone-bound, children sing as I round the corner. The nonchalance of late morning traffic greets a flutter of flight – black and white feathers – painting the street in uncontrolled strokes: a rise, a swoop, a leap, a fall. Ballet-graced, yet deadly in its implications: too wild, too close to the turmoil of wheels.Continue reading “Music for children’s choir”
All the birds of the freeway
I journey between factories and billboards and trees; needles of light pierce the morning sky, and in the east the vermilion city wakes. Spanning the distance, birds fly in sequence, sweeping sheets, kites, giant gulls across the horizon. When I arrive I will be static, and spark at friction from those who start their dayContinue reading “All the birds of the freeway”
The Consolations of Writing 