Advent 1: Pine

Early evening, cool of day, we walk in the garden to find evergreen branches to weave a wreath of hope. My son is distracted. Not tall enough to reach with me, he stands to watch but soon decides instead to help pile the compost heap with grass. Evergreen and humus: these symbols arrest as IContinue reading “Advent 1: Pine”

Christmas 6: How we grow

And Mary treasured in her heartthe mystery, the sheerbeyondness of what she held and did not hold.He already moved from her grasp,wiser than her and Joseph combined,outsmarting his teachers,taking himself off for theological talks,when she had hardly finished feeding him.Only time stood between her and total loss, onlyyears before a sword would pierceher own soulContinue reading “Christmas 6: How we grow”

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”

Resolution 2: Slow Fruit

Nothing purposed is instant. Fruit grows first by roots spreading deep, nutrients drawn, sunlight synthesised, chlorophyll taking glory from green. Look to the fig tree. If you see its buds, Summer’s promise dangles, yet is not realised. Tantalising, like a kitten’s ball of yarn, or a note waiting to resolve, a game of slow expectancy.Continue reading “Resolution 2: Slow Fruit”

Too Much Light 4: Prepare Your Feet

     No room, and yet there is room: in shoulders, between lanes, by roadsides, in industrial paddocks. No room, perhaps, for cars, yet feet have space to move, if you,   traffic-sore, should rise           and step into the space where lavender shifts in wind, gnarled       tree trunks climb    to upward     possibility.Continue reading “Too Much Light 4: Prepare Your Feet”