Catechism 41


What is the Lord’s Prayer?

Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name, your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us today our daily bread. And forgive us our debts, as we have also have forgiven our debtors. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.

(New City Catechism)


Hands upraised,        hands open
        imploring              yet worshipping
receiving              yet giving
        asking                 yet content
forgiven               and forgiving
        on earth,              as it is in heaven;
now                    forever
        delivered             yet
              daily caught in moments’ fear…

Our Father     here    and Heaven’s king:
            teach us how to pray.

Too Much Light 6: Prepare Your Crowns


let us


in the light

of the




the light is blinding   and

the days are long; the sun

confuses us, the bustle deafens.



let us walk.


Let’s leave our cars, our homes, our days

and walk.

The Son has stories brighter than noon,

pavilions for the rising of the brightest morning,

and ways that feet must slow to learn.


But come.

Prepare your crowns, prepare

your heads to bow before

His crown.


Prepare the day, to slow, to greet

this child,

bright as Day.

Lent 19: Third Sunday of Lent

Francois Perrier - Moses Draws Water from the Rock
Francois Perrier – Moses Draws Water from the Rock
we clutch unflinching rock with closed fists,
willing water with dusty souls,
           palms closed
and eyes fixed groundward.
our hearts lock over each passing grief and seal
themselves around each rock
            as though
our minds could read eternal.
streams do not yet flow out from the ashen earth,
come sing: His hands have formed
            dry ground
and the wild stirring of the seas.

Catechism 9

What does God require in the first, second 
and third commandments?
First, that we know and trust God as the only 
true and living God. Second, that we avoid all 
idolatry and do not worship God improperly. 
Third, that we treat God’s name with fear and 
reverence, honoring also his Word and works.
(New City Catechism)

The Beginning of all things,
begin with Him:
know, trust, serve.
What breath have you
that did not pour forth from His mouth?
what life, what sight
that did not emanate from Him?

Is He contained within
the stars, the moon,
the patterns of the soil
that you may draw
a set of lines on a cave's wall and declare,
here He is! or carve
His likeness out of wood?

And what is His name
that you can barter,
beg, lie, steal
armed with it in your carry-bag,
a totem, a charm,
a licence to twist and turn His will
as though He were potters' clay.

You are the clay. Remember,
children of Adam,
the soil, the breath,
the hands that shaped and formed.
And bow; you are His likeness. Be
before Him as His image; bow
before Him and begin.

Morning Song (After Peter Steele’s “An Ordinary Evening In Kew”)

Time for my last poem for Peter Steele, this one based on his simple and delicate “An Ordinary Evening in Kew”. Less theological than the other poems I have chosen, this one is a wonderful tribute to the simple beauties of God’s gift of life.

Morning Song (After "An Ordinary Evening in Kew")

The Kensington street heats up for public holiday and I
Race the heat down hills, past flats and parklands, through
The lessening leaves that lined last week’s pavement.
Autumn yawns as summer dawns again, and slow the street
Awakes to greet the gift of sunrise without work.
In my ears the swoop of violins, and heartbeat
Growing with each downwards leap. My shins, uncertain,
Hold together for the plummet, though this is rest
Nonetheless: bodies, finite, all the same can sing
And defy the grave, though ever moving to it.
Birds’ music, poetry in movement: common grace
A sign that more than this may soon be allowed.
Welcome, street, and gambol now beside me,
Gravity negating, the dance a dreaming joy.

An Ordinary Evening in Kew - Peter Steele

On the one hand, Dante, and in the other pocket
The man who took his mind and left New Haven
For parts unknown. What were they up to,
The stoutly suited broker of our fortunes,
The burning Florentine? Watching the rain
Descend as if it chose to, giving vent
To laws at once of gravity and mercy,
I'm brought to book by earth's imagination,
The bearing of the trees, exfoliation
Of these most rambling streets, the rise of lights
Captive upon their poles and in my eyes.
Come in, you two: see if you'll make a lodging
An hour at least with the rest who wait inside,
Heads full of dreaming, bodies compelled by time.

(From Peter Steele, White Knight With Beebox: New and Selected Poems, 
John Leonard Press, 2008)

This is the day –

leaves dance in spring-wind,
                      the flowers
sit and sway and calm the street.
           The still-point-petals line the garden;
brick-walls gleam and fence-posts stand
           attentive to the silent day.

The day hums in rest;
                      the hearers
sit in garden, music in their
           unsure ears, shy before unfolding yawn.
Radiator-bars warm, the slow
           sun as yet contained in veil.

This is the day, the
                      thankful day.
Birdsong twines with road-work buzz;
           dazzled life wanders in dancing patterns.
Inattentive workers, pause:
           rejoice now and be glad.