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Category Archives: poetry
Peter denies the Christ
Peter denies the Christ(John 18:1-27) Malchus It was dark. Smokefrom torches refused to rise, hung about the olives and our eyes,flames close to dying as though lightitself were loath to bear witness Servant girl It was cold;the kind of springmorning … Continue reading
Posted in holy days, poetry, prayer
Tagged Garden of Gethsemane, Good Friday, Holy Week, Malchus, Maundy Thursday, Passion Gospel, Peter, Simon Peter
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The Friday Fast: Do not rush to Easter
Do not rush to Easter You may stumble over someone slowlycarrying their cross, might miss the quiet wordsof sacrifice: my body for you, my blood.Do not sleepwalk past the garden, where olive grovesgroan and dream of peace. Do not rush, … Continue reading
The Friday Fast: Sabbath
Sabbath Don’t kill time.Sit with it a little;wait for it to see you watching, slow its stride.Let it tell its story;it has been too longsince you had timeto listen. “Once,” says time,“I was at the beginningof every tale; wordswere built upon … Continue reading
The Friday Feast: Annunciation
We interrupt the Friday Fast series for the Feast of the Annunciation, the story itself of a glorious interruption … Annunciation What strange boldness to announce the Wordto his astonished Mother; Auden had it right,the falling star blitzing its way … Continue reading
Posted in holy days, poetry, prayer
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The Friday Fast: But not consumed
Spare a prayer for the shrub living on cloudbursts and sand; the will of iron would not withstand the attentions of this living fire that melts the ground to glass and on it stands mirrored in its own image kindling … Continue reading
The Friday Fast: spring snow
Like snow that falls after the daffodils have shown their colours, Friday afternoon slips in at the end of a long, slow week to whisper, “One more fast yet before the Sabbath.”
The Friday Fast: God remembers that we are dust
An occasional series for Lent 2022 This poem is also found at the Episcopal Cafe
Shrive vs shrivel
Write me the script for a new heart, O God;
scratch out a new and shriven,
unshrivelled spirit within me. Continue reading
(Holy Saturday)
How to carry the world’s pain – the cries of the children, the palsy of their great-grandparents confused with the tremors of memory; the subtle, internal turmoil that turns digestion upside down – violence is not a visitor but an … Continue reading
Yesterday is closer than it seems
Yesterday I walked past a fallout shelter sign in the “historic district” of a run-down part of town, its triune logo sunny against the greying day, repainted, no doubt, as an artefact of interest; but yesterday is closer than it … Continue reading
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