It was on the sandy quay, rusting amongst the lobster pots and shells and tangled nets. It lay unmoving and I tried its weight, iron heavy, covering my sandy hands with golden, rust dust, and I wondered how it felt to have them tightly wound around my wrists and how I would struggle, fumble and… Continue reading Chains
Tag: Easter
Sacred Sunrise
The candles burned brightly in the temple, repaired the curtains and ordered the day, while down in the fields a body, dead lay. ——– Relieved they slept through a golden dawn and missed the signs that God was about, missed the glory of dying being bested. ——- The sun burnished creation that morning and made… Continue reading Sacred Sunrise
Humility
Humility they say is nature’s way, and the converse a despotic state, with xenophobic policies and warring natures, creating a climate of fear. — Is God humble? Arrogant? Cruel? Was the fruit a test or a taunt? The haloed angels a health warning? The violence and retribution His? —- ‘If you have seen me you… Continue reading Humility
The Waiting
Holy Saturday Hushed was the garden where he lay, birds silently watched and soft wings of many hued butterflies flit to and fro alight on the stone as if they could prise it open and find their Lord within. —– In Bethany tears flowed, work stopped, food untouched, and shocked bodies slumped,, and talking tried… Continue reading The Waiting
The Road to Emmaus
We were walking between fields spotted with red anemones, corn growing strong, and across the greened land the trees lifted their faces to the lowering sun and the growing dark. —– The air felt cool on our tight skin, and the sour smell of dust rose up in our footsteps with the grief in our… Continue reading The Road to Emmaus
The Gethsemane of the last Supper
Blood, boils, frogs, hail, came the children’s cries, and soft silence as they remembered the first born sons – like me, he thought and will I be recalled? He watched their faces, joined in the swell, but shakily. His last feast with his family of meandering men and wise women before violence and death. —-… Continue reading The Gethsemane of the last Supper
Palm Sunday
As we enter into the winter of our discontent the Son of God rides into Jerusalem on the back of a donkey that was wild; until he felt the touch of the Christ child grown. Like the unridden, but bidden that we are, to be broken in by the gentle touch of hands that were… Continue reading Palm Sunday
The Harrowing of Hell
Is it within, without, was it always someone else’s tool that they used to abuse, confuse and cruise their hate through another’s quick crisis. ——- Hell hath no fury? Give them hell. Hell is – other people said Sartre, The road to hell is paved with – good intentions. I felt like hell; are ——-… Continue reading The Harrowing of Hell