Tag: death
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The Fragrant Blessing of Hope
Mary speaks part 2 I cannot go on. My heart is dead, a blackness entered my soul and his battered body is ever before my face. I am empty, any pride in him is gone. Was any of it true? Oh I need Joseph he would remind me of the words of angels, God sent…
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I Cannot do this
Part One – Mary speaks:- I cannot do this, I cannot be this. He is my baby. I feel as though a sword has pierced my soul. — I cling to Mary Magdalene as she clings to me. What sense is this? His work is not finished. What can he do when dead? — My…
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Autumn Dance
Over the dying countrysidethere the grace of God glows,As death reachesfor the green foliage,so, the creator reachesFor a palette. A rainbow of colours,exotic in array.Covenanted to returninexuberant joyAs the faithful SpringtimeReveals her plenty. Shall we dance thenin the joy of Autumnand rise in the gloryof our Spring?
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Kneeling at the Cross
It was the kneeling that showed me, ‘Look up’ came the voice I glanced up and saw a new thing, Jesus as they would have see him. Not a cross as a crucifix, But bound arms pleading for release to touch, to heal, to tenderly care, but his feet – blood…
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The Cost
Roughly handled, bruising flesh, deliberately hurting grabbed wrists, tied to abloody post, clothes ripped away from his now public exposed, vulnerable back. — Bowed to the inevitable, he prayed for the men around, and as the first stroke struck his soft flesh, he groaned, and prayed for healing for creation, hearing its screams. — Each…
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The Tears of a Refugee
Tenderly he lifted her like a merchant with fine china, he laid her on the grass and called her name, no answer, he heard as she listened only to the dear departed and already had forgotten his tenderness. —- Slowly she sank into the grass as if she was longing for her grave. He walked…
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Deadly Climate Crisis.
The lonely sparrow fidgeted in the hedge, while down below an adder slowly stirred, above the magpie chattered on its ledge, soaring the buzzard stared at the bird. — The heated fiery sun burned their backs, the haze mimicked the mirage of water, a house, closed against the hostile, faces a hope’s that’s fast diminishing.…
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Refugee Children in the Hold.
A child can only look on knees, frail, loud, loving and free, hunting beetles, shedding tears, smelling the earth, ‘It’s nearer to me!’ —– A child can only look on knees, and spider webs’ silvery droplets, marvelling at the moon and stars, splashing in cool, cerulean seas. —- A child can only look on knees,…
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The Swift Migrant.
A swift circled the blue, blue sky, another joining a long pilgrimage, journeying through jagged mountains. countries and places endangering their fragile, feathered lives. Those arriving are welcomed. Watching their flight we raise happy faces to a cerulean heavens of their grace. ==== Travelling thousands of long miles, they, like each refugee seek shelter,…
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The Trenches
Mud like superglue, makes battle grim, mountains of slimed clothes, never clean, boots feel like leaden weights and the humble sandwich tastes like dirt. — The sweet face of a friend sinks down, leaving the grief to to fight and show that this hell is more than enough, and bitterness bloats the corpse. —- Precious…
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