Tag: Jesus
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The Crown of Thorns
Blood dripped on the floor as he plaited, The Cruel Crown. To inflict pain always causes pain. No one knew the cost of those long, deep piercing nail like thorns. No one asked. Who picked the branches wove them and who forced them on Christ’s head? Did he look Jesus in the eye? Was it…
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Three Wise Men
The heights were cold in the old bones,the lowland warmthe desert hot in the dayand freezing by night.Still they came, a paradeseeking God, who had called themwith a star. Many a night huddled for warmth,they sought other signsbut only a star in a cold bright skyanswered them with mystery. Many months passed and many sights…
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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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The Angel in the Flak Jacket
The Angel stood tall, the flak jacket contrasting carefully his glowing, golden skin. A man caressed his clattering, carnage making machine gun, ——– a tear crept from the corner of his eye and slowly slid down his cheek. While the soldier considered the hungry endangered crowds for another kill. —– The child lay at the…
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Crisis
I waken, crying, for the Middle East eruption, corruption, for the Russian occupation of a sovereign nation for women and children fleeing before raping soldiers, desperately seeking food, shelter, safekeeping. -=-=- I watch the news with sinking feelings, leads to kneeling and crying out they’re stealing the lives of children, breaking promises, torturing prisoners, hostages…
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The Healing Poet?
(Inspired by R S Thomas) Dipping his head the poet drank from the depths of his soul, there in his woundedness lay memories of such pain, Remember me they cry, we can wound again, write us out, share our bane. ——– Still, he wrote, and I’ve heard, a despair sore, poems written, stored,…
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The hauntings
Lord, where is hope? I am haunted by the pictures, of children, broken bodies, stumps where legs have been, — Lord where is hope? I am haunted by the bombs, shootings and drones. How can they aim them at human beings? — Lord where is hope? I am haunted by the parents on Bluesky asking…
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Christmas 2024
The cold is slowing our brains as we sit in unheated homes the dirty water in our mains, and still bitter Covid roams. — Children wanting this and that, poor parents pulled into a trap, Grandparents only affording tat, and still the prices – where’s the cap? — There’s a Christmas sparkly Fairy, and lights…
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