Tag: Jesus
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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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Decency can be like morning mist, warmed by the sun of greed, may lightly flow away in greying drifts, or veiled by evil’s, darkened day. — Compassion is like the rocky cliffs, ever being pressed and smashed by the increasing anger of the sea of hearts, encased in ego’s stone.
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Who is your God?
The wise man asked, Who do you seek? “God,” we said. — Tell me about your God,” he said. — The voices crowded in: God is big so big the Universe is not big enough for him, He likes it when we listen, God wants us to be wealthy. The good to be healthy. The…
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The News
Why is my heart breaking? I hear the news on waking broken babies, hungry children, chilled by killing cold and filthy, midden like rivers flushing toxins harmfully in our seas. — Hitler rising from the grave, to bludgeon and break in waves on those who come for shelter too, friends and good people trembling so,…
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Far Right
Humanity is like the morning mist, warmed by the sun of greed there some lightly flows away in drifts, and some hangs low in valleys. —– Compassion is like the rocky cliffs, ever being pressed and smashed by the increasing anger of the sea of hearts, encased with ego’s stone.
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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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Oh God why?
Oh God! Why did you have to die? and leave us to our own devices, devoid of restraint and fuelling vices, Jesus rose and left us behind, his words of love and reconciling abound, hope lay fallow as they hid and coped, your Spirit came and filled a few, as wind and flame through them…
graceatthemargins 