Saturday, December 02, 2017

Standing on the threshold of the season

Standing on the threshold of the season
......................................a song for Advent

 

Standing on the threshold of the season,
waiting for the darkness to clear,
waiting for the travellers on their journey,
waiting for the new star to appear.
Standing midst the songs of celebration,
waiting for the dawn of that day
when the tide of time begins returning
to keep the dark of night at bay.

Standing at an inn or border crossing
waiting, always waiting, for relief
shunned or hounded by oppression,
bowed beneath the heavy load of grief.
But still we’re on the doorstep of tomorrow
still a hope, still a reason why,
still a light beyond our darkness
an answer to the prayers we cry.

Standing on the threshold of this season,
singing songs of angels and of kings
singing, always singing, for a future,
singing for the joy that singing brings.
And the song began way, way back, in glory
before the world and all created things
when the spirit sang above the waters
and the tune, like feathers, formed his wings.




Thursday, November 09, 2017

We who cannot remember



We, who cannot remember,
shed tears of grief
for fallen peace
on the battlefield of the world.
We, who lost no-one,
in empathetic mourning
grieve with the grieving
in sentry guarding their hearts.


We, who see no nightmares,
but have unquiet sleep
and tainted dreams
share a world of unpeace.


We, who walk unaided,
but limp with unsmote wounds
on hard won crimson carpets
have learned little.

Thursday, September 28, 2017

Restless



Restless, the sea,
in slap and sparring agitation,
churns colour in its tumbrel
from the rousing wake
of journeying.
Like the charnel house
jumble of dreaming
in wakeful moments,
catching uninvited
in an ambush of distraction
these days are choppy waters,
a disturbation of the even temperance
of peace and the mechanism of tides.

Friday, September 22, 2017

You fill my eyes with silence



You fill my eyes with silence;
with the deafening colour
of evening you blind my ears.
You lay a golden path
before me;
my soul walks on water
in the wondrous wake
of eventide.
Nothing is still
yet all is suspended
in the silence,
in my eyes,
in the journeying
that takes no step.