Wednesday, 21 June 2017

A prayer under a bushel

Our gathering of friendship is held with common causes and common values.

But our commonality is at odds with the world.

Our gathering is laced with kindness and reason.

The world is slashed with brutality and chaos.

Our gathering is laced with compassion and charity.

The world is broken with selfishness and greed.

Our gathering is laced with tenderness and understanding.

The world is cracked with pain and ignorance.

Our gathering is laced with Hope.

For we reside in both worlds, are gathering is not in a bubble, we must learn to lace together our commonality in our beautiful broken world and mend it as best we can.

We step into the world with the causes and values on our heart so the world knows who we are.

Our gathering will not be hidden....

Our love shall not be hidden!

Tuesday, 13 June 2017

I forgive you

I offer an open hand in peace and truth.

I offer an open heart in love and kindness.

I offer an open mind in reason and wisdom.

I offer an open home in warmth and shelter.

I offer these things to you.

I offer these things in hope that our past deeds and words can be forgiven.

When the pain has eased.

When the hurt is no more.

When the light shines through the haze and a path is seen.

I forgive you.... for my road is clear and a new journey will rest with my being.

Saturday, 10 June 2017

The deep love of wolves

The unbridled joy of companionship,
they nestle into each other as one,
their oath, written on ancient manuscript, 
their bond is stronger when they run. 

Their sense of belonging is beyond our knowing, 
when parted, no human can taste their grief.
Only a few of us have this this harrowing,

If we find that call, our love won’t be that brief. 


Sunday, 4 June 2017

Many Mansions

I got lost on the road to Eldorado,
I turned upon the strangest road,
There dwelled many mansions,
The gateways swung open and free,
And there in every entrance way stood a heavenly angel.
Each reading various Authors, Hemingway, Shelly and the Bronte sisters.
Joyce, Byron and Keats.
Milton, Tartt and Moliere.

And all the while laughter was in the air.
And all the while hospitality was in every garden.
And all the while, without notice, an angel held my hand whispering in my ear.
"The road to Eldorado will never be found, the road you seek is the road with many mansions".

I woke from my dream.


Thursday, 1 June 2017

leaf on the wind

Released from its certainity.
Fear clings to its nourishment.
The storm snaps them, and with reluctance they fly into the unknown, (with acceptance).

But I'm a leaf on the wind.
Where no storm was invited.
Letting go knowingly into the unknown.
True freedom flourishes with resentment.


Wednesday, 31 May 2017

the prayer to the poor

Hear my prayer.

Beauty in the fractured souls,
Let there be Hope in their being.
May the divine ease their suffering.

This is our prayer.

May their plate be filled with food.
May their heart be filled with Joy and Serenity.
May they have a restful sleep, undisturbed by fear and dread.

This is our prayer

Heavenly Father.
Heavenly Mother.

Bring shelter to the fragile ones.
Forgiveness for their errors.
May they find a courageous soul for their fragile voice!
May our hard and cold hearts, soften and warm to their choices.

This is our prayer

Jesus died for us.
His resurrection is our second chance.





Saturday, 6 May 2017

a tender dream of adventure

Lost in the coves of pure creation,
adrift on the waves of uncertainty.
Wide-eyed innocence staring down upon me.
Wide-eyed unknowing staring into eternity.

It's quiet voice whispers to me.....
'Who are you stranger; in our world of yesterday, 
who dreams of our tomorrows?'

Keeping balance in my floating world,
my paddle skims the surface of my mortality.
It sinks into the depth of my being when still,
holding the vista that the millenniums birthed.

It's quiet voice whispers to me.....
'Who are you stranger, in our world of yesterday, 
who dreams of our tomorrows?'

I Sing!
'My purpose is to hold...
My purpose is to bring hope... 
My purpose is to bring laughter... 
My purpose is to love...
My purpose is to stand on the brink!'

It's quiet voice whispers to me....
'You are not a stranger; for this is the world of the now,
who lives with the possibilities.'

~


Friday, 5 May 2017

Crystal clear shard

It protrudes through the ebbs,
It lies waiting with its millions and billions,
Static.
Partially hidden.
Waiting.
Patience my friend. 
Patience my friend. 


Be gentle when you take that shard from the sands.
It took millions of years to be formed and find its home.
Easing it from its sojourn's rest and holding it in your palm.
That crystal clear shard.


Thursday, 4 May 2017

an act of kindness

It holds that moment forever in my heart,
reverberating in my being for eternity.
When it seems it came from nothing,
When it seems it came from out of the blue.

There was a gentleness to their decision,
which encompasses itself in the realm of peacefulness.
There was no judgement in their tone,
which accompanies itself with a tender smile.

For a brief spark, a spark for an instant,
Our senses fused in knowing each other.
And in that brief exchange in time and place,
An act of kindness changed my world.



Wednesday, 3 May 2017

The Splintered Darkness.

I've roamed around in my cave,
I've seen the light around the stone, 
But I have watched the splintered darkness,
the stone has yet to be rolled away. 

The fragility of our souls.
The harshness and love I have felt, 
The hopes that have washed away into eternity.........
The love that is held by you and me. 

I've roamed around in my cave, 
I've seen the aura around that stone, 
But I have watched the splintered darkness,
the stone has yet to be rolled away. 

I stand on a pillar with bridges expanding to all, 
burning the bridges was envitable and grace smiles upon me. 
The Truth will wash my brokenness. 
Freedom beckons me onwards, to be who I am. 

I'm roaming around my cave...
and I catch the brightness around the stone,
But I'm watching the splintered darkness, 
the stone has yet to be rolled away. 

My soul has been asleep by the concerns of others, 
My soul's creative power has drowned in my own doubt. 
and the storm has been and gone and I have survived. 
and the landscape of my wilderness surrounds me. 

I'm staring at my hands in my cave.....
and I see the stone around the daylight.
and I catch the splintered darkness in those hands, 
the stone is yet to be rolled away! 

My weakness must be transparent, 
The raven is not that great. 
But we all have a strength in the substance of our souls. 
It is time to roll away that stone. 

I have rolled away that stone.
I embrace the beauty of the world.
My only soul open and broken...
My only soul broken and open...



Wednesday, 15 March 2017

Hinc Illae Lacrimae

I have wept for so many nights.
I have thought long and hard.
That my life is short....for all life is too short.
The longing of life.... is to sing in the wind.

I have wept for so many nights.
I have turned to those things...
That this coil is worthy of better things.
Those decisions made will always be waiting.

I have wept for so many nights.
And he held my hand with love.
And he held my words with reason.
And he held my actions with compassion.

Hinc Illae Lacrimae...


Sunday, 19 February 2017

A fallen angel

In the gloom and vast darkness,
shards of light are trinkets of rarity,
there she lay, chained to the cold rock,
her wings wrapped around her coil,
battered and broken, feathers scattered.

Her golden hair ripped and ragged!
Her luminosity drowned by doubt,
Her silken muslin, charred with despair.
Her being draped with unparalleled gravitational pressure.

Her chiselled cheek bones
Her eyes.....oh her eyes...
They saw their souls and this is her punishment!
Chained to the rock of Judgement.

Her wrongs minor.
Her error....an error.
Her past totally forgotten!

                           ..............and there she waits for authority to give her the final blow.




Friday, 17 February 2017

A glass of water

Painting by Lorraine Rigby. 2017
It seems inconsequential as it rests on the table top.
Surrounded in transparent fusion.
It seems it has no story to tell.
Surrounded in transparent fusion.

O' it has a story!
It is the story of life...
and in a simple drop lies the mystery of the universe
and in a simple drop lies the creation of our being
and in a simple drop lies the abundance of our creativity
and in a simple drop lies the beginning of our history

It seems inconsequential as it rests on the table top.
Surrounded in transparent fusion.
It is the story of all stories.
Drink deep and know everyone's origin.

Thursday, 16 February 2017

The Way of Joy

And the child opposite me took my hand,
her curious blue eyes tilted my soul,
tilted it to where it should always be,
I then heard the Way of Joy sing to my heart.

The veil of sorrow has been taken away,
and my ego has been melted in the snow!

Painting by Lorraine Rigby. 2017
Not before I have corrected the wrongs
Not before Father Time has released Truth,
Let her fly with Justice -
Let them stand their ground with Authority and Love!

My Superheroes!

And the child opposite me took my other hand,
her curious blue eyes locked in my soul,
a place where I felt something more than me,
I then felt the Way of Joy being in my heart!

The veil of sorrow has been taken away,
and my ego has been melted in the snow!

Their hands reached out...
Time...
Truth...
Justice...
Authority....
Love.....
.........................................and with Courage they pursued without restraint!

And the Ten Ways of Sorrow were understood,
and the Way of Joy was sung into the heart of my being.




Wednesday, 15 February 2017

Tenth Way of Sorrow

Nobility and Strength brought them all to the mount.

They huddled together for the breaking of the Mothers Heart.
Anguish ripped her throat of voice.
Anguish drowned all thoughts of hope.
Anguish crushed her desire of being.

His garments stripped from his mortal coil!
The Man! Thrown onto the wooden scaffold,
Pain immeasurable - traversing every part of him.

The thunder like strike upon iron - tearing through his palms and feet.

Hoisted up...........................................

And he stood.
In his armour
his spear standing true
his stomach weak from all this pain
his heart weak from all this suffering
his mind weak from all the relentlessness

Each strike, 
Each scream of anguish.
Blinded him from the dream of possibilities.
And as he was raised for all to see,
he was summoned for a final act.....

They gathered at the foot of his ending.........
........................................................................
....................
He smiled.....
               then looked to the west
                                     then held the soldier in his heart. 
                                                         and his death fell upon the world with a cry to God,

and the Tenth Way of Sorrow was sung into the brutal and darkened heart.





                                                           





Ninth Way of Sorrow

As she was dragged away....
the full weight of the horror fell upon him.

Under the weight he lay and remembered.

"We will always be here for you My Master"

He leaned into him.....
,
"Disciple, you will deny me on this very night"

"What madness My Master, I would never break your heart"

Embracing him with no malice "Three times you will relinquish all knowing."

"My Master, I have no intentions of our relationship being a burden"

".... it is the choice you will make that will make who you are......"

Bringing him closer

"But let not your past define your whole being"

Jolted by the screams of frustration and impatience,
he awoke from his momentarily rest-bite.
And from the crowds his Disciple was seen...
Quivering all over, his face sullen and tired.

and so the Ninth Way of Sorrow was sung into the bitter heart.


Eighth Way of Sorrow

His decision of doing nothing was an action,
an action of allowing,
letting others to open themselves to their own selfish desires.

She fell into her room,
She ranted and wailed at the heavens!
She ranted at powerlessness!
She ranted at womanhood!
Her anger grew as loud as any trumpet!

She wept with deep heart ache.

But there was resolve, a steel no man could match!

She tore through the street
she ripped through the soldiers and those who mean harm.

She clasped upright the man who was condemned.
Eye to Eye they face each other,
And for a moment the weight of horror laid upon both of them.

The soldiers wept for the tenderness that followed

His palm rested upon her face with love.

"Do not weep for me, daughter of the world, let no tear be upon your loveliness"

and so the Eighth way of Sorrow was sung into the regretful heart.

Monday, 13 February 2017

Seventh Way of Sorrow

As he fell for the second time,
under the weight and pain,
no matter how much support was given,
he remembered.....

....how it started with a kiss!

....and at the edge of a strong tree stood that man,
with guilt in his eyes,
for the envy of his being
but he longed for justice,
but justice had changed into a monster and it dragged the song of sorrow to his end.

The truth met across that road,
under that tree his final act will be upon this world.
But the sufferer did not want the divine story written this way.
What sort of author was he?!

He raised himself with all his strength,
"Not that way, you always followed a painful way..... I am the way!"
But this was lost on the wind, for there was no strength in his song...

and the Seventh Way of Sorrow was sung in the jealous heart.




Sixth Way of Sorrow

She saw him being supported.
The procession faded up that dreaded mount.
She picked up the veil that was blown from her hand.

Her beauty was radiant.
Her heart was torn.
Her decision was made for acceptance and survival

She folded her veil and placed it with the other fragrant cloths.
The distant jeers and attacks were fading in her being,
As she continually folded the linen...

and so the Sixth Way of Sorrow was sung in the regardless heart

Fifth Way of Sorrow

They jeered and shouted at him.
They pushed and shoved him.
They attacked and cursed him.
It was a mindless display of society.

And in the shaded room, the two Sons stared at their Father.
His tears glistened in the darkness.
From the darkness the light shines the brightest!
The Son's saw their Fathers resolve.

Under the weight of horror and turmoil, 
each step was screaming for relinquishment. 
They taunted in a mindless voice,
harbouring their own anxieties on this poor wretch.

Then the beholder of generosity and strength, 
broke into the mindlessness of cathartism,
and the two sons lamented for the mob
and the mob looked into their own being...

The swell of the wretch's heart as they stared into each others being,
The Father took the burden for a while....
The Father took his pain.... just for a while.... 

and so the Fifth Way of Sorrow was sung into the thoughtless hearts. 

Fourth Way of Sorrow

Her husband consoled her of the news.
Her daughter with the same name fell to her knees.

She took her hand and pleaded to go to see him,
"His footfalls will echo into eternity."

The other, with the same name, entered with fury!
"Come you fools, do not indulge in your suffering"

But she wailed and failed her son.

"Mother, each moment is passing by - do not hesitate."

But she wailed and failed her son.

"Mother-in-law, each moment is passing by - hear your daughter."

But she wailed and failed her son.

And the father could not bear it any longer...

The roar of the crowd could be heard,
the jeers and shouts of delight.

With a broken heart, who took no part in their foul decisions,
he entered with curiosity in his eyes.... they fell upon the Mother.

"Why leave him alone?"

"I have failed him....my wailing and lingering have left him alone."

But with nobility and strength, we can face the hardships,
we hold ourselves to courage, hope, and faith...

and so the Fourth Way of Sorrow was sung into our hesitant hearts.

Painting by Lorraine Rigby. 2017. 

Sunday, 12 February 2017

Third Way of Sorrow

Painting by Lorraine Rigby. 2017
They were relentless in their arrogance!
Their shouts and screams made no sense. 

He did listen...
He wanted to understand... 
He remained open to the end... 

But they were suffering and they didn't want to face the mirror,
content in their knowing, in their imagined reflection, 

He did listen...
He wanted to understand...
He remained open to the end... 

They mocked him every chance they could get, 
every opportunity of so called error was waded upon. 

He did listen...
He wanted to understand...
He remained open to the end... 

But as he lay underneath the wooden frame, 
his life was to end by anger and arrogance,
the fuel that kept burning in their hearts, 
was of despair and hidden truth. 

He raised the wooden scaffold for all to see, 
to know that he will continue on his road, 
but by doing so.... 

                         .....an opportunity was lost by all... 

and the Third Way of Sorrow was sung into our intimidated hearts! 

~

Second Way of Sorrow

She had been washing her linen,
    her linen was fragrant and sweet.
   
She heard the voices of fury and despair,
   it brought her out to see the crowds.

Her beauty was held in terror and heartache,
   her features frozen in sympathy and powerlessness.

She grabbed her veil and ran to the poor man,
   what wrong had he done?

As he fell under the weight of his sacrifice,
   his bloody scared face unrecognisable.

She fell with grace and respect,
  he raised his sorrowful image before her.

With dream like elegance she gave her veil,
  the weight of human error fell with no remorse.

He brought the veil to his face and soaked the injuries,
  the freshness of love and kindness washed over him.

The crowds gathered round the fallen rebel,
  he stared at the woman with the veil.

She was frozen in profile, scared to approach the mob,
  her veil fell to the land in sadness

.....and the Second Way of Sorrow was sung into the hearts of those who standby and dream.




Painting by Lorraine Rigby. 2017

Friday, 10 February 2017

First Way of Sorrow

Her husband was anxious and she prayed.

He couldn't sleep....

                          a decision was to be made.

She longed to council and support him.

They stared - into - each other...

His tenderness empowered by her love.


But.... the powers that be and the voices of populism sang their tune!
Internal Politics Made Public!
They wanted that Man to suffer for his claims and deeds.

She wept in her room,
"Grant my husband the power to do what is noble and right!"

But.... his empowerment was strangled by their selfish desire.

And as she slept,
the world of dreams reinforced what was true in her being.
She woke with dreams in her hands!
She woke knowing the truth, that these hands, will make your deeds noble and true!
People will then know who you are, with love in all that your say and do.
Painting by Lorraine Rigby. 2017

The meeting had taken place.
Her husband sat upon the throne of judgement.

There before him, that Man stood,
Her eyes rested upon him.... and the dream came true.

She then whispered into her husband's ear,
"He is innocent my love, have nothing to do with this matter"

He raised himself disregarding his wife patiently and gently,
he then washed his hands and walked away.

The mob cheered and the First Way of Sorrow was sung into our being.


~

Wednesday, 8 February 2017

Florentine Tango

The music begins.....

He acknowledges the woman, her dress defines her,
She is beautiful...
She is strong...
She is determined to follow his part.

The look of approval is given,
His hand reaches out gently for her,
Their hands are bonded...
and she judges him gently, so gently...

Painting by Lorraine Rigby. 2017
                      ....as they both enter an embrace,

They are close enough to know they are two beings
but then, he hears the note, which indicates unification.
They are one entity, dancing to the melancholic romantic music,
The masculine walks with hunger and desire,
The feminine walks with desire and hunger!

The Latin American cacophony makes him turn,
he opens himself to her, but never is there a moment she leaves him empty,
she turns into the emptiness,
her loveliness is equalled by his vulnerability.

His weight poised in secrecy,
but she always knows the puzzle,
she follows with all the answers,
his elaborate questions have been responded.

The bond is hypnotic!

The music comes to an end,
and like waking from a dream,
They remember fragments of their magical tale they created,
They remember for a moment their souls connected.


Tuesday, 31 January 2017

wake up.

He believes he’s righteous and justified.

He believes it to be so....

The letter to the Ancient Italian “for there is no authority except from God, and those authorities that exist have been instituted by God”.

It is written…. and they believe.

O’ they believe, the quiet ones!

They will be pushed, they will be shouted at, they will be cried upon in horror, they will poke that fiery ego….
                       And then, hidden in the belly of that continent, it will come from its cave.
With its Righteous Anger!

And it will slaughter those who pushed, shouted, cried and poked!

O’ the liberal has prejudice,
O’ the voice of the margins will slip out in fury, unnoticed…

Its voice lost.
We never truly understood.
We became arrogant in our righteousness.

He has been before and he will come again.
He believes….
I retreat…… into the reasonable shores of the continent.
 
Let not the covering of history be looked upon with, ‘what if’'



into the wild

They illuminate the arched dome,
the ceiling of humanity glittered and sparkled,
the natural fireworks brought wonder to my heart, 
the tidal waves of colour floated across the heavens. 

I held my spear, the sharp in the air! 
The frozen world glistened in the moonlight.
the majestic mountains monitored our world,
the landscape of the wild will test my being. 

My hand slips into the fur of my companion,
his ice blue eyes waiting for the rush, 
awaits for the work that he longs for, 
awaits for the pleasure in his purpose. 

The frozen particles of the air rush,
rush into my lungs................
........................................... I hunger for my purpose.
I hunger for what is longing in my deep self.

The landscape of wonder is breaking, 
my other companions stir and prepare. 
Painting by Lorraine Rigby. 2017
I turn to my belongings, wrapped with practicality and love,
the motionless frozen twilight has been stirred!

"Mush, Mush!" 

Joy leaps into the heart of my companions, 
the jolt of the sledge jumps with gladness. 
The blades cut through the ancient ground, 
Scars sliced into the unknown world.

I'm bound for adventure....






Sunday, 29 January 2017

Let us remake the world!

Let us stop!

Let us remake the world!
Painting By Lorraine Rigby. 2017

No one says it has to be this way!


clasp my open hand

Painting by Lorraine Rigby. 2017
He stood outside, his breath was fast and angry,
the people laughed and drank inside.

A hand reached out, palm facing the heavens,
reaching for food and love.
The old widow forced to give her final pennies,
She entered with tears in her eyes......

He gripped his weapon, favoured by all employers.
He whispered his mantra....
"My house shall be called a house of prayer for all nations, but you have made it a robber’s' den"

He stepped into the shrine of greed and gold,
the place was a sanctuary for all, but it was soiled by corrupt ambition.
He spoke clearly.
"My house shall be called a house of prayer for all nations, but you have made it a robber’s' den".

They turned.... "Who is this madman?"
Who is this that would disrupt the status quo,
he flung the tables in the air and beat those who did not care,
and he shouted,
"My house shall be called a house of prayer for all nations, but you have made it a robber’s' den"

the hero for the marginalized is within our being,
clasp my open hand, my friend!




Wednesday, 25 January 2017

That Sinking Feeling

O God hear my prayer..... 

It seemed everything was fine and dandy.
It seemed...........

I made plans!

I had been conscious and considerate of others.
I had been mindful of every action....
                                                       ..... sacrificing my own being for others. 

I thought I prepared the way. 

It was a minor thing. 
It was inconsequential. 
It blindsided me! 

And all the good, all the considerate thoughts and deeds, fell around me. 
FELL AROUND ME

I am in despair of my mistakes.

O' Child of God hear me...

I hear your despair and sorrow.
Lift up your heart and let the tears stop flowing 
Your deeds of compassion and consideration will live long in the heart and minds of others!
A single mistake.... measured for the whole you, are measured by those who wish you harm. 
A single mistake.... is measured for what it is. 
A single mistake.... is measured for what it is.... the measure of your life should encompass all of your life and not just that mistake. 

You were born to make mistakes.... by not learning from them, this is a tragic mistake.... 

O' Child.... I embrace you with love!

Painting by Lorraine Rigby. 2017
I take you by the shoulders and whisper.....

"The harshest Soul is the kindest human, for they are layered with self-criticism and doubt, they put others before themselves and live with sorrow and eternal hope, I know you child of God


Wednesday, 18 January 2017

The Dream of Intervention

I took his hand....

Painting by Lorraine Rigby. 2017
"Perhaps, that's all it is...."

The struggle and desire of the heart are lost with expectation. 
Until we become wise enough not to care....and too late to do anything about it? 

But the young are held in our hands...
They are cradled with a noble expectation...

I tighten my grip....
"They have hope and longing in their eyes........."

Our broken wisdom looks back at old days with longing. 
The future in our hearts and minds is beautiful.... for God within longs for it, 

The kingdom of God is within!
Tears of joy are falling my friend.  

I bring him close and hold him tightly...
"I am here for you.......

Over his shoulder I watch them pretend that all is well in the world, 
his heart and mind broken, shattered... not knowing. 

Then, like a sudden wind, the messenger appeared by my side. 
and rested their heart upon mine..... 

My smile is victorious and the sudden wind scattered the broken wisdom into a thousand parts. 

His eyes were full of knowing. 
We stared into the world with a glimpse of the dream. 











Saturday, 14 January 2017

the fearless song

my conscious thoughts are concealing the deep anxiety...

my heart is thundering when I'm alone...

my body trembles under the warmth that surrounds me...

my spirit is vexed by the spirit that is vexed...

my soul is singing to me, a song of fear.

The song is full of dischord, the inner harmony has forgotten its melody

Painting by Lorraine Rigby. 2017
My tune is out of sync.......

But as I close my eyes in prayer....

But as I close my ears in prayer...

But as I control my breadth in prayer...

But as I relax the body in prayer...

                                                          I become aware,
                                           
                                                                                        and I feel the presence of God wash upon me, I hear my parents song, they hold me..................................

and it passes and I hear my new song!

A brave new song!

A song that will be rivalled by no other!


Thursday, 12 January 2017

Technician of the Soul

Weaving through the fabric of time and space...
They inevitably come into our lives....
Their presence as sharp as any needle...
They are ready to slip through - knowing or unknowing - into our being.

They splash into the alchemy of our thoughts and feelings,
They stir the bubbling cauldron of our consciousness,
They pour that ingredient that was long missing,
When others taste our presence we have become.......


Weaving through the fabric of time and space...

and we inevitably come into other lives....
we are that presence which is as sharp as any needle...
Let us be ready to slip through - knowing or unknowing - into their being.




Tuesday, 10 January 2017

It was my doing

I had nothing.

I had no one. 

It was all my doing. 

I stared at my empty hands.... facing to the heavens. 

No divine intervention. 

The wind came, the chill made me warm. 

The company I did not expect, wrapped me up, 

It encircled me, a forever a constant!  

The nerve endings have not gone away.

The hairs on my arms stand, signalling a reaction.

But my desire of feeling has gone. 

The air is salty...

My lungs are full of joy and memory...

I grip the railing and stare into timelessness 

the ripples reflect regret....

It was all my doing. 

I didn't want that tear, but it fell,

The tear broke the ripple and my reflection of regret transformed into agony. 

The railing melted under by strength...

I stand welcoming God in my despair.

His presence precisely where it should be........

It was my doing.... 

Monday, 2 January 2017

A Spiritual Comedy. Act 2

Enter The Desire, he picks up the conkers, he stares at the tree....

Enter The Soul........The Soul stares at The Desire......


The Soul Coughs...... 



Silence

The Soul Coughs......

Pause

The Soul Coughs......

The Desire: Damn it, what? 

The Soul: I thought we were going to the pub? 

The Desire: I had a moment. 

The Soul: A moment? 

The Desire: Yes, A moment..... is it okay for me, to find oneself. If I could find the french for finding oneself, I would give an expletive in french to give it that.....

The Soul: Je Ne Sais Quoi?

The Desire: Precisely.......

Pause 

The Soul: This Moment, what is it doing to you?

The Desire: Are you my shrink all of a sudden?

The Soul: God Damn it... I'm only asking....you were staring at the tree long enough.

The Desire: I only came for the conkers...

The Soul: Well you have them, let us go....

The Desire: Are you joking.... I'm having this MOMENT, and you want to go to the Pub!

The Soul: Are you joking..... that's all you ever wanted.......wasn't it?

The Desire: I don't know?

The Soul: We prayed, we communed with that which is indescribable are you not satisfied?

The Desire: Really, Honestly, You Must Be Mad..... I'm I Ever?

The Soul: What can we do then

The Desire: ......I'm not sure, but something is quelling inside (Desire Smiles)

Enter The Messenger.

The Messenger: I come with good tidings!

The Desire and The Soul stare

The Messenger stares. 

The Soul: I think we have done this

The Desire: This is Act 2?

The Messenger: I understand! Behold I bring you.....

The Desire:                                                               I'm going to stop you right there, I'm not going through all that again.

The Messenger: erm....

The Soul: I think he has lost for words.....

The Desire: We're off script, my friend, go with it, feel it, trust your feelings, play with those emotions...

The Soul: Poor Soul...

The Messenger: Ermm......Behold I Br...

The Desire:                                         ....NO!

The Soul: Poor Soul!

The Desire: Don't feel sorry....The Messenger has to learn.

The Soul: I think The Messenger is having a Moment.

The Desire: By all the gods and goddesses and all that which is between, I think he is.

Enter The Unknown Reluctantly

The Unknown: Thought I better come into this conversation.

The Desire: Oh No, You can remove yourself from here right now.

The Soul: I  think The Desire is right, off your pop.

The Messenger: Get away from me...

The Desire: You heard The Messenger.

The Desire Grabs The Unknown and drags him to the audience and places him at the feet of a member. 

The Desire: All the rules are out the window now, keep The Unknown here.

The Desire grabs The Messenger and takes The Messenger to the Tree. 

The Soul: Things are going to get weird in Act three. (To the Audience)

The Desire: Have your moment my friend.

They all stare in stillness and silence.

The Unknown crawls away from the audience and clings onto the tree. 

Silence 

The Soul: I think we're not supposed to know The Unknown is there.

The Desire: Are you content?

The Messenger: I'm going home now....

The Desire: You are home, you have always been at home, they have taken your home away from you. Your home is my home, this is not its home (He points to the Unknown). It has always been part of our home.

The Messenger takes The Unknown by the hand....

The Messenger: Teach me in our moments.

The Unknown: (Smiles)

The Messenger and The Unknown exit. 


Silence

The Soul: Well that was certainly a moment.

The Desire: It certainly was.

They both sit down under the tree and play conkers in silence. 

Lights fade to blackout

Finish