Friday, 23 February 2018

Our Child's Voice

It resides in us all...
the heartache of sadness in this unholy act of violence,
why? the word which trembles with anger and revenge,
why? its answer as rotten as the question... the sweetness gone.
lift our heads to the clarity... 
hear the song of the birds... 

It resides in us all...
remove the rubble that life has created,
walk around the obstacles... we focus at the pain its creates,
the thump in our hearts is ready to explode.
lift our heads to the clarity... 
hear the song of the birds... 

It resides in us all...
and yet I feel scared to side with the voices of descent,
the voices of the majority are in turmoil, doubt and fear,
the objects of closure, oldness and violence.
lift our heads to the clarity... 
hear the song of the birds... 

It resides in us all...
that which craves for a longing of fellowship and kindness,
that which craves for play, adventure and daring,
that which bravely steps with hope, faith and love!
lift our heads to the clarity... 
hear the song of the birds... 

It resides within each one of us,
let us deeply listen to what is wants,
let us hold to that clarity in our hearts,
and may our voices be as sweet as any bird.

Wednesday, 14 February 2018

Into the Storm

Before or After I can't remember the specific moment,
all I know is the now... the now which is so fragile.

The storm raged around me with all its savagery,
my broken self was hit and battered by others and I.

I turned to find no one... silhouettes outside the storm,
half turned or back to me?

The joys of life are not held in this turbulent cradle,
chaos swirls, the aurora borealis is manifesting around me.... if only I could really see it!

The wind is on fire,
The snow flickers into droplets of lava,

Before or After I can't remember the moments,
that caused me to change... I remember the heartbreak that caused the change.

And I will weep for a thousand years for the pain I caused.

Here I walk in the maelstrom of my actions...
why does it feel I'm on my hands and knees...
but there is a light... the light of God...
It is not in the storm I find God in,
but in the deep part of my being... I hear the silence

In the storm, with all its blustering sounds,
there is a still voice...

there is a still voice...

there is a still voice...

Holding onto the still voice and I find myself in the presence of God.

I don't remember coming from this storm...
I don't remember the processional.

But I remember the pain.
I remember thinking I was alone...

....................................................... I looked at this, for my time had come when in the storm of my life I will hear the voice of the divine.

So... come storms, rage around me, rage with all your fury, rage with all your hate, rage with all your bitterness, rage with all your pain... rage with a desire to break me.

For I will walk into the storm knowing... with the still voice of God in my heart, soul and mind.

And I will be reborn in your image in the cradle of a storm.

Saturday, 10 February 2018

What is a moral life.......

It is the original heart touched by God.

To let the ground around them be seeded with truth.

May these take root, through the winds of denial.

The possibilities of its growth are varied.

Each one of us has a germ of goodness.

Let each person give something to the ground.

May it take to the ground.

If you hear the calling within. The calling from God.

You will hear that you have a gift within this wild world.

Something glorious.

It is on this ground, on this land.... that our moral life is to be lived.

I plant my being into this world...

I plant my variances, my complexities, my hypocrisies.... as do you.

But who will be judged?

Those who have the courage to step forward...




The Interior Wound

And as I pray..... The world watches me, my head bowed, my hands clasped together in serenity, I mouth the words learned as a child. A...