more seasonal poems

1.  Advent Coming


Advent,
Coming,
About to arrive,
In the beginning, 
Is now,
And is to come.
Advent  adventure.
Maybe begun?
To know the now
Around the corner.
Take a peep,
Make the space,
A feeding trough?
Room at the table,
Or some kind of box,
Or Room in your heart, 
In anticipation.

2. The Blessing of Sleep.

I bet it’s cold.
Very cold,
During the night
In Bethlehem.

We found no room
Where we could stay
All rooms were full
E’en if we pay.

Godsend is the body
Warmth of animals; soft hair
Who grace the stall;
Whose beds we share.

Cuddle down in hay
After all that way
‘Cos Bureaucrats
Will have their day.

Bet tomorrow
Baby will appear;
Horses sense it,
Unsounded rhythms here.

The feeding trough
Will make a cradle;
Animals make do
As best their able.

Some say a star
Shines bright out there.
We wonder why
A sky signal should declare.

“We’ll soon see,
Won’t we Mary?” Oh, – she sleeps.
She sleeps – Anticipatory.


3. Almost here.

Sun is out,
Random glimmers
Surprise among
The remaining snow.
Surprising embers
Also stir, in
The fire of yesterday.

Presents sit,
Invitingly unwrapped
In plastic bags
To identify, what
Is meant for whom.

Christmas closes in.
The gift of
Eternity
Breaking through.
Glimmers stirring.
Defrosting hearts
And turkeys too.


4. Christmas Child .

 

What will his first word be,
I am who I am,
A burning word made flesh?

Heaven’s child comes to us,
To us – belongs?
In human life enmeshed?

Staying quiet, quite a while,
Some thirty years.
Sees the world afresh!

Then shows a life of sacrifice.
An example set
To astonish and entice.

Born to show, born to life,
And die with us and so install,
a “kingdom” that is festive..

 

5. Lent as wilderness – If you are..?

Wilderness temptation?
The tempter taunts,
‘If you are the Son of …’

Go on – deny yourself.

Stones to bread –
Good Magician person?
Pinnacle leap –
With signs of ‘death-defying’?

Go on – deny yourself.


Retirement is
Wilderness temptation.
‘who are you now?’
Lost in the fog maybe.

Go on – deny yourself;

Give up the chocolate or the wine.
And question who you might become.

Not just finding
Bearings, landmarks,
But find yourself
‘past roles’ stripped away.

Go on – deny yourself.

Wilderness calls
Accusers to test us.
Actively on trial, followed
By still reflection.

Go on – deny yourself.

Can’t gain myself
If I pass the buck
To the accuser:
Like worship them instead.

Go on – deny yourself.

Wilderness is
How we are, many times.
It both shapes us
And cries out to be shaped.

—000—

“Those who find their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.”
Matthew 10:39 (NRSV)


6. Something to cry about.

Future passes by
Carrying a cross
To execute death.
Hope so soon to die?

Hope, too soon expires
As tomorrow’s life
Swept away – today.
Future? Just the end.

The women weeping,
Weeping and wailing,
Sobbing out their tears,
Washing hearts from fears.

The future disappears
Swept away with tears
“Do not weep for me”
“But society.”

Losing the future
Cradled in your arms.
Children. Grandchildren.
Born to live in death.

You sob and you cry,
And I’ll tell you why,
To halt no-future’s rebuff
Tears are not enough.

The living water
Goes. Our body dries
Cried out is dried out.
Shrivelled life replies.

“Tears may help us cope
With the un-cope-able.
They wash away despair.”
And who knows, water seeds
That have dried below,
So energy renews
Partial resurrection.


Future makes his way
Up Calgary’s hill.
Please do weep for me,
And our children.

 

7. Stretched Out

Laid out
Stretched out
On the lounger
In the Sun.

Not the same
Stretched out
On the Cross
Pinned with nails.

Yet the pain
Still real;
What is felt
Is the loss.

Promised! Lost!
Empty vista.
Promised future
My today.

And now
To say,
Today:
Gone away.

Little
Losses
Becoming
Mini crosses.

 

8. An Easter Hope

Heaven is no
City full of
Disembodied,
Hovering minds.

The body dies,
With it, the brain,
Consequently
Dying too, our mind?
Physicality
Engages with
The way we’re seen.

Resurrected
Christ, bears scars;
The scars of cross.
And by scars, Christ
Is recognised
By Thomas, friends,
And at Emmaus,
In breaking bread.

Is broken-ness
Recognised
In gazing Christ’s
Resurrection?
I wonder if
It’s also true
When here with God
In heaven’s glory.

Is it to be
Our broken-ness,
With our weakness.
Repenting sin,
All needing to
Be brought to light

For us to be
“God-recognised”?
What can it mean?
“Easter people.”


9. All Souls’ Day

Why did I wake this morning?
For what? This All Souls’ Day.
I wondered as I shaped my way.

Was it breakfast or the shower
Or was it to preside at mass
At the appointed hour.

The Mass for the Departed
In varied, gathered form
And spy the folk attending
The length of altar rail.

Tear stained hands
From flowing love
Now lost, but still enjoyed:
More than enjoyed, enjoined.

Or dried fingers, curled,
Clenched, for unrequited,
Unfulfilled ambitions rest.
The rest to yet be found?

In Christ’s Body as each receives
A small connection
With past delights,
Or else a hope, inside.

And in the blood
A drop of wine
Is wined and dined
What’s left behind
A future comes to life
If only for a second, eternity is rife.

 

 

 

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