Here he is!

Cinquain

Starting

that's the hardest

the rest falls into place

probably guided by God's hand

stopping

50 Words

It's all inside 

the trick is to find the tap

valve door or gap

thin place at any rate

place where knowing and being in charge

let's say

are less important than

letting go and seeing what happens

having the faith to erase that which is making meaning

easy then.

300 Words

The creative truth is nearer than we like to think

like God

waiting for you to be still enough

present in this moment

prayer-full in some way and yet 

in other ways constantly flowing like a river or a stream.

There is a tiny brook which runs under our houses it links us to the stream

and in turn to the river and the sea.

Then suddenly there he is

popping out of the page

this gentle clumsy giant with bundled flowers

longing for his innocence to be noticed

ignorant in the ways of love

feeling a great rush inside

unsure of what it means or how to handle it

there is s tremendous strength here which would overwhelm you 

crush you with his cumbersome love

he blunders into your world

unashamed

lacking in the social graces 

unrefined immanent

Probably a blacksmith

great hulk of a man

forged himself in fire and ice

over the millennia

weathered now

seeking something

more than friendship

less than love

committed only to the fire 

which breathes life

Maybe a sharecropper

aware of the obligation he has

to family and land

returning home for dinner

noticing by the side of the field some posies

thoughtfully plucking them from the earth

table decoration

gifted from the earth

of no commercial value 

but being that which makes the hard work bearable

maybe me

maybe you

maybe everyone

that part of us which is strong and gentle

aware that there is nothing we need more than

a sign every now and then

kisses from the sun

changes in the season

birdsong

trickle of brook

graces beyond measure poured upon us

it's as simple as that

no meaning 

or explanation

just moments when the heart beats a little faster 

or tears smile through a half forgotten memory.

Coming and Going

Cinquain

Coming

out of the ground

sometimes it's hard to tell

between the autumn and winter

going

50 Words
There is that time,
the mornings are chilly,
the geese start their melancholic tones
warning of the impending changes.
First swallow,
first geese, lime and chestnut
all tell us their tales
year after year.

Latterly I have taken to listening and it seems to be making some sort of difference.

300 Words
Last leaf fall quietness coldness and dark times evoke a time of earthy returningness
until rising again, at walking pace I'm told,
Spring shakes off the earth from her
overwintered clothing and wipes the sleep from her waking eyes.
It all begins again with joyous regularity.
I know that Sartre and Beckett would not agree and found no solace in the natural changes, at any rate it makes an impression on me these days and
layers upon the fabric of meaning
I make for myself wrapping up the baby in swaddling bands
somehow safe and secure in something known but unlearned
and for which I give thanks
in a way I thought I had lost
but even wounded bids can sing
attracting predators
yes I know
but with a zen like quality
being in the moment
becomes easier
with every breath
and things which used to
matter more
matter less
music
rediscovered
invited into the mix and meld
weave gloriously together
music and movement
I never learned to dance
another language
but it is never to late
the lost villages of Italy
still call
threatening my self -induced coma
I call life
the chill creeps though the window
the sunlight
illuminates
with less and less warmth now
but that is to be expected
no dawn chorus
the dawn catches up with my rising
soon to overtake it
they say
memories become the mainstay of reality
as age creeps along too
we will become friends
you and I
autumn to winter
age towards death
and we will make a fist of it
discovering more and more about how it works
in truth though I know there will be
no knowing of truth
only significant stories
to feed the traveller
thanks be for
small changes
encouraging
wonder and magic in the world.

Pray the Way You Can

sometimes it takes a while

a long time

sometimes

but

nothing is lost

to a god who counts

sparrows^*

* quoted from a lecture given by Fr. Eamonn Bredin at Mt Oliver Institute of Religious Education 1984. I have tried to find a a source for it but in vain. Anyone out there have an idea? It has proved to be an inspiration to me in so many situations.