THE DAWN PASSING

Sun light pierced the darkness
Through unmet curtains
Spilling gentle early morning sun
On her quiet restful countenance
Facing the dawn
She lay on her side
Her hand supporting her pail cheek
She was at peace
Her three score year and ten served
Age and weariness had left her
And the pain, which hardens our features, was no more
As I held her cold hand
I remembered her warmth
And my mind was at once filled
With a lifetimes memories
Good memories
Warm and rich beyond price
Memories So vivid they might have been yesterday
My lips quivered
And my eyes filled with the sting of tears
Happy for the memories
But so sad for the loss
Then Suddenly The peace was broken
With the doctors heavy footfall on the stairs
So I kissed her gentle hand
And said my last goodbye to mum.

IF NOT

If not the lord
Then what?
Raiki?
Yoga?
Or feng shui
Worshiping the elements
The sun and the moon
A return to chaos
Pagan times
Before the fisher of men
Cast his net

If not our lord
Then who?
What idol?
What fad or fashion
Plastic surgeons
The new gods
De-toxing
And colonic irrigation
Or wannabee’s
Worshiping celebrity
At the alter of fame

If not the Christ
Then what?
Loss of faith
Loss of belief
But they don’t stop believing
Because they have a need
A desperate need
To believe in something
So they believe
In everything and anything
Except the risen Christ

A WISH FOR ALICE

I stood in a strange village
Or rather a village
Where I was a stranger
Stood in front of a cottage
In need of a lick of paint
It was the home of my aunt
An aunt, not unknown
But not spoken of
Except in hushed whispers
Because of a love
The love that dare not speak its name
In a different time
A less understanding time
She had lived her twilight years
In a nursing home
Frail of body but sharp of mind
She had long out lived
All her family and others
Who had shunned her
“Something to be said for a deviant life style”
My father would have said
And now she was no more
But she had left me her cottage
Aunt Alice, my godmother
So I stand on the threshold
Key in hand which I put in the lock
On opening the door I enter
Although dusty and stale
The house bears all the marks
Of a person loved
So she found happiness then!
I move from room to room
Looking for Alice
Feeling like a burglar
But as I search
I feel less and less like a stranger
Familiar faces in the photos
My mother and other aunts
Older than they should have been
They did not shun her totally then
Finally I reach the kitchen
I unbolt the back door
And pulled it hard
It opened reluctantly
To reveal the garden
Where the photos were taken
It was clearly once well cared for
But no longer,
Shrubs and trees
Have broken the bonds of cultivation
To create a wilderness
Through knee high grass
I followed the path
Un trod for many summers
Past remnants of the old garden
Glimpses of ornamental masonry
A birdbath, a sun dial
The vague outline of a bench
At the bottom of the garden
Rotting In one corner
An ivy clad shed stood
In the other Barely visible at first
Hidden amidst the foliage
Of nettles and tangled brambles
I see on closer inspection
A wishing well
First to appear was the roof
Cloaked in a cascade of ivy
In its eaves silken web’s
Fine spun like lace
Hold prisoner drops of dew
Which glint in the morning sun
I can see, as I get closer
The crumbling masonry
And the flag stones at its base
Fractured by tree roots
To one side Lies the wooden bucket
Rotting in the grass
Its metal bands rust brown
I thrust my hand deep in my pocket
Taking out a coin
And turned it slowly in my fingers
Before tossing it into the well
And I made my wish.
Then after a moment I turned
Then paused when a thought crossed my mind
When Alice stood on this very spot
In the dappled sunlight
Of her cottage garden
What did she wish for?

I AM

I am the gentle warmth
Of a soft spring day
I am the sunlight
Glinting on the morning dew
I am the summer breeze
In a field of ripened corn
I am the aromatic air
Of a summer night
I am the autumn wind
Stripping bare the trees
I am the howling wind
In the teeth of a gale
I am the biting sting
Of icy rain and sleet
I am the silence
In the softly falling snow
I am silent
And invisible in the mists
I am the storm and tempest
I am the peace and quiet
I am the green man
I am the green goddess
I am the mother

CHOICE

She sat on an eternal shore, silent
Calm unexpressive face, still like granite
Contemplating her destiny, knowing
The path she chooses she must take alone
Upon the expected cross roads she came
It arrived suddenly, but then not so
The long awaited, long dreamed of moment
Choices when made can extend far beyond
Like ripples in the water from a stone
Inside herself she must look for the answer
A deep breath, a sigh and she plants her foot
Upon the chosen trail to who knows where
With confidence she sets off on her way
Has she made the right choice who can say?

THE ABERGELE ROADS

At dusk we walk slowly by the shore line
The waves lapping at the sand break gently
While children play among the craggy rock pools
Or happily skimming stones on the sea
Dogs chase balls as we stand to consider,
The tide is it in, or out, no matter
The setting sun lights up the western sky
Illuminating stray clouds with gold strands
Then surrounding them with bright bursting rays
This sunburst silhouettes the beachcombers
Then blinds us all as it hits the wet sand
As quickly as it burst on us it was gone
Until we are blinded by the next one
Before the horizon swallows the sun

LET HIM IN

Let god within your heart
Fill the void of darkness
Filled with love and joy
Let his love envelope
Your being
Let him bring light
Where dark once dwelt
Let him bring love
Where hate once ruled
Let him bring happiness
Where sadness held dominion