Happy Places - a shameless act of plagiarism

My good friend the arborist and writer Mr Chambers had an interesting post on his blog today about a happy place - follow the link above to see his and read his thoughts. However I liked the idea of where is your happy place - presumably a beautiful place and what effect does it have it on you.

For me it is the old monastic site of Nendrum ..... A monastery was first built on the site in the fifth century - by St Mochaoi in the 5th century - this rests on a story about St. Patrick written c. AD 900. It is on an island just of the west coast of Strangford Lough ...... you drive across a little causeway to get to it. It is for me one of the most peaceful places on earth and one I visit as often as i can. It does feel sacred the ground somehow still retains the memory of 1000 years of prayer on the site. On a summer evening it is place of rare beauty with great views over the lough from all sides. One new years day we travelled down and the frost was thick on the ground but in the winter sun we were all moved to stillness and contemplation by it. As some good friends recently reminded me on a sunday evening - this is a place where it is good to

Be Still and Know that I am God
Be Still and Know
Be Still
Be

Sometimes when doubt - that shadow cast by faith threatens to blot out the light I go there and BE and it sees me through the night.

blessings

When the way is not a way but a place

The Peace of Wild Things

When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.


— Wendell Berry


On Monday night a few of us went out canoeing or paddling as my more experienced friends call it. We did about 6 miles around some of the islands of Strnagford Lough. It was incredibly peaceful , almost outside of time. The sunsetting sky was sublime - pinks and purples poking through the grey clouds gradually darkening and Venus rising in the night sky joined by a few stards as we finished our paddle. We felt at peace and discussed the journey of life we were all on and how what we understand of faith is not sermons or singing but rather journeying with a group of people through the sacred moment. It was a beautiful evening and reminded me of an old Wendell berry Poem - the title of todays post is also I think from a berry poem and it perfectly summed up my mood. So try it - get out to the wild places , rest in the Grace of the world and be free.

Words That were spoken to me as a Child

So a week has passed. By the curious way we number our lives I'm a year older. I've also been in hopsital for a routine knee op on my cruciate ligament. It feels good thanks but its always interesting going into hospital because having a general anaesthetic theres always that little doubt at the back of your mind about the danger of it all. As I was being injected with the magic fluid to make me sleep , the only words I could think of were those spoken to me as a child and still my refuge and comfort. And so like a little child I went to sleep saying the Lords Prayer and woke up an hour later in recovery with it still on my lips.

Maybe we do have to become "as a little child" to see the kingdom of heaven.

blessings

Mordja Amari Boradja (those who lose dreaming are lost)

So, many things have come and gone since the last post. Life has been lived , people have loved and hurt one another and time is still contagious. I've been feeling trapped in a bit of a rut , working too much and feeling frustrated by some situations and powerless in others. In the midst of this I was reminded by Chris of the old aboriginal quote above and wondered if that was part of my feeling ...... I've been so much into a routine that I've stopped dreaming and stopped taking risks. So heres to taking a few risks in the weeks ahead and to dreaming dreams in daylight. Thanks also to Chris for this quote from Jean vanier which I leave with you. It spoke to more than you know .

To laugh is to risk appearing the fool
To weep is to risk appearing sentimental
To reach out is to risk involvement
To disclose feelings is to risk disclosing your true self
To place your dreams before the crowd is to risk their love
To live is to risk dying
To hope is to risk despair
To try is to risk failure
But the greatest hazard is to risk nothing
The one who risks nothing,does nothing and has
Nothing - and finally is nothing
They may avoid sufferings and sorrow,
But simply cannot learn, feel,change,grow or love
Only one who risks is free

Jean Vanier

Mordja Amari Boradja !

It had to be believed to be seen ....... Grace

I spent saturday in an open air cathedral and was part of a redemptive act that gives me hope. The holy ground in question was Croke Park - headquarters of the Gaelic Athletic Association an arena where one morning in 1920 in revenge for the murder of 14 british agents that morning by the IRA , crown forces shot into the crowd at the match between Dublin and Tipperary , killing 13 spectators and one of the players.

On saturday Ireland played England at rugby and there was much media hype about the fact that God Save the Queen would be sung for the first time at the temple of an organisation set up in the late 19th century to oppose british rule. Trouble was predicted but instead we had Grace.

The day turned out better than expected - I scribbled this in my notebook .......... “ What a day - atmosphere electric , england come onto the pitch to a standing ovation . Moved to tears by the anthems , the respect for God save the Queen ..... received with dignity and given a huge round of applause .....then it felt like the stadium as one singing Irelands call. The roar when the match kicked off -an atmosphere like nothing i have ever experienced ... surrounded by friends and feeling an Irishness which included britishness and a britishness which included my irishness. It is suddenly holy ground as a nation comes of age.

A sporting holy communion with the right result on the pitch and off it - stunning rugby - a day to tell the grandchildren about - in future half the island will claim to have been there. But for those that were it was glorious - a team playhing to their potential but also a nation rising to the challenge of the hour ...showing that things had moved on and we can acknowledge the wrong of the past but not be bound by it ....we can move on ....we can be healed ....

The future is bright and not just orange ......our children and grandchildren will share this island north and south and today was another step towards that shared future . I walked away from Croke Park , hoarse and emotionally exhausted but after today I look towards our future more in hope than fear.

Authentic Mission

Its sexy and a little bit exciting to protest against the Iraq war , Its quite cool to have a red Amex card - me and Bono both. Its good to drink fair trade coffee/chocolate/wine and to lobby parliament to change our unjust trade laws. But its not that hard . I know because I've done/am doing all those things and its good but lets face it - it doesnt cost us that much.

I'm wondering if the real work is done in small local projects where people give literally years of their lives. Its not glamourous and theres little glory but to me it feels like thats where its at. How we can dare to change the world if we cant start on our own doorstep. I had lunch today in the cafe of east Belfast Mission and Glenn gave me an overview of the work they are doing and the incredible vision behind the Skainos project. Click on the link above and check it out. If you have any spare cash or time consider giving to them. Its right up there with Mornington in terms of an authentic community project that is Grace in action.

I've been campaigning for fair trade and debt relief etc for years and will continue to do so but I've done little real work on my own doorstep. Over the last little while everything I've been learning seems to point to that - the only faith I have left is a simple credo - Love God and Love your neighbour. Some of my neighbours are just down the road and I gotta learn how to love them.

Blessings

Badgers,Burdens and Buechner on the North Coast

"We must be careful of our lives, for Christ's sake, because it would seem that they are the only lives we are going to have in this puzzling and perilous world.And so they are very precious and what we do with them matters enormously. There is always this temptation to believe that we have all the time in the world, whereas the truth of it is that we do not. We have only a life, and the choice of how we are going to live it must be our own choice." Frederick Buechner in the Alphabet of Grace.

Up on the North Coast for the Soliton emerging church conference. A great weekend of conversation with emerging church folk from Ireland , England and the US but 2 moments will stay with me for a long time.

Saturday night near midnight with a full car travelling towards Castlerock when out of nowhere a badger runs out into the road - Instinctively I slam on the brakes and the car starts sliding towards the middle of the road. I have no choice but to straighten up and hit the badger full on. Any swerve might have killed us all. It didn't - we survived and incredibly so did Mr Badger despite quite an impact and going right under the car causing a fair bit of damage. Life is a thin thread which could have been snapped that night but it wasn't and we continued into the mystical experience of Sunday morning.

Early ethereal winter morning with mist rising and frost glistening on the ground. We gather on Whiterocks beach and walk through an ancient coastal landscape. A dusting of frost clings to the sand dunes as bright winter sunlight raises the spirits but not the temperature. In one direction a mile of golden sand with the gentle music of the waves breaking on the shore as we dander along. A few horses gallop by, splashing in the shallows. Incredibly a few surfers are braving the freezing waters. Cary turns and muses - " Surely there must be professional help available for them somewhere ?" We walk back to the other side - looking towards the headlands and the ruins of Dunluce Castle just visible through the mist.

Our guide is Jim a local beachcomber with his years of experience etched into lines on his weatherbeaten face. Jim is passionate about the beaches and natural beauty all around us. He is the teacher I never had at school - his love and passion overflowing through every word - he shows us the things he finds washed up on the beach. We learn how the cliffs behind us were formed by millions of tiny creatures. As I hold a piece of white paper he uses a magnet to separate the black sand from the golden. And he shows us the flint which sustained the first settlers in this area 9000 years before us. And Jim is also something I hope to be one day - Authentic. He speaks simply and beautifully of his walks on the beaches and his conversations with God.

At the end he invites us all to go and pick up a rock - bigger the better - and then come back. As we hold our rocks he continues to talk. Then asks a simple question - are the rocks getting heavy ? And then the parable - he invites us to see the rocks we are carrying as our burdens whatever they may be for - people , situations even our own lives. We take a moment to look at the sea and think of those burdens and then..... in a profound moment of art and faith we lay those burdens before God - building a sculpture of rocks on the beach as a sign between us and God. Jim weeps for the beauty of what we have done - a memorial between us and God that even now has already been washed away but yet will forever remain.

I felt like a child again ,delivered , healed and whole in the embrace of a brown and earthy God who took pleasure in us casting our burdens on him, who loved the sculpture of those burdens and encouraged us all to walk barefoot,fly kites and make sandcastles.

"There is deliverance, to use that beautiful old word, and Christians are people who through such now-and-then, here-and-there visions as they've had, through Christ, have been delivered just enough to know that there's more where that came from, and whose experience of the little deliverance that has already happened inside themselves and whose faith in the deliverance still to happen is what sees them through the night."
Frederick Buechner, A Room Called Remember



On days like this I Believe and it sees me through the night.

Community in sadness and in joy

A strange week bookended by life and death. One member of our community loses a loved one while another welcomes a new life into the world. Both ends of life and the rest of us in the middle trying to make sense of it all and find in each other the strength and love and support to keep going.Joy and sadness mixed.

But community has to work in sadness as well as joy or theres no point - we laugh , love and weep together or not at all.


Continuing to read Benedict and his thoughts on community are as ever simple and profound.

"They should each try to be the first to show respect to each other , supporting with the greatest patience one another's weaknesses of body or behaviour."

Rule of St Benedict ,72 'The good zeal of monks'

I pray that we will continue to do so at this sad and also joyous time.

m

Lessons for a slow learner

Contentment in Sanctus Boscus.


Am sitting by a turf fire at midnight , Emiliana Torrini is singing on the Ipod and I have a glass of single malt Macallan uisce beatha in my hand.

I'm learning the beauty of slowing down and listening to my life. Tonight it was catching up with a good friend - listening to each others lives and realising that life itself is grace.

Thats all it was, nothing spectacular - just 2 good friends sipping tea by a fire and finding out what was happening in each others lives. And yet I am more content than I have been for a long time.

It is in the little things that we find the greater truths.

Try it .

good night

sleep well and remember that life is grace and that we are fearfully and wonderfully made .

blessings

District and Circle

Irelands greatest living poet Seamus Heaney has won the TS Elliot award for poetry for his latest collection, District and Circle, which draws on his travels to work on the London Underground in his younger days.The prize was presented by TS Eliot's widow, Valerie Eliot, at a ceremony in central London.Heaney's work was described by the judges as "exhilarating".
The TS Eliot Prize for Poetry is organised by the Poetry Book Society, which was founded by Eliot in 1953 to develop and maintain poetry reading in the UK.

I remember being introduced to Heaney at school and the poem which I started with has remained to this day my favourite. A changing of the guard from old ireland to the new ireland - a new way of digging for a living , nay maybe even to survive. Anyway I'll be raising a glass to Seamus tonight - ok so he's already got a Nobel prize but still well done.


Digging

Between my finger and my thumb
The squat pen rests; as snug as a gun.

Under my window a clean rasping sound
When the spade sinks into gravelly ground:
My father, digging. I look down

Till his straining rump among the flowerbeds
Bends low, comes up twenty years away
Stooping in rhythm through potato drills
Where he was digging.

The coarse boot nestled on the lug, the shaft
Against the inside knee was levered firmly.
He rooted out tall tops, buried the bright edge deep
To scatter new potatoes that we picked
Loving their cool hardness in our hands.

By God, the old man could handle a spade,
Just like his old man.

My grandfather could cut more turf in a day
Than any other man on Toner's bog.
Once I carried him milk in a bottle
Corked sloppily with paper. He straightened up
To drink it, then fell to right away
Nicking and slicing neatly, heaving sods
Over his shoulder, digging down and down
For the good turf. Digging.

The cold smell of potato mold, the squelch and slap
Of soggy peat, the curt cuts of an edge
Through living roots awaken in my head.
But I've no spade to follow men like them.

Between my finger and my thumb
The squat pen rests.
I'll dig with it.

Seamus Heaney







blessings

Sitting by a Turf Fire Resolving

When turf burns it fills the room with a fragrance and also with memories of the uncounted years ...memories of the earth ...of things that have been and gone maybe a thousand years ago but still there is a trace of them left in the earth. Nothing is ever quite forgotten in this land of saints and scholars and those who are somewhere in between.

Its the time of year when many of us make resolutions - I've never really liked them but this year as we sat round the dinner table here in Sanctus Boscus on new years eve we talked about how we would like to live in the year that will be known as 07.

For myself I would like it to be a year of living generously. A year of investing in friendships and people and of realising what is actually important. I've been reading a book called Finding Sanctuary - Monastic Steps for everyday life by Abbot Christopher Jamison. Its basically a simple up to date explanation of the rule of Benedict and how it applies today. One of his main points about the business of modern life is, that business is our choice. We choose to be running from one thing to the other and complain about not having enough time. Well I'm going to choose this year to be less busy and to have mroe time for the things i love and that are important. Reading books , walking on the beach , listening to life - my own and those I am lucky enough to call friends and trying to work out what it means to believe in God in the 21st century.

So heres to a year of hospitality , silence , contemplation , meditation , friendship and occasional faith .

As a good friend texted to me on new years eve - May it be a year of living out your dreams, be they big or small , of daring to love and being loved for who you are. You are precious.

May we all be generous with each other , embrace the mystery and enjoy the ride .

blessings .

A Very Celtic New Year to y'all

As we sail into another year I have been reading a little of the 3 surviving works of St Patrick. Of the 3 perhaps the most famous is the Lorica of St Patrick - a lorica being a type of prayer of protection (literally meaning "breastplate"), which was popular in Celtic countries. This particular prayer is said to have turned St. Patrick and his followers into deer when they were being pursued by the king’s men early one morning--hence the title "The Deer’s Cry."

Although I enter 2007 more in hope than fear it does no harm to recite the breastplate of St Patrick - may his blessing and protection surround you this year.

I arise today
Through a mighty strength,
the invocation of the Trinity
Through belief in the threeness
Through confession of the Oneness
Towards the creator.

I arise today
Through the strength of Christ with his baptism,
Through the strength of his crucifixion with his burial,
Through the strength of his resurrection with his ascension
Through the strength of his descent for the Judgement of doom.

I arise today
Through the strength of the love of Cherubim
In obedience to the Angels,
In the service of the Archangels,
In hope of resurrection to meet with reward,
In prayers of patriarchs,
In predictions of prophets,
In preaching of Apostles,
In faiths of confessors,
In innocence of Holy Virgins,
In deeds of righteous men.

I arise today
Through the strength of heaven:
Light of sun
Brilliance of moon
Splendor of fire
Speed of lightning
Swiftness of wind
Depth of sea
Stability of earth
Firmness of rock.

I arise today
Through God’s strength to pilot me:
God’s might to uphold me,
God’s wisdom to guide me
God’s eye to look before me,
God’s ear to hear me,
God’s word to speak for me,
God’s hand to guard me,
God’s way to lie before me,
God’s host to secure me
against snares of devils
against temptations of vices
against inclinations of nature
against everyone who shall wish me ill,
afar and anear,
alone and in a crowd.

I summon today all these powers between me and these evils
Against every cruel and merciless power that may oppose my body and my soul,
Against incantations of false prophets,
Against black laws of heathenry,
Against false laws of heretics,
Against craft of idolatry,
Against spells of women and smiths and wizards,
Against every knowledge that endangers man’s body and soul.

Christ to protect me today
against poison,
against burning,
against drowning,
against wounding,
so that there may come abundance of reward.
Christ with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me,
Christ in me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ on my right, Christ on my leftChrist where I lie,
Christ where I sit, Christ where I arise
Christ in the heart of every man who thinks of me,
Christ in the mouth of every man who speaks of me,
Christ in every eye that sees me,Christ in every ear that hears me.

I arise today
Through a mighty strength,
the invocation of the Trinity,
Through belief in the Threeness,
Through confession of the Oneness
Towards the Creator.
Salvation is of the Lord
Salvation is of the Lord
Salvation is of Christ
May thy salvation, O Lord, be ever with us.

Moot Homily with apologies to Buechner

Had the pleasure of visiting Moot in London last night and partaking in their service. Below is the homily.



Presence Moot Service Sun 10th December with much culled from the many and varied writings of Frederick buechner.

So hallowed and Gracious is the time - these lines from the first scene of Hamlet in a sense say it all. Marcellus is walking on the cold battlements of Elsinore speaking to his companions of the time of Jesus Birth - its a hallowed time he says - a holy time - a time in which life grows still like the surface of a river so that we can look down into it and see glimmering in its depths something precious , timeless , other. And also a gracious time - a time we cannot bring about it is a time that comes upon us as grace - as a free and unbidden gift from God as we celebrate his presence amongst us. At Christmas time it is hard for even the unbeliever not to believe in something. Peace on earth , goodwill to men ; a dream of innocence that is good to hold onto even if it is only a dream ; the mystery of being a child ; thepossibility of hope . Do you believe .........

Let us clebrate the presence of GOD this christmas time and also our community - our communion - our presence with and in each others lives ..... gathered as we are here in the least of the churches of westminster .


It is good to be present with you tonight. I’ve missed being here physically for these services but I feel that in a way I havent really left at all. It reminds me in a way of a story that Henry Nouwen told of how a former student came to visit him after a year apart . They sat on the floor facing each other catching up on what had been going in each others lives. After an hour or so they feel silent but neither felt uncomfortable and they sat just enjoying each others presence and a deep peace filled the empty space between them. Finally his friend said “When I look at you it is as if i am in the presence of Christ .” Nouwen replied “ It is the Christ in you who recognizes the Christ in me.” HIs friend then replied with what Nouwne said were the most healing words he had heard in many years ....From now on wherever you go or wherever I go , all the ground between us will be holy ground.” And when he left I knew that he had revealed to me what community really means.

And I agree - its how I feel about Moot - there is holy ground between us and always will be ...sometimes it feels closer like when Gareth and Philippa came for the weekend or when I can make it over here ...but I know that wherever I go now there are parts of me that have been shaped by Moot and the people here .... And the Holy ground between us - thats what community is all about ....whether its family or friends .. you can kiss them goodbye and out miles between you but at the same time you carry them with you in your heart , in your mind , in your soul because we dont just live in a world ...but a world lives in us.
And as with any homily from me at some point Mr Frederick Buechner will be involved and as usual he says it better than me.

"When you remember me, it means that you have carried something of who I am with you, that I have left some mark of who I am on who you are. It means that you can summon me back to your mind even though countless years and miles may stand between us. It means that if we meet again, you will know me. It means that even after I die, you can still see my face and hear my voice and speak to me in your heart.
For as long as you remember me, I am never entirely lost. When I'm feeling most ghost-like, it is your remembering me that helps remind me that I actually exist. When I'm feeling sad, it's my consolation. When I'm feeling happy, it's part of why I feel that way.
If you forget me, one of the ways I remember who I am will be gone. If you forget, part of who I am will be gone. "Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom." the good thief said from his cross (Luke 23:42). There are perhaps no more human words in all of Scripture, no prayer we can pray so well. " Jesus Remember me


Remember me - thats why we are here ...thats why we are present .....in the presence of each other and of God. Look around you from the oldest to the youngest ...we are here to remember Jesus - what we are a part of tonight is the communion of saints........ someone will walk to the altar and break the bread and bless the wine ...the rest of us will sit here quietly waiting to get in on the act.....we all have a part to play and its not just us - If the prayerbook is to be believed - Angels and archangels and all the company of heaven, cherubim and seraphim surround us - if we could really see it , it would look like the fireworks exploding over the London Eye on new years eve, it would sound as beautiful as the aria from Mozarts marriage of figaro and yet be as wild as the Atlantic ocean in the midst of a winter storm - and we are part of all the company of heaven- thats everybody we have ever loved or lost ...including the ones we didnt know we loved until we lost them. Its people we know and people we have never heard off . It means everybody who ever did or at some unimaginable time in the future ever will - come together at something like this table in search of something like what is offered at it.

Whatever other reasons we have for coming here tonight to this table , if we come also to give each other our love and to give God our Love , then together with Gabriel and Micheal and Brendan the navigator and Godric and the civil servant and the social worker and teresa in her ecstacy - yes even St Patrick himself ......... with all of them and us in this room we are the communion of saints ..... look at each other - enjoy each others presence and lets try to live the cornerstone of our faith ..... Love God and Love your neighbour - on these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets ......

Go in peace to love and serve the Lord

ADVENT TOO

Was writing a homily for a MOOT service and reading some Frederick Buechner. This is a papraphrase from a longer and beautifully written passage in his book ' The Faces of Jesus.' It seemed somehow appropriate to the time of year.

So hallowed and Gracious is the time - these lines from the first scene of Hamlet in a sense say it all. Marcellus is walking on the cold battlements of Elsinore speaking to his companions of the time of Jesus Birth - its a hallowed time he says - a holy time - a time in which life grows still like the surface of a river so that we can look down into it and see glimmering in its depths something precious , timeless , other. And also a gracious time - a time we cannot bring about. It is a time that comes upon us as grace - as a free and unbidden gift from God as we celebrate his presence amongst us. At Christmas time it is hard for even the unbeliever not to believe in something. Peace on earth , goodwill to men ; a dream of innocence that is good to hold onto even if it is only a dream ; the mystery of being a child ; thepossibility of hope .


Do you believe .........?

ADVENT

ITs that time of year again and from the National Gallery an advent calender for art lovers.

http://www.nationalgallery.org.uk/collection/features/advent/default.htm

blessings

Atonement

This guy has been blowing my mind with a theology which seems to articulate a lot of what i've been feeling for a long time without properly being able to express it .

check out this on the atonement

http://www.jamesalison.co.uk/texts/eng11.html

and may it rock your world[view]

blessings

The Holy Ground Between Us

I no doubt deserved my enemies, but I don't believe I deserved my friends.
Walt Whitman
US poet (1819 - 1892)

Have been musing about friendship since my recent north american sojourn and return home to live in Belfast. CS Lewis said that people need not so much to be taught as to be reminded. The last little while I’ve been reminded just how many amazing people I can call friend. Within a few weeks I reconnected with a lot of incredible people both in Canada and in Nashville. And honestly wondered what I’ve done to deserve to be part of their lives.

And yet the strangest thing is that those who I admire the most and have learnt from - people who have shaped my life and thinking - are perhaps the ones who need your friendship most . It is a scary and humbling thing and one I’m very thankful for. To the good people of Nashville you have my love and respect. There is holy ground between us and always will be. Thank you for continuing to live generously.

Back in Belfast realising how much our community needs each other is reassuring and makes me feel I am in the right place now. The right place to give and to recieve, to push the boundaries and break out of the old ways of thinking ....to listen to our lives and realise what incredible things they are.

I leave you with this from Papa John O’Donohue. May it lift your morning and rain upon your day.

Matins

I
Somewhere,out at the edges,the night
is turning and the waves of darkness
Begin to brighten the shore of dawn

The heavy dark falls back to earth
And the freed air goes wild with light,
The heart fills with fresh, bright breath
And thoughts stir to give birth to colour.

II
I arise to day

In the name of silence
Womb of the word,
In the name of stillness
Home of belonging,
In the name of the solitude
of the soul and the earth
I arise today

Blessed by all things
Wings of breath
delight of eyes,
wonder of whisper,
intimacy of touch,
eternity of soul,
urgency of thought,
miracle of health,
embrace of God

May I live this day

Compassionate of heart,
Gentle in word,
Gracious in awareness,
Courageous in thought,
Generous in Love .



Amen says me .......... blessings

Yay Yeats

I've always been a fan of the WB -Irelands greatest poet [in the english language] . My good friend Mister Tumnus ( http://mistertumnus.blogspot.com/ )reminded me of this poem recently on her blog and It resonates deeply within the foul rag and bone shop of my own heart . Enjoy




The Circus Animals' Desertion

I
I sought a theme and sought for it in vain,
I sought it daily for six weeks or so.
Maybe at last, being but a broken man,
I must be satisfied with my heart, although
Winter and summer till old age began
My circus animals were all on show,
Those stilted boys, that burnished chariot,
Lion and woman and the Lord knows what.

II
What can I but enumerate old themes,
First that sea-rider Oisin led by the nose
Through three enchanted islands, allegorical dreams,
Vain gaiety, vain battle, vain repose,
Themes of the embittered heart, or so it seems,
That might adorn old songs or courtly shows;
But what cared I that set him on to ride,
I, starved for the bosom of his faery bride.

And then a counter-truth filled out its play,
'The Countess Cathleen' was the name I gave it;
She, pity-crazed, had given her soul away,
But masterful Heaven had intervened to save it.
I thought my dear must her own soul destroy
So did fanaticism and hate enslave it,
And this brought forth a dream and soon enough
This dream itself had all my thought and love.

And when the Fool and Blind Man stole the bread
Cuchulain fought the ungovernable sea;
Heart-mysteries there, and yet when all is said
It was the dream itself enchanted me:
Character isolated by a deed
To engross the present and dominate memory.
Players and painted stage took all my love,
And not those things that they were emblems of.

III
Those masterful images because complete
Grew in pure mind, but out of what began?
A mound of refuse or the sweepings of a street,
Old kettles, old bottles, and a broken can,
Old iron, old bones, old rags, that raving slut
Who keeps the till. Now that my ladder's gone,
I must lie down where all the ladders start
In the foul rag and bone shop of the heart.

The Power and The Glory [of Broadband]

I apologise for my absence. It was mainly due to a lack of internet access at home. That has now been remedied by the good people of NTL who have installed broadband in my humble home. Since my time in North America I have been musing much on the nature of friendship and one quote keeps popping up again and again.

I no doubt deserved my enemies, but I don't believe I deserved my friends.
Walt Whitman
US poet (1819 - 1892)

The last month has made me sure of that . I have to go to work now but the next post will develop that thought more .

Blessings.

The Eagles Are Coming

So screamed Bilbo at the end of the Hobbit during the battle of the Five Armies.

I'd never seen an eagle in my life before and then last week on Vancouver Island I saw 2 . Different days, different beaches, different sides fo the island but equally stunning. The second time the eagle circled round a few times before settling on a tree just behind us. The Elvish Princess and I stopped our picnic and looked in awe - it was so close we could hear the beating of his wings. If i was a poet I would write a verse but even now I just find myself filled with silent awe at the beauty. Luckily Gerard Manley Hopkins had a smiliar experience a century and a continent apart from mine but his words on seeing a falcon flying one morning are still beautiful and i offer them to you.

blessings


The Windhover
I caught this morning morning's minion, king-
dom of daylight's dauphin, dapple-dawn-drawn Falcon, in his riding
Of the rolling level underneath him steady air, and striding
High there, how he rung upon the rein of a wimpling wing
In his ecstasy! then off, off forth on swing,
As a skate's heel sweeps smooth on a bow-bend: the hurl and gliding
Rebuffed the big wind. My heart in hiding
Stirred for a bird, - the achieve of, the mastery of the thing!

Brute beauty and valour and act, oh, air, pride, plume, here
Buckle! AND the fire that breaks from thee then, a billion
Times told lovelier, more dangerous, O my chevalier!

No wonder of it: sheer plod makes plough down sillion
Shine, and blue-bleak embers, ah my dear,
Fall, gall themselves, and gash gold-vermilion.

-- Gerard Manley Hopkins