My granddaughter was pushing a plastic train around.
A memory surfaced my old electric train set, green suburban Southern Region to enthral.
A light on the front, what excitement, in the dark emerging from the tunnel home bound.
I read this today, God is light, there is no darkness in Him at all.
I remember playing half-penny shovel on the dining room table.
Conkers in Autumn, a champion on a string running, boyhood energy.
Mummy always home to open the door after school, tea at the kitchen table, a school label.
The priest visiting, walking to Mass at the ugly modern church, old Latin liturgy.
I bless you Father for hiding these things from the learned, revealing them to children.
Why can we not exist like we were in the present, a land of never never.
Why do we not see the past as a few memories not disappointments, why are we so driven.
Can we not the pain of past and future sever.
Come to me all ye who are weary and burdened.
Let past and future by your easy yoke be interred.