The greater the number of years the higher the price demanded.
The less the number of years, the greater the reduction.
We wonder what we are commanded.
How can we avoid our destruction.

St Ignacio holds my imagination.
He was a man of the world fulfilling every fancy.
He realised that reading scripture was not just his libation.
It made him happy.

I am not convinced scripture is all true.
But it seems to have extraordinary wisdom.
To everything it seems to give a clue.
In front of it my doubts are dumb.

Unlike Ignacio we may not be able to give everything up.
But of his wisdom we can surely sup.

Haiku

As we read scripture
We feel it provides a clue
Whether or not true

[Note: First two lines from Leviticus 25:1,8-17]

St Peter Chrysologus

Raise a song and sound the timbrel.
The sweet smelling harp and lute.
Hear the humming minstrel.
Listen to the high pitched flute.

St Peter known as of the golden speech.
But nearly all his writings lost.
We have no idea how he did preach.
And at what cost.

So will vanish all our writing.
What hubris we have.
We should just take pleasure in this moment fleeting.
It is all we really have.

And then I saw the fleeting sunlight on the windowsill.
What momentary joy it brought until.

Haiku

A fleeting moment
Sunlight on the windowsill
It is all we have

[Note: First two lines from Psalm 80]

If you had been here.
My brother would not have died.
We do not know when we will be carried to our bier.
Or if others will have cried.

I am reading about the voyage of the Belgica.
And her terrible voyage to the Antarctic.
Over the side goes young Wiencke.
A line is thrown, it is all too quick.

Brave Captain Lecointe leaps to the rescue, despite any cost.
A savage freezing sea is raging.
A hand grips the lad but he is lost.
A last sight, the lad is not breathing.

Such is our fate, a line is thrown.
Life or death on the toss of a coin.

Haiku

line is thrown to us
Then can we take it or not
It is life or death

[Note: First two lines from John 11:19-21]

Patris Corde.
With a father’s heart.
Praise, laude.
A loving dart.

St Joseph, come to my aid.
In these times of difficulty.
Into your hands my troubles are laid.
Guard me vigilantly.

You alone know what I ask.
This is my challenge.
Will you undertake this task.
Without you, I cannot manage.

I called you, is this prayer to be in vain.
But then today I knew suddenly that in you, my request could be lain.

Haiku

My trust is in you
Let it not be said of you
My prayer was vain

[Note See Pope Francis’s footnote on Page 7 of his Apostolic Letter]

The Lord, a God of tenderness and compassion.
Slow to anger, rich in kindness and faithfulness.
We who are mere followers of fashion.
Are sometimes prone to blindness.

But there are some, very few who stand up for right.
Thomas Becket, Thomas More and Titus Brandsma , a man of our time.
Truth was the won thing of which they never lost sight.
Apart from stubbornness they were guilty of no crime.

One killed in anger, one executed, one murdered.
All victims of a ruthless tyrant.
They never surrendered.
They did not recant.

We mere conformists.
Will not appear on any lists.

…….

Haiku

We mere conformists
Will not appear on a list
Of men who did right

[Note: First two lines from Exodus 33:7-11, 34:5-9, 28]

This people have committed a grave sin.
Making themselves a god of gold.
The calf was probably only made of rusting tin.
And for this their lives were sold.

I was watching once again the film The Lion in Winter.
Over two hours of gloriously acted disputes about Aquitaine.
Compared to this high politics our Nowhere Special is a mere splinter.
Like most of us, driving down life’s slow lane.

But what were these great lives really achieving.
Ageing Henry just looks at the vile treachery of his sons.
Violent Richard, inadequate John, wily Geoffrey scheming.
These are not glorious arising suns.

Let’s just be happy sitting at home having a quiet laugh.
And not going after the allure of the Golden Calf.

Haiku

Seek the Golden Calf ?
Is it really worth the price
I’m not at all sure

[Note: First two lines taken from Exodus 32:15-34]

We may use the good things that pass.
In such a way as to hold fast even now.
We will all be like dried and withered grass.
However high now we will be laid low.

I was watching the tender film Nowhere Special.
About the love of a dying single father for his son.
They looked together at a dead beetle, it’s shell no longer a vessel.
It’s essence had fled, all its life quite done.

The father had to explain he was leaving.
He would not be seen but would always hear.
Soon too we will be passing.
But we will always listening, here.

The other would be adopters talk about themselves.
The chosen one asks about the boy himself.

Haiku

Talk about others
Not always about yourself
Is that not better

[Note: First two lines from the Collect of today]

First collect the darnel and tie it in bundles to be burnt.
Then gather the wheat into my barn.
We forget all that we have learnt.
Our memories a long lost yarn.

Last night I felt like I did as a boy.
I seemed to separate myself from my body.
I was rushing down a slide, unable anything to embody.
In a bottomless hole there was neither fear nor joy.

Is this a foretaste of with death our union.
Do we see our body slowly dissolve.
Is the link between mind and body an illusion.
It’s a riddle that since boyhood I have been unable to solve.

This feeling only comes in a half awakened state.
Only then can we start to wipe clean the day’s slate.

Haiku

When just half awake
You separate your body
Is this his a first death

[Note: First two lines are from Matthew 13:24-30]

As a branch cannot bear fruit all by itself.
Neither can you unless you remain in me.
We are deluded if we place all our trust in the self.
Ultimately, with death, we all have to pay our fee.

I am picking my broad beans today.
They are nurtured by their branches.
Did I water too much, too little who can say.
But they lie in my vegetable patch in neat tranches.

They taste delicious and fresh.
But they have no life on their own.
They were only saved from the rabbits by that mesh.
Nor are they worried that nothing do they own.

If only we realised we can do nothing on our own.
We would be much happier realising everything we have is but a loan.

Haiku

We can do nothing
All that we have is a loan
Let’s just be content

[Note: First two lines are from John 15:1-8]

On my bed at night I sought him.
Whom my heart loves.
I would search for her to the world’s outermost rim.
Even to the sea’s deepest darkest coves.

Once I took her to Capri.
To the dark blue Lagoon.
Here we swam in the warm sea.
And sought relief from the sun’s swoon.

Mary bathed his feet with tears.
He did not reject her love.
In our own life love is is not always free from cares.
But it’s true peace is as gentle as the dove.

In the Grotta Azzurra all is reflected light.
Sometimes truth too comes from something out of sight.

Haiku

Truth is not in sight
It comes in reflection
But it is still true

[Note: First two lines from The Song of Songs 3:1-4]

Why did we not die in the land of Egypt.
When we sat down to pans of meat.
In our own lives we know the script.
We never miss a moment to bleat.

Moses got the people out of Egypt’s prison.
He could not get Egypt out of the people’s mind.
We crave the inadequacy we had before this season.
The past is rich, poor the present, we are blind.

We wander aimlessly.
Around our own Mont Sinai.
Complaining crossly.
Open to every pleasing lie.

One day the tablets will come down.
Perhaps we should get them down.

Haiku

Will the tablets come
Perhaps we should go get them
Rather than just wait

[Note: First two lines from Exodus 16:1-5, 9-15]

Who is my mother.
Who are my brothers.
Do we feel we are in a family smother.
Are we in thrall to others.

It is enough to try to do his will.
We do not have to succeed.
We seek to look over a high sill.
Anxious to find out where it will all lead.

People wonder what will become of me.
I am not sure even that me is truly I.
I can not know who the I is although I can hear and see.
I am in the middle, this storm has an eye.

So are our family our true brothers.
Or are they the true believers.

Haiku

Who are my brothers
Is it my own family
Or those who agree

(Note: First two lines from Matthew 12:46-50)

I will sing to the Lord.
Glorious his triumph.*
They escaped Pharaoh’s sword.
They showed their defiance.

When I read this psalm
I think of the Easter vigil.
The lights dimmed in calm.
And of the fates turned fickle.

We stand in expectant awe.
Of what will happen in this story.
Will the Israelites escape to achieve so much more.
And so much transcendent glory.

We too will pass through the desert.
And find our own glory after so much hurt.

Haiku

We pass through desert
But after all this we win
An immortal crown

*Note: First two lines from Exodus 15:1-6

You must come away to some lonely place.
All by yourselves and rest for a while.
So often we feel we cannot keep up with the pace.
Our faces rigid with a strained smile.

Today I swam alone in a lonely place.
Far from any buzzing road or footpath.
I swam slowly and floated quietly in no race.
My only companion a dragonfly, free from all wrath.

Later I sat in the shade of a weeping willow.
And watched the shadows play on the greened water.
The wet grass and damp towel my only pillow.
Here was cool serenity, along the distant road it was hotter.

Deep in the dark cool water’s embrace.
You needn’t worry about losing face.

Haiku

learn to pray alone
Far from all distractions
As he did himself

Show the light of your truth to those who go astray.
So that they may return to the right path.
We pray that our fears we can keep at bay.
That we will not be ensnared by guilt or wrath.

Today I woke feeling dizzy, the world turning.
It was as if I had just landed from a rocky boat.
We assume our ordered world will just keep happening.
But the only constant is change, we are not surrounded by a moat.

The right path is not a straight motorway.
It twists and turns and is shrouded in mist.
We wonder all the time if we can or we may.
We ask, should we accept or should we resist.

Forget the dizziness, just stand and walk.
It is only up to us, forget the others’ talk.

Haiku

Just stand up and walk
Forget the mind’s dizziness
It is up to us

If you understood I want mercy not sacrifice.
You would not have condemned the blameless.
We scurry about like scared mice.
Where we should be calm, we are restless.

I wish I could just accept people as they are.
That I didn’t curse distractions and chatting.
I don’t need to flee to the privacy of my car.
I should live with mobile phones ringing.

Yesterday I was near young people in a crowded restaurant.
Looking at Mary I thought she was the most beautiful person there.
This may be only subjective not objective but it is a constant.
If you live life with the eyes of love you can live without a care.

It is not what we eat or do which is important.
But who we are that matters, the rest is cant.

Haiku

It is who we are
That is important to us
Not what others want

I am who I am.
I am has sent me to you.
Our faith may not amount to a gram.
We may be many or few.

I often think of this equivocal statement.
Is God just what is.
Is our lack of understanding something to lament.
Neither mine nor yours or hers or his.

Faith is not something we can rationalise.
It just is what it is to us, high or low.
Do we merely fantasise.
We will never know.

I wonder if this yoke really is easy and the burden light.
But I must try to keep this truth in sight.

Haiku

Is the yoke easy
Is his burden really light
It is up to us

In justice I shall behold thy face.
I shall be filled with the vision of your glory.
How, despite every search can we find grace.
Where will it end, our story.

I was waiting for what I deemed was a vital phone call.
So I sat right at the back of the Cathedral for mass.
Of course I couldn’t hear anything apart from the traffic’s mall.
Why do we think the world comes first, it’s so crass.

I pray I can be like a small child.
Maybe fidgeting but present.
Those worries deeply away filed.
Past and future neither borrowed or lent.

Too late I walked to the front.
Other distractions now blunt.

Haiku

Be like the children
Not worrying about past
Or even future

Seek the lord all you who are poor.
And your hearts will revive.
It’s strange how we always want more and more.
Yet we feel we have less and less however hard we strive.

Insight comes unexpected in strange ways despite our sighing.
I was sitting quietly in the empty Cathedral and someone sat on the same front row.
Lots of plastic bag rustling and fidgeting.
I moved to the Blessed Sacrament chapel in a quiet back row.

The chapel had been closed for a year.
Here was true joy in front of the sacrament.
Banished now all care.
And silent contentment.

Perhaps we shouldn’t worry about distractions, whatever they say.
They all have their part to play.

Haiku

All distractions
Have their part in life to play
We can ignore them

Sonnet

Anyone who finds his life will lose it.
Anyone who prefers son or daughter is not worthy of me.
Their daughter caused the little flower to be lit.
They knew that ones own life is not necessarily the key.

Imagine having nine children and giving them all to God’s city.
Here were two people living a life in deepest obscurity.
Indeed their daughter Therese exemplified humility.
The deepest shaded life can give luminosity.

And think of another saint today who died in agony.
He could have just remained a quiet Franciscan but died a martyr.
All these saints in their own way give testimony.
Would we ever our ambition with faith barter.

Meanwhile I plod my weary safe conformist way.
Is theirs the true way, who can say.

Haiku

We who just conform
Must yes to others defer
Who always commit

Sonnet

I was no prophet.
I was a shepherd.
Need everything be for profit.
Can we detach ourselves from the herd.

Do we just throw our rock into a pool of oil.
Do our words get lost in an echo chamber.
Will we be left with nothing when we return to the soil.
Will we not then even ourselves remember.

We should learn from the sea’s magnificence.
It does nor have any highs or lows.
For all woes it has complete indifference.
It is freed from life’s coils.

We should be content with our lot.
Even if it is not a lot.

Haiku

Content with our lot
That is all we can hope for
But it is enough

Sonnet

For everything that is now covered will be uncovered.
And everything now hidden will be made clear.
I pray that all these things really will be discovered.
For me these certainties are all too rare.

And then just looking out of a church window.
Everything seems clear true and factual.
I have my highs in belief then I descend into a low.
Faith is like the tide, but isn’t that natural.

I think we worry too much about what we are told.
Yesterday I just floated calmly in the North Sea.
My concern only with wind and tide and cold.
We should concentrate on just what we can see.

In the end everything will be clearly revealed.
Whatever we may think, already our fate is sealed.

Haiku

All will be revealed
We have to be patient
We are not ready

Sonnet

Fret not thyself.
And verily shalt thou be fed.
A minute after I read this I was fretting myself.
Our worries by others can never be read.

Outside a high plane passed quietly.
At thirty six thousand feet oblivious to us below.
A black bird sang softly, serenely.
All concerns were now laid low.

If only we could focus on this moment.
In this quiet country church.
If we want we can banish all torment.
We don’t need even to search.

I went back out into the open.
And the worries were duly set in motion.

Haiku

Why do we fret so
We stay not in this moment
What matters is here

Sonnet

Provide yourselves with no gold or silver.
Not even with a few coppers for your purses.
A thought bobbed to the surface as on a river.
As I read these words they remain as half remembered verses.

They all seem so utterly true.
What if I had carried them out in a different life.
What if I had followed not the many but the few.
What if I had embraced poverty’s strife.

I have been blest.
I have had home, wife, and family.
I salute those who deny themselves all rest.
They deserve to live happily.

It rests though a niggle in the mind, this call.
Could I ever have given up all.

Haiku

This persistent call
To give up all for his sake
Some will answer it

Sonnet

When you finish your meal.
Give thanks in this manner.
This ancient text seems real.
It is the Didache, faith’s ancient banner.

I found it in the Office of Readings today.
The Teaching of the Twelve Apostles.
Written as early as 80 AD they say.
A very first liturgy, these are no mere fossils.

They speak with a new freshness.
Of a Mass said with true simplicity.
Here is a certain crispness.
The way of life and of death in felicity.

Then some apostles were still alive.
It is good these simple words survive.

Haiku

If it is early
It is often genuine
Before all disputes