Carry no purse , no haversack, no sandals.
Salute no one on the road.
We need to light no candles.
To keep our prayers flowed.

I was walking the coast path.
The only company sea and sky.
Rain washing away the narrow footpath.
Nothing about me was dry.

There was a lot of slipping
I was waking very slowly.
Not thinking , just concentrating.
On the cliffs far below, nothing holy.

Mindfully walking.
Is as good as praying.

—-+++—-

The sea quiet below
Not a sound from crashing waves
Prayer in itself

—-+++——

See Luke 10: 1-12

You believe just because I saw you under the fig tree.
You will see greater things than that.
Standing at the top of the garden you notice the sea.
Distant , peaceful calm, blue, grey and flat .

I am at Trebah Garden, gently walking, freed from toil.
Here Mediterranean plants prosper , so much to discern.
Nurtured by rich Cornish acid, humid soil.
Hydrangeas, rhubarbs, rubber plants and weeping figs, a fern.

But I was here nearly forty years ago .
With my friend the great Tony Hibbert .
Long before it was open to all the public on the go.
It was a wild neglected jungle , care’s desert.

I think I preferred it then, we were all alone.
But let others enjoy and learn, I must not moan.

—-+++—-

A country garden
Place to quietly meditate
But best be alone

——-+++——

See John 1:47-51

Lord, do you want us to call down fire.
To burn them up.
But he rebuked their ire.
And they went to another village to sup.

The light over the sea turned black.
A storm raged in with biting rain.
I walked back grateful for my mack.
This total isolation was my gain.

I took refuge in Pentireglaze.
The orchard’s apples ripening.
The sea’s rage lost to all gaze.
The herb garden contentedly sowing.

And now a glorious sunset rose over the tillage.
I walked in my mind slowly to another village.

—-++++——

Black over the sea.
Rushing towards the shoreline
Retreat then homewards

-—++++—-

See Luke 9:51-56

Then he will turn to the prayers of the helpless.
He will not despise their prayers.
Often our dreams are hapless.
Gloom in layer upon layers.

We look back on our career highs.
And think how little we have lit .
The dark mere is shallow in relation to its size.
But our gaze can not for all that penetrate it,

And then I remembered a prayer to enlighten me.
Guide me , strengthen and console me.
I promise to submit to all that you desire of me.
And to accept to all that you allow to happen to me.

Let me only do your will .
The dark landscape cleared of its own free will.

—-+++—-

Oh Holy Spirit
Beloved of my own soul
I do adore you

—-+++—-

See Psalm 101

Love one another.
As I have loved you.
In the dream’s frustrating smother.
While waking doubts grew.

Thw walk was long watching the clock.
The September sun warming.
We walked to st Enodoc.
The wind was wipping.

We arrived in the quiet church
Passing the flowering evening primrose.
The Eucharist continued its search.
The small congregation rose.

And then we heard John’s gospel.
Perhaps those words were possible.

——++++——

Love one another
But is all this possible
Maybe with some help

——-++++—-

See John 15: 12-13

I will turn their mourning into joy.
I will console them, give gladness for grief.
Purity can be found in the merest alloy.
Loneliness can turn into relief.

Thirty seven years of marriage to our credit.
A decision with no regret.
It is not I who have any merit.
To this kindest of women I am in debt.

If love is cut short.
And death claims its due.
Is there anything left to court.
Only the memories we knew.

Does beyond lie the emptiness of annihilation.
Or we dearly hope, reunion.

—-+++—-

Marriage does end
Death will always take its due
For reunion

—+++—-

See Jeremiah 31: 10-12, 13

Who is there left among you .
That saw the temple in its former glory.
The mist grew.
Here is a story.

Glastonbury Tor swam into view.
Rising above the Somerset Levels.
Asking a question of me and you.
Is it just natural or built against devils

What are the mysterious terraces.
What was the origin of the tower.
Out of the ordinary of all holy places.
Exuding a mysterious power.

The car drove by.
History left with a sigh.

—-+++—-

A conical hill
Arises out of the mist
Still a mystery

—-+++—

See Haggai 1:15-2:9

Herod had heard about all that was being done by Jesus.
And he was puzzled, and was anxious to meet Jesus.
Perhaps all this also applies to us.
Are we also prepared to make a fuss.

Do we talk out.
Or remain silent.
Dispel doubt
Or just stay quiet.

Perhaps we are puzzled.
Not sure if he is dead.
Content to be muzzled.
Not accepting all we have read.

Herod thought John beheaded
Where was this new man headed.

—-+++—-

Are people puzzled
By what we write say and do
So do we speak out

——++++——

See Luke 9:7-9

I am ashamed.
I blush to lift my face to you.
My pride is still not tamed.
And my fear too.

Nor our greed.
And our ambition.
Will I never take heed.
And give due rendition.

Am I satisfied with just a staff.
And one haversack.
At troubles just to laugh.
And accept all lack.

But I will keep going
Until my due passing.

——++++——

Carry just a staff
And a haversack only
But will we do it

——-++++——-

See Ezra 9:5-9 , Luke 9:5-9

It is not the healthy.
Who need the doctor but the sick.
It is not the wealthy.
Who need help but those given a kick.

We are like the tax collector.
Sitting by the customs house.
We don’t have to be a rector.
Or contrarily an unpleasant louse.

We just wait our turn to be called.
Patiently not knowing when it will come.
We can wait for disbelief to be felled.
It can take a lifetime for some.

I am still sitting.
Just hoping, waiting.

——+++—-

We await the call
For some that is a lifetime
Just be patient

—-++++——

See Matthew 9:9-13

For nothing is hidden,
but it will be made clear.
With faith little is sudden.
And it is down to us, not a seer.

Nothing secret but it will be known.
And brought to light.
Everything is quietly sown.
A distant slowly rising kite.

Do not test your belief in the Deity.
For it is necessarily unknowable.
We are merely questioning laity.
We are only fallible.

But we can read scripture.
As a touch searching the hidden future.

———-+++++——

A torch lights the dark
Scripture too lights the future
It is all we have

——++++——

See Luke 8:16-18

Da quaesimus omnipotens Pater.
In hunc famulum tuum Presbyterii dignitatem.
Grant we pray almighty father.
To this your servant the dignity of priesthood’s stem.

Innova in visceribus eius spirituum.
Sanctitatis acceptum a te Deus secundi meriti munus obtineat.
Renew deep within him the spirit of holiness’ drum.
May he hold the office, received from you God .and be in your debt.

I am at an ordination.
This solemn moment cannot fail to move.
A young man embarked on a new reunion.
All the rest of lift set in a new holy groove.

Censuramque exemplo suae conversationis insinuet.
And by the example of his manner of life may he inspire right conduct yet.

——-++++—-

A solemn moment.
A man gives up everything
For God whom he trusts

——-++++++——-

See The laying on of hands and Consecratory prayer of an ordination

Some fell on the edge of the path.
Some fell on rock.
How can we avoid all wrath.
Emerge from our constant lock.

Will we be cast into the thorns.
Or onto rich soil.
Held between pride’s thorns.
Or made forever whole.

Is our faith weak.
Or entangled by care.
Continuing evermore to seek.
Nothing ever clear.

We pray to be cast not just by the sower’s gait.
But hope that we may be masters of our own fate.

—-+++—-

The path is narrow
Our fate is cast randomly
Can we control it

—-+++—-

See Luke 8: 4-15

Religion does bring large profits.
But only to those who are content with what they have.
There is more to life than the office.
We should be happy with the small things we have.

Some things make us joyful , some make us cry.
The garden dahlia was blooming.
As beautiful as the church nearby.
Small , insignificant yet rewarding.

We may doubt whether or how we or God exist.
But the dahlia certainly does.
Nature clears away doubt’s mist.
Here is no gainful buzz.

The moment brought no profits.
But was certainly better than the office.

——+++++——

Garden dahlia.
Deep light reds greens and orange
A spiritual moment

———-+++++++——

See 1 Timothy 6:2-12

You have within you a spiritual gift.
Which was given to you when the prophets spoke .
You can be saved from all drift.
The future is not hidden by some impenetrable cloak.

It can come in any moment.
Today a butterfly landed on my book.
A Red Admiral for a second freed from movement.
I scarcely had time to look.

We do not have to think hard about this.
We do not have to take great care on how we advance.
The spiritual moment need not be bliss.
But in nature pierces like a Lance .

The butterfly’s orange black tints are gone now.
But a thought remains as it rests on another bough.

——++++———-

A butterfly lands
A spiritual moment
But it is soon gone

———++++++—-

See 1 Timothy 4: 12-16

Woman this is your son.
This is your mother .
He looked to the soon darkened sun.
And the Stabat Mater.

The cost of love is suffering.
We love though it brings pain.
Lamenting and weeping.
Always  we reach the end of the lane.

Because we all die .
Without suffering if lucky
Every knot will untie.
But not alone if lucky.

So look after each other .
As we were looked after by our mother.

————-

In death do we die
We cannot know the answer
We have each other

—————-

See John 19: 25-27

Yet he who is full of compassion.
Forgave them their sin.
They showed no compunction.
They were determined to win.

He turned hatred into love.
Death into life .
The true dove.
The answer to the knife .

He came not to condemn.
But to save.
Even to them.
He only gave.

The dead wood we see.
Became the living tree.

……….

It was only wood
It became a living tree.
To save all mankind

……..

See John 3: 13-17

Can one blind man guide another.

Can one blind man guide another.
Surely both will fall into a pit.
When young did we not trust our own brother.
I was small but I followed the candle he lit.

We are blind to our own faults.
Yet we know instantly those of others.
We are covered by ego’s towering vaults.
Slow to welcome our own brothers.

My own only brother is dead now.
Sometimes I see him in dreams.
Sixty years ago he was always there somehow.
Early love passed into many streams.

It passes into a great sea’s embrace.
But is never lost, always leaving a trace.

—-+++—-

Love lost time’s streams
Into the sea it passes
But a trace survives

——+++—-

See Luke  6:39-42

Let the message in all its richness.
Find a home in you.
Far away there is a world without any mess.
But it is here and now around you.

I am sitting outside the old church Walesby.
The view stretches twenty miles away.
I am utterly on my own, no one nearby.
I could walk on briskly but I choose to stay .

Time stops except for the bells every quarter , no more
The senses, wind on my cheek, far away sheep, a wood pigeon.
The breeze ruffles the stately sycamore.
Late deep summer greens, the blues merge into a distant region.

No need here to concentrate on the breath to force meditation.
It is here all around in nature’s gift, gone all agitation.

—-+++—-

Concentrate on breath
No need here to make effort
Peace is in nature.

——+++—-

See Colossians 3: 12-17

Celebrate with joy tHe nativity of the Virgin.
From her rose the son of justice.
Born without sin.
Conqueror of injustice.

Prayed to daily by The Order of Malta.
At mass today we hear the story of the icon of Philemos
She travelled far, suffered tribulation ,does it matter.
Under this icon , there was no gathering of moss.

From Rhodes to Malta to Russia, you are our liege.
Lost and found , her fate in tension.
Prayed to during the island’s siege.
You are the only hope of all affliction.

When we are under siege and all seems lost.
You come to our aid, whatever the cost.

—-+++—-

Under siege all seems lost
Our Lady of Philemon
Will come to our aid

—-+++—-

See Entrance Antiphonal of Mass

Make sure that no one deprives you of your freedom.
Trapped by some second hand empty philosophy.
Perhaps we should just say , we praise you Te Deum.
One can be rational and not put trust in theosophy.

Everyone in the crowd were trying to touch him.
Because power came out of him doing cured them all.
Feeling, touch are all important and not just to him.
He was gently tactile and could fearlessly walk tall.

Rationality, faith, or the feeling of the moment.
I am as by Thoreau’s Walden Pond in the park at dusk.
Sunset light, slow paddling ducks , people content.
Stroked by enchanted land , earthy, smelling of musk.

In the beauty of nature we feel his soothing touch.
This feeling now, not argumentation are our crutch.

—-+++—-

The park at sunset.
Fading light on the bright lake
Only this moment

—-+++—-

See Colossians 2:6-115 and Luke 6: 12-19

Stretch out your hand.
He did so and the hand was better.
Our life and health run into the sand.
Gradually without regret we must let go of this tether.

I am sitting with my granddaughter.
She is playing quietly with her Lego.
A happiness high water.
No room here for inflated ego.

One day we will stretch out our hand.
It will be taken gently.
And then we can rest with everything grand.
Then there will only be the now and no consequently.

That moment may or may not happen soon, no matter.
But for the moment, I’m happy playing with my granddaughter.

—-+++—-

Granddaughter playing
An instant in happy time
Savour the moment

—-+++—-

See Luke 6:6-11