Sonnet

They shall soon be cut down like the grass.
And wither as the green herb.
So fret not, look at life at a distance as in a field glass.
Trust in the Lord but keep close to the curb.

I dreamt that I was adrift.
I could not even put up the sail to my cost.
The tide was dangerous and swift.
I felt soon I would be lost.

Then in this dream I was tongue tied in a speech
Not able to read another’s written note.
My career on the beach.
I remembered that lost boat.

Then I decided to be myself, do it my way.
Words came easily, I awoke to a new day.

Haiku

Soon cut down like grass
And wither as the green herb
Trust in the Lord now

Sonnet

He had a vision that made all his writings seem like straw.
And he wrote no more.
Here was a man who laid down the new law.
But in the end he stood silently, merely in awe.

How to resolve Christianity and Aristotelianism.
If a truth seems to contradict your faith, just investigate.
Any truth in it will not contradict true faith, our own ism.
Better than never starting and seeking is being late.

We have the right to enter the sanctuary by a new way.
A living opening through the curtain.
All questions seem up resolvable, no road could I lay.
And then in a dream I saw a great sun yellowed lake, I was no longer uncertain.

The lake was undiluted love in the World.
A true answer to the Underworld.

Haiku

The lake undiluted
Sun blessed love in the whole world
No to underworld

Sonnet

Some fell on rocky ground where it found little soil.
Some fell into thorns and the thorns grew up and chocked it.
What do we achieve for all our oil.
Our lamp goes out no sooner than it is lit.

In the parable we are the seed.
But sometimes we are the sower.
My gardening efforts always go to seed.
I seldom succeed as a grower.

The potatoes are small.
The carrots wrinkled.
The runner beans certainly not tall.
The growth gone despite my sprinkle.

But one day I hope in another life.
The seed I sow will come to new life.

Haiku

One day another life
The seed I sow will ripen
And lead to new life

Sonnet

You are never to be ashamed of witnessing.
But with me bear the hardships.
But what comes first, listening.
Before anything comes to the lips.

The original painting is in Antwerp.
But in a small Lincolnshire chapel is a wonderful copy.
One Ruben’s handwork.
The second beautiful but perhaps a little more sloppy.

A hidden away Mass House from 1793.
One a great cathedral, self-confident.
Both dedicated to Our Lady, one great, one tiny.
Neither in witness diffident.

Both dedicated to pathos.
And loss.

Haiku

Descent from the Cross
Both pathos and loss described
Two pictures portray

Monday, Third Week in Ordinary Time

Sonnet

I was on that journey.
And about midday a bright light from Heaven shone about me.
Does St Paul’s conversion concern me.
Absolutely, how else am I to be free.

Free from doubt.
Disbelief.
Flailing about.
Grief.

I wait for a vision.
It never comes.
I cannot even make the decision.
Certainty mere distant drums.

But I stay on the Damascene road.
Hoping to throw off doubt’s load.

Haiku

Damascene journey
No light appears in the sky
I carry on path

Sonnet

Lord let me know your ways.
Lord teach me your paths.
For all my days.
Remembering Lourdes’ holy baths.

The Japanese Garden.
Winter twilight in Holland Park.
It’s five, time for the closing warden.
It’s nearly dark.

Gone are the crowds.
Slow swimming koi, timeless rocks.
Rushing water, slowing clouds.
Shreds of snow, a London fox.

As He was walking he saw Andrew and Simon casting their net.
For they were fishermen.
In this calm place no need to fret.
The shadows lengthen, a trace of quiet zen.

But do I seek His spiritual net too.
Am I ready to be caught too.

Haiku

Slow swimming koi
Rushing clear stream timeless rocks
Now no need to fret.

Sonnet

Such a crowd collected that they could not even have a meal.
They were not selected.
They sought what they knew to be real.
None were rejected.

To seek him in mass exposed.
That is all we wanted.
If the church is closed.
Is not our faith daunted.

But where spirit can rise.
So there ‘hope’ can sing.
A woman with bandaged eyes.
Listening to the music that one unbroken string can bring.

This is not an image of melancholy.
Our very vulnerability is not hopeless folly.

Haiku

Not melancholy
But vulnerability
Not hopeless folly

Sonnet

If that first covenant had been without a fault.
There would have been no need for a second one to replace it.
The old is replaced with the new salt.
A new lamp is lit.

In Philipp Runge’s painting.
It is a translucent morning.
Here is harmony of lighting.
This is landscape newly creating.

Here is an innocent view.
Of young human life seen.
Skies of cerulean blue.
Fields of verdant green.

Can we too begin a new covenant.
To recreate benign government.

Haiku

Can we too begin
A new covenant to make
Benign government

Sonnet

Looking at Ruisdael’s The Jewish Cemetery.
Here are symbols of mortality.
With sadness here we bring our loved ones to bury.
In the picture a dead white tree has centrality.

Then the rushing stream.
The black storm tossed clouds, the crumbling ruins.
The neglected graves as in a dream.
All is vanitas, take note, beware humans.

All who were afflicted in any way.
Were crowding forward to touch him.
We too can keep fear at bay.
If we too seek to touch him.

The signs are all about us.
It is not too late to catch his bus.

Haiku

All is vanitas
The sights are all about us
Too late to catch bus

Sonnet

Is it against the law on the Sabbath day to save life.
But they said nothing.
Why sometimes with scoffers is silence so rife.
Is it left to unclean spirits to say something.

I am looking at Richter’s Crossing the Elbe.
The ferry with people of all ages.
Is it a ship of life on the stream of time; Nein, es ist nicht dasselbe.
No it’s not the same, it’s not the ferryman of life and death collecting his wages.

On the ferry the harp plays in the dying sun’s rays.
There is little talk.
But a sense of peace pervades.
A motif of romanticism, at which there is nothing to balk.

I wish I could be taken gently by time’s stream.
And view all life like a distant dream.

Haiku

It’s a ship of life
Now carrying all ages
In a stream of time

Sonnet

I lie half awake thinking about this verse.
In the beginning was the Word.
It seems to say everything though it’s so terse.
So God was with the Word and God was the Word.

I have been struggling with how the maker of billions of stars.
Could come to earth as man.
But the truth is ours.
It is in the word, this was always the plan.

How could God communicate with me.
Save through the word.
It’s all there in scripture, finally I can see.
In my hand I grasped this little gem of truth’s bird.

So it is the Word.
And before my vision was merely blurred.

Haiku

So it is the Word
Before my sight was just blurred
Truly I can see

Sonnet

Almighty ever-living God.
Who governs all things both in Heaven and on Earth.
If true we stand truly awed.
If only we could believe you give a safe birth.

But I watched on television death and hatred in a Honduras jail in crisis.
In another programme I marvelled at the nine billion years more of life of our solar system.
Are you really responsible for all this.
Do you give life to every ecosystem.

In seven billion years.
Earth will be swallowed by the red giant sun to become mere grimed dust.
Fire will burn away every atom and all tears.
We were born, we die, we live again as star dust.

But then today alone, quiet, barely perceived.
I felt your presence and believed.

Haiku

Quiet barely unseen
Alone I felt Your presence
And believed truly

Sonnet (Psalm 40, KJV)

He brought me also out of an horrible pit.
Out of the miry clay.
A candle need never expire once lit.
Our walk may hold sway.

Go and lie down and if someone calls say.
Speak Lord, your servant is listening.
Do we listen by night and by day.
Out there is a mist bound truth glistening.

I was sitting alone today in the church.
My mind full of irritation.
Was I to left in the lurch.
Would I ever arrive at a peaceful station.

But his words gladden the heart.
To pierce the encircling January gloom, a light filled dart.

Haiku

A horrible pit
He brought me out of mired clay
If I just listen

—

Mind irritation
Now His words my heart gladdened
I am not alone

It is not the healthy that need the doctor.
But the sick.
Who is our proctor.
Are we the dead or the quick.

I dreamt I was cycling with my grandchild.
In this heavenly slipstream.
No one and no thing riled.
We all were in one stream.

The word cuts like any double edged sword.
But more finely.
For it is the word of the Lord.
Between soul and spirit it searches keenly.

But once I am conscious.
I lose the hope of the unconscious.

Haiku

Cycling with granddaughter
In this heavenly slipstream
No one or thing riled

He Word of the Lord
Cuts through like a two-edged sword
But more finely

Sonnet

I was day dreaming, worrying absently.
Calamitous events, violence, accident, shame.
And then I realised, I am seventy, old age knocking and not so faintly.
A final calamitous event is fast approaching, all the same.

Am I going to wake up in a Renaissance painting masterpiece.
The Tuscan lit Virgin there before me.
Am I going to rise up all in one piece.
Or just an everlasting instant of glorious light is what I shall see.

And this body I pamper.
Washing caring, clothing.
Will lie rotting in that cold churchyard in soil’s dark deep layer.
How I dislike and shudder at that cold earth unsparing.

Or is this reported near death light just physical.
Hey, ho, no matter, it is by all accounts beautiful.

Haiku

At death what awaits
Glorious light everlasting
Or just then nothing

Sonnet

Harden not your hearts as at Meribah.
As on that day at Massah in the desert.
Sometimes in dreams you can see far.
Sleeping you can still be alert.

This psalm the first sung in the morning.
Always brings memories of sleepy dawn monastery matins.
And joy awakening.
English vernaculars surfacing out of the Latins.

I dreamt last night I was walking in a city.
I passed an ancient beautiful synagogue.
I hesitated to enter, more the pity.
Here was some long lost truth I could not fathom through time’s fog.

And then this evening I sat alone in the darkening church.
Here was an atmosphere leaden with joyous mysticism to aid my search.

Haiku

Heart at Meribah
On that lost day at Massah
In the far desert

Sonnet

He set free all those who had been held in slavery.
All their lives through fear of death.
It is fear of annihilation that tests our bravery.
We are slaves to fear about that last breath.

I dreamt last night I was hiding someone.
But from what and who.
And was it myself or no one.
I had no idea what to do.

Death is so mysterious.
Is it annihilation or new life.
Utter silence or happiness so delirious.
But any way freedom from strife.

The priest told us at Mass today that we would live.
But I only know for sure that for the present I shall continue to strive.

Haiku

Death so mysterious
Annihilation now
Or new life ever

Sonnet

If he has put him in command of everything.
He has left nothing which is not under his command.
To whose praise should we sing.
God of everything in hand.

We barely comprehend.
Who has control.
Who can break and mend.
Or how we can be made whole.

What is man that you should spare a thought for him.
The Son of Man that you should care for him.
No, we are not here by some whim.
We are a holy limb.

But only if there is a god for whom everything exists.
And through Whom everything exists.

Haiku

Yes a god for all
That exists and yes for Whom
Everything exists

Upon a lofty throne I saw a man seated
Whom a host of angels adore singing in unison.
This all I can see, he has created.
But can I put all doubt to confusion.

I dreamt that I was lonely.
Standing at the end of a deep pit.
Myself still only.
All was grey grit.

My children came.
I could move with them on shoulders.
Flowers now made that place aflame.
We were now of a future beholders.

But now I was old, my path strewn with boulders.
I could only move on their shoulders.

Sonnet

No sooner had he come from the water.
He saw the heavens torn apart.
The plain I was in was flat, dismal, a seeming backwater.
Seemingly a place of no beauty or art.

Miles, the car had descended.
Deep down towards the Dead Sea, a world away from lush Galilee.
Here was suffocating heat and comfort ended.
With this blinding light we could scarcely see.

The walk without shade to the Baptism site.
Then standing alone by the insignificant twenty foot wide river.
All now was shady cool and gently bright.
History unfurled, here was the giver.

I washed my feet in the water’s slow stream.
A time to dream.

Haiku

I washed my hot feet
At the shady baptism site
A time now to dream

Sonnet

Since God loved us so much.
We too should love one another.
His is so light a touch.
To all can we not be sister and brother.

To love God is easy.
To love all is so hard.
Even to acknowledge someone who has harmed you is queasy.
We have constantly to be on our guard.

So if we love one another.
God will live in us.
But so many are to us just the other.
It is and always has been thus.

But should we not know this because we share His loving spirit.
If we just listen we may hear it.

Haiku

God will live in us
But many are just other
Just listen and hear

Sonnet

God is love.
God’s love for us was revealed.
A fluttering dove.
A compact sealed.

But love is a concept.
Can God be an idea.
Difficult to accept.
But it is wisdom, Sophia.

Is God, more, all seeing.
More than a virtue.
More than a being.
With his love nothing can hurt you.

So love became real.
In his son so that we may live and feel.

Haiku

So Love became real
In His Son so that we live
And so that we feel

Sonnet

The people that lived in darkness has seen a great light.
On those who dwell in the land and shadow of death a light has dawned.
This is the message of right not might.
And this birth of light was forewarned.

C рождеством.S Rojdyeh stvom.
Happy Russian Christmas.
It passes, the storm.
Hope and rebirth are and should be our business.

We stand in the Orthodox service.
Here is a full panoply of senses.
Incense, chant, a balm to stop us being life nervous.
Breaking down our reasoned defences.

But in the end it is this word that counts, to this we are sworn.
For us a Child is born.

Haiku

It’s the Word that counts
It’s for us a Child is born
To this we are sworn

Sonnet

All are assembling and coming towards you.
Your sons from far away.
From all corners of the world the wind blew.
This was the centre of the Universe on this glorious day.

People concentrate on the stature of the three kings.
But isn’t the real point that the first pilgrims came from all peoples.
This was to be a faith spread on distant wings.
Soaring like eagles.

It started with the humblest of followers.
The shepherds came first.
Then every faith and creed became wallowers.
All for truth had this insatiable thirst.

Can we too welcome people from far away.
Just seekers like us are they.

Haiku

Welcome far people
Just seekers like us for truth
So like us are they

Sonnet

My children, do not let anyone lead you astray.
To live a holy life.
Fast fails the day.
Ending all strife.

I was dreaming of the future of oblates.
If the monks leave an abbey for elsewhere.
Perhaps they should open heart’s gates.
They could continue to pray and sing the office there.

Was not St Benedict a layman at first.
Can there not be more of a role for lay people.
Can they not too for commitment thirst.
Can they not climb faith’s steeple.

There may be an important role with full involvement.
But that does not affect their full commitment.

Haiku

Not full involvement
But yet still full commitment
If thirst to commit