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

The lame shall leap like a deer.
And the tongues of the dumb sing for joy.
We never need dread our fear.
worry about the future, just this moment enjoy.

I was sitting in the warm sun.
Watching a match at the Oval.
The batsmen rarely seemed to run.
But that didn’t stop the crowd being vocal.

Time passes slowly but not boringly.
Attention is just on the passing play.
I cannot see the ball , but I hear it hit the bat loudly.
The sun is sleep inducing , the crowd noisily have their say.

Never again will I leap like these cricketers.
But I enjoy the game without worries or tears.

—-+++—-

Cricket bat on ball
Quiet focus on this moment
Nothing much happens

—-+++—-

See Isaiah 35:4-7

Put in our hearts the love of your name.
So that we may nurture what is good.
Help us to feel no shame, attribute no blame.
To thank more and do what we could and should.

Last night I was trying in the darkness to look for brightness.
Thinking  mindfully only of the breath beyond.
I seemed in my dream to be enveloped in whiteness.
There is no way to wave a magic wand.

But I felt a strange sense of otherness.
We can for a moment transcend our being.
But in a second it is defeated by our selfishness.
Understanding is replaced with hearing and seeing.

I looked out of the window, trees silvery, not a breath of wind.
Intense starlight, no moon ,  that is a good place park the mind.

—-+++—-

Not a breath of wind.
No moon, just lit by starlight
The trees silvery

—-+++—-

See Collect of the day

Pray that the flourishing of a holy flock.
May become the eternal joy of the shepherd.
Everything had been bound in tedious lock.
Complaining e mails, decisions, freedom fettered.

I paused awhile now in the country lane, happy
Just looking at the grass waving in the wind
Wild mustard, radish , flax ,bush grass and poppy.
One could die here peacefully and not mind .

A swoosh, a bicycle powering down the lane at speed.
Missed by inches , I might have died.
But I didn’t , he missed, from injury I was freed.
The people sped past, now only wind sighed.

So rest awhile enjoy the moment, you are not hurt .
But in the midst of day dreaming, best to be alert.

—-+++—-

Try to be mindful
Freed from exterior pain
But best be alert

—-+++—-

See Collect of the day

Have mercy on me for I cry to you all day long.
O Lord you are good and forgiving.
So often it is more dirge than song.
We seem always to be on the road, never arriving.

I have tried being mindfully alert to my thoughts.
All I see is a succession of negative and regretful ones.
Everything seems tied up in tangled knots.
From every side we seem beset with metaphorical guns.

And then I tried cleaning the kitchen sideboard like brass.
Slowly ,mindfully you can find peace .
God is here as much as in a Palestrina mass.
Or a painting by Titian, here time can cease.

So never give in , bear everything joyfully.
Hope is also in mundane things done joyfully.

—-+++—-

So never give in
Bear everything with joy
Even the mundane

—-+++—-

See Collect of the day and Colossians 1:9-14

Put into our hearts the love of your name.
That you may nurture what is good in our hearts.
We will after this moment never be the same.
They come in all of life, these spiritual darts.

Today I was eating my porridge too quickly.
Thinking of all of today’s problems and of self.
I need to concentrate on this moment , think slowly.
The next moment can look after itself.

God voice is in this porridge.
There is no need to meditate.
This could his holy carriage.
He may even be on this plate.

God may or may not be in all things.
But this moment of now is what rings .

—-+++—-

Concentrate on now
The present is all we have
God may be in it

—-+++—-

See Psalm 51

You are all sons of light.
And sons of the day.
The evening cool was in sight.
And I took a walk around Thoresway.

What glorious open views.
The hills stretching far away.
Every shade of green and quiet to muse .
This is a place to pause , rest and stay.

And here waved the white poppy.
The last crop of barley and wheat .
Gently tramping the stubble , happy .
Far from the busy roads, a retreat .

Pausing to sense the wind through the crop.
Mindful only of the present moment, time to stop.

—-+++—-

Rest in the moment
Feel the quiet wind through the trees
No past or future

—-+++—-

See 1 Thessalonians 5:1-6,9-11

Be certain about those who have died.
So that you do not grieve for them.
No one has lied.
They have not gone, they will come.

Will I see my mother and father again.
Now they come only in dreams .
But one day I will see them without stain.
They will not be taken away by time’s flowing streams .

I pray that one day I may hear the trumpet of God
And hear the voice of the archangel.
Then we all will truly be awed.
And we will all have a chance to be an angel.

We will meet again , it is set.
But happily not quite yet.

—-+++—-

We will meet again
But happily not quite yet
In death not in life

—-+++—-

See 1 Thessalonians 4 : 13-18

Accept and submit to the word.
Which has been planted in you.
We ask ourselves if we have been heard.
Saying is there anything else we can do in lieu.

I try my best at mindfulness.
But on its own it seems a dead end.
And I am prone to restlessness.
I worry if my worries really are on the mend.

I prefer to meditate with a purpose.
And with the help of scripture.
I make spiritual gains as fast as a tortoise.
Either way contentment is the lure.

I’m not sure it’s enough to concentrate on the breathing.
For some time ,maybe quite soon , that will be ceasing.

—-+++—-

Be mindful surely
But not just of your breathing
But eternity

—-+++—-

See James: 1-17,21-22,27

Let the sea and all within thunder.
Let the rivers clap their hands.
Will the sails of our life be torn asunder.
Will we never reach calm lands.

The storm rises, the waves surge, will you live to tell the tale.
You can be filled with stress.
Or you can reef your sail.
You cannot control the waves or make them less.

You can sink beneath life’s wave.
Or you can ride it’s rage.
The sea does not consciously behave.
Stand still, close haul, head for port’s anchorage.

We cannot control what assaults the mind.
We just should not that much mind.

—-+++—-

We cannot control
The assaults on our own mind
We should just not care

—-+++—-

See Psalm 97

 
Let all the coastlands be glad.
The mountains melt like wax.
With such beauty all around we cannot be sad.
For he fills in all of nature’s cracks.

We need to rest awhile in this moment.
We may not have a distant view of mountains.
We may not be gazing at the ocean’s current.
We may just be staring at closed curtains.

But the beauty is here now.
In the stillness of our mind.
Long forgotten is any wearisome row.
So too the worried future , the daily grind.

The future is not yet gained, The past is lost.
But this present moment comes without cost.

——-+++—-

The past is now lost
The future is not yet gained
Livefor the present

—-+++—-

See Psalm 96

May the Lord make you love one another.
And the whole human race as much as we love you.
Our own self self regard is our own tether.
Apart from our families there are others too.

We love our children and grandchildren so much.
Why can we not love everybody like that.
I suppose it is about having a delicate sensibility and touch.
Of knowing where we truly are at.

Strange that last night I was dreaming this question.
Then today’s reading flagged it up.
It is often the way if we keep dreams in possession.
So with dreams we fill truth’s cup.

But to think we should do something.
Is a long way from doing anything.

—-+++—-

Trying to do it
Is a way from achievement
But we can still try

—-+++—-

See Thessalonians 3:7-13

If climb the heavens you are there.
If I lie in the grave you are there.
But He keep asking where is where.
Although I know you care.

If I say let the darkness hide me and light be night.
Even darkness is not dark for you, the night is as day .
In the impenetrable darkness around me I see your light.
When I say in despair I can’t, you say yes you may.

Last night I saw my body becoming bed ridden.
My mind sinking with untreatable dementia.
But I knew that life and health is not forbidden.
We are more than this, there is no need for hysteria.

So I will look to the early dawn’s glimmer.
It never fails to come ever brighter.

—-+++—-

The dawn never fails
However dark the night it comes
Whatever we say

—-+++—-

See Psalm 138