Sonnet

Schooled through Lenten observance.
And nourished by your word.
How to follow this ordinance.
Was ever something stirred.

How I fail in restraint and fall into fault.
I don’t really want to give anything up.
Alcohol, not being cross, all too difficult.
Not even something modest to sup.

How about trying to do something positive.
A bit of alms giving perhaps.
Or trying not to be negative.
And then after a day I lapse.

Perhaps a thought is enough.
It’s all a bit ready and a bit rough.

Haiku

What to give up now
Or better to do something
I do so little

Sonnet

Not seven times I tell you.
But seventy-seven times.
Forgiveness is the one thing we fear to pursue.
These are not our natural lines.

It’s worse if you try and do it; it certainly doesn’t come lightly to the touch.
It reminds you of what the person did to you.
But we ourselves have been forgiven so much.
Better maybe to dwell on that gift too.

In Carl Spitzweg’s painting, the poor poet sits alone, seemingly lame.
Disconsolate unread.
Not for him, written on the book’s binding, gradus ad parnassum, the height of fame.
Nothing much of him can be said.

But perhaps one thing, he forgives and does not resent the fire’s and his dying flame.
Because the pleasure is in creation and writing not in fame.

Haiku

Forgiving matters
The pleasure is creating
Not then in just fame

Sonnet

Send forth your light.
And your truth.
Open my eyes to my inward sight.
Return me to the certainties of my youth.

I stood in our kitchen watching her pottering outside.
Weeding, talking to herself and leaf brushing.
Suddenly resistant to fortune’s tide.
My whole heart was with love bursting.

I am reading Lampedusa’s The Leopard.
How I relate to its mournful regrets at time passing.
To be conservatively inclined is perhaps just to be a mournful retard.
We mourn all that is lost with age advancing.

But one thing need not pass with a little help from above.
And that is love.

Haiku

One thing passes not
With some help from up above
And that is true love

Sonnet

The sparrow finds a home.
And the swallow a nest for her young.
All wisdom is contained in nature’s tome.
Unconscious goodness in the throat of a bird is sung.

The tractor was ploughing and drilling the field.
All was in order with straight lines marked.
But a great disorderly flock of gulls followed and wheeled.
All careful efforts of man unmarked.

Could our intelligence be less than an ant’s; we worship our ego and our life.
But minutes after we die, all electrical currents in the brain cease.
All memories, all hope and fears, cut away utterly with bloodless knife.
No freehold for us, only an all too temporary non renewable lease.

But hopefully our crumbling temple though destroyed.
Will after a few days, in glory and in other form, be restored.

Haiku

Our temple destroyed
Then after three days restored
In greater glory

Sonnet

The flock that is your heritage.
With meadow land all around.
We wilt under the demanding adding inbox, yet forget what stays from age to age.
What is rooted in timeless nature is truly sound.

Yesterday we lit a bonfire on the garden.
The smoke rose, the great mound of old twigs dissolved.
I sat in the cool spring day, the fire was intense, golden.
Time just was, who cares that no problems had been solved.

And that vast pile of garden rubbish.
Reduced to a clean white circle of ash.
So our own bodies and life passes and will diminish.
Cleaned, washed, pampered and burnished, then so much rotting trash.

But the cleansing bonfire was beautiful.
For what we have been, we always should be grateful.

Haiku

The cleansing bonfire
Golden beautiful then ash
Like our passing lives

Sonnet

It was the stone rejected by the builders.
That became the cornerstone.
Life entrances, yet also bewilders.
We shout for joy then inwardly groan.

We look back on our own life.
Youthful peaks of ambition and hope.
Descending into dark valleys full of difficulty and strife.
Now on a gentle downward undulating slope.

Best put it all in perspective, it is nothing beside the wonders of the universe.
Today I looked at the amazing Perseverance rover images of Mars.
Seemingly so close I could almost touch the rocks, a 3D picture in verse.
Yet these photos are taken so very far away, it seems half way to the stars.

So as I persevere in this quiet green valley of mine,
I think of the red Jezero crater and something half divine.

Haiku

Put in perspective
All life’s troubles up and down
Look at Mars’ surface

Sonnet

He is like a tree by the waterside.
That thrusts its roots to the stream.
Our life flows in and ebbs out like the tide.
Nothing is quite like as it would seem.

Are we really like the rich man.
Ignoring poor Lazarus at our gate.
Surely it’s not as if we’ve done anything wrong, it’s just he was beneath our scan.
And our eyes were opened too late.

But it’s true by then it all be no use warning others.
After all when alive we paid no heed to any warning.
Despite the evidence from our betters.
I suppose we were past caring.

But if we put trust in other than man.
We might keep our roots by the stream during our span.

Haiku

Trust other than man
Might keep our roots by the stream
During our long span

Roots dig by water
The stream flows gently by it
Waters its great age

Sonnet

Make haste and come to my help.
O Lord, my strong salvation.
As much as we try, it’s just not enough, self-help.
We can’t do this on our own, I think I know my station.

I’m certainly not worthy.
For Him to enter under my roof.
But I plod on wearily
I sometimes think of myself as an incompetent sleuth.

Always trying to work out what is the truth.
But the answer always eludes me.
It’s like a kind of persistent sore tooth.
The more I try the less I see.

So perhaps the answer is to relax and leave the door open, not worrying about virtue or sin.
And He might just come in.

Haiku

Answer, just relax
Leave the door open and He
comes under my roof

Sonnet

Everything they do.
Is done to attract attention.
They twisted as the wind blew.
To avoid any tension.

But am I the same.
Perhaps I shouldn’t say anything.
Make no claim.
To no faith or practice cling.

But surely if you bear witness.
You don’t need to set yourself on a pedestal.
Or plead innocence of any unfitness.
You can be instantly forgettable.

So I will continue to write.
However lacking in spiritual insight.

Haiku

Continue to write
However lacking in spirit
Or forgettable

Feast of Saint David

Sonnet

I am racing for the finish.
For the prize for which God calls us.
We will slowly diminish.
But we have had our chance, many have not even been allowed on life’s bus.

I dreamt that I saw, walking towards me, a great crowd of small children.
Then, in this dream, a horrible kind of remorselessly advancing ink obliterated them.
Now was their future completely hidden.
I was utterly shocked and numb.

These dear little ones taken in the womb.
Countless numbers of otherwise gorgeous babies, delightful toddlers.
I saw their approaching doom.
Hidden now for ever under death’s black waters.

But I saw salvation coming, not in a change of laws.
But in a change of heart in this great cause.

Haiku

Salvation comes
Not in a change of passing laws
But in change of heart

Sonnet

My heart has spoken.
Seek his face.
Hidden deep in our consciousness is his token.
As delicate a trace as lace.

The only thing that really does matter.
What happens after death to our consciousness.
In my dream I saw it as a definite object that cannot shatter.
In capable of descending into final darkness.

We are all children of light.
Everyone we meet in supermarket or street.
Is forever in his sight.
Yes, everyone however unlikely, we meet.

This picture of the conscious seemed utterly separate from my body.
Incapable of a permanent home in anything so shoddy.

Haiku

Consciousness is
Incapable of being
Always of the flesh

Sonnet (Psalm 130 KJV)

Beati immaculati, they are happy.
Whose life is blameless.
The swallow in her innocence wanders gladly.
Her marathon flight so courageous.

How I yearn for your arrival.
Completing your great pilgrimage from South Africa,
One day on the high wold I will know of your travel.
And hear your song so laughrica.

I doubt if I will see your slender stream lined body and forked tail.
You announce good times but half your numbers will not survive.
Here you will search for your insect snack, your holy grail.
Perhaps I will catch a sight of your determined crash dive.

How I ask do you navigate eight thousand miles.
And survive without complaint, like us, your trials.

Haiku

Come swallow arrive
Spring is here you say at last
Your song enthrals me

Sonnet

De Profundis.
Out of the depths have I called.
Out of mortal dark comes lasting bliss.
Out there is an open valley, yet this world is tightly walled.

My daughter’s thousand piece puzzle of Raphaello’s The School of Athens finally completed.
Yet two pieces are missing.
In life in the end we always are cheated.
On a turbulent sea drifting.

In the centre stands Plato.
For all his knowledge still deficient.
Yet the puzzle can still grow.
Despite failure hope is sufficient.

We feel alone, sitting in the dark looking at the sun’s rays.
Our fears yet to be resolved at the end of our days.

Haiku

We are all alone
In the dark seeking the Sun
Fears resolved by life

Sonnet

The one who knocks.
Will always have the door opened.
Life is a series of doors with impossible locks.
Life decays as soon as it is ripened.

We cannot undo these locks without aid.
But when we ask they just fall apart.
This soothing other worldly help is soothing healing jade.
This medicine penetrates our very heart.

I wonder why we seldom ask.
Do we forget, are we shy.
We know we have to do that to complete any task.
We just have to ourselves not lie.

We know that if our son asks, we give.
So why not ourselves ask and live.

Haiku

If our son asks us
We will always give to him
So ask our father

Sonnet

Go to Nineveh the great city.
And preach to them as I told you to.
On Jonah we should have pity.
What could he do.

We shy away also from the challenge.
We end up where we would rather not be.
Our fate is savage.
We refuse to see.

But after trial we muddle through.
We cannot resist the call.
We always of course knew.
Even if we have to crawl.

We will eventually pass on what we are told.
Everything else has long since been sold.

Haiku

We will now pass on
Everything we are once told
That is our duty

Sonnet

Do not babble as the pagans do.
Because they think that by using many words they will make themselves heard.
So is this prayer’s clue.
What distinguishes us from the herd.

The Our Father is so simple.
So powerful in its message.
In this great cacophony the merest dimple.
But we ask what does it presage.

It is this, he is there.
We acknowledge him to thrive.
We want to do his will here.
Give us just enough to survive.

Forgive us when we go wrong.
As we do to others all day long.

Haiku

Forgive us our wrong
As we forgive others’ wrongs
Again and again

Sonnet

Fresh and green are the pastures.
Where he gives me repose.
He protects us from all disasters.
For he knows.

I would never have had Peter’s certainty.
I am the constant doubter.
And will have a long wait for eternity.
Perhaps I should have been a more positive shouter.

Faith is a gift.
I am weak.
It is not given, am I cast adrift.
No, I can only seek.

I wish I could have said, You are the Christ.
Could I have been enticed.

Haiku

Wish I could have said
You are Christ, the son of God
Could I be enticed

Sonnet

I will establish my covenant.
No thing of the flesh will be swept away.
This will be our own government.
Whilst we pray.

We have only to create our own ark.
The waters can wash away our fears.
We need never fear the dark.
Or shed unnecessary tears.

If we we search his ways.
And seek his paths over the years.
We can be held in his gaze.
And avoid dread fears.

Remember his promise.
It is ours to miss.

Haiku

Remember promise
Covenants made for all time
And just for us now

Sonnet

Your light will rise in the darkness.
And your shadows become like noon.
We seek truth in stillness.
We will have the answer soon.

Home is down a narrowing lane.
Fast falls the gathering dusk.
How to baulk the curse of Cain.
Is life an empty husk.

Far away there is a light.
In the deep valley.
Barely visible in the night.
It is life’s tally.

I can only limp on.
For me a lamp has shone.

Haiku

I can only limp.
Onwards a lamp shines brightly
It is a tally.

Sonnet

Shout for all you are worth.
Raise your voice like a trumpet.
Be full of quiet mirth.
And do not unduly fret.

In the village church with distant country noises sounding.
Blackbird, far away, barely distinct singing.
Cows peacefully lowing, their shouting.
Tractor barely heard, warning beeping, reversing.

Wind gently sighing.
Chickens busily clucking.
Time just standing.
A branch brushes a window, nothing else moving.

Lent is for silence, not just denial.
To be alone is no trial.

Haiku

Lent is for silence
Not just lonely denial
Alone is no trial

Sonnet

Choose life then.
So that you and your predecessors may live.
Do not ask how or when.
Seek only to strive.

We are in a room.
Behind us a locked door, the past.
In front one unlocked, leading to our tomb.
What lies beyond that door, we will find out at last.

I was alone in the silence of the cell at San Marco.
Before me a fresco by Fra Angelico of the Resurrection.
Y a Marco se embarco.
And Marco embarked in translation.

We too soon will embark, that door ahead is ajar.
We need not fear, passing through this door will leave no scar.

Haiku

We soon will embark
That door ahead is ajar
Leaving then no scar

Sonnet

Turn to the Lord your God again.
For He is tenderness and compassion.
He is ready to remove all stain.
And free us from all life’s passion.

I am watching two programmes, one on the Ness of Brodgar excavation.
The other on Pluscarden Abbey in Scotland.
One three thousand years old but already concerned with spiritual contemplation.
The other dating from 1204, the last remaining medieval monastic island.

The film of the abbey is a meditation.
Silent save for the Divine Office chant.
The Gregorian chant is Joy’s foundation.
A delicately growing spring plant.

Today need not be one of sadness.
But of fond memories and gladness.

Haiku

No sadness today
Fond memories of joy found
Meditation

Sonnet

The Lord saw that the wickedness of man was great.
And that the thoughts in his heart fashioned nothing but wickedness.
But of travail came birth.
And no little brittleness.

People ask what to give up for Lent.
But why should religion be about denial.
So ask what already we have been sent.
Are we brought here for hope or trial.

We don’t have to give up something.
We can do something.
The burden need not be crushing.
We can put out the bunting.

So for Lent I will think on the joy of meditation.
An equally good way out of damnation.

Haiku

Meditation
It’s a good way to fend off
All damnation

Sonnet

Why does this generation demand a sign.
No sign will be given to this generation.
We imagine all will be fine.
All will be well with our nation.

We don’t even look for any augury.
And worry not that none has been sent to our contemporaries.
But there is a sign given by an old psaltery.
And this chant carries.

The problem lies now not with the Pharisees.
But with the don’t cares.
Not with those on their knees.
But those who forget the ancient seers.

But for those who can read.
The signs are still there to lead.

Haiku

For those who can read
The signs are still there to see
Just listen quietly

Sonnet

As long as the disease lasts.
He must live apart.
Wither our paths.
Where can we start.

Do we live with disease.
Or eradicate all risk.
Can we appreciate that we never will be totally at ease.
Only change is brisk.

I dreamt that my mother was waiting at the door.
Full of joy, I hurried forward.
Desperate for the dream to last more.
But to my sadness I woke up, from her I could hear no more word.

We resent all interruptions and the end.
But that is our fate and when we start to mend.

Haiku

Resent interruption
That is our fate’s vocation
Then we start to mend