Poetry

Fill us with yourself

Fill us with yourself Pour out your mercy on us we don’t know what we do our words are sharp and hard or so benign and weak

The Feathered Choir

Asmy sense of hearing awakens me on Christmas Eve morning
I become aware of a magpie song echoing all around and ascending to God, and the harmony when other magpies contribute to the sound.

Vision of holiness

I was sitting on my balcony And the night was kind and cool All of a sudden I saw God the Holy Spirit Circling the moon

Everyone passes through Gethsemane

Everyone passes through Gethsemane, my mother to me said. Those words stay in my heart. I knew that she had sweated blood; had times alone in agony…

Lenten Dream

When I was a child everything cried out ‘Holy, Holy, Holy’. The grass was so green, displaying the Creator’s hand…