Arts Articles
Silence Like Rain
Silence, like rain, falling on the Quaker Meeting, on the congregation of rooks at the edge of the wood, on the sangha where a young monk enters late, at the back, folds his saffron robe in place a little too carefully, then even he forgets himself
‘Somehow we even managed to fit in free time and a Saturday evening entertainment.’
It must be more than twenty years ago that I first took part in the annual Quaker Choral and Chamber Music weekend at Charney Manor, where singers and instrumentalists of all ages gathered to sing, play and live together for a weekend of intensive musical and spiritual fellowship. A lot...
‘His sermons are filled with a humour born of setback and humility.’
With the simple and deep gift of time in my hands – time in our garden – I find myself dipping into John Donne’s sermons. It feels right. He was writing them in a time of plague and he was a man who consistently believed in mercy, in prayer and in...
Entering the Space
Where the river flows that’s source-less and ocean-less and bubbles its full stops without a single catching sentence.
Holy Saturday (Psalm 62)
The Altar table stripped, no coverings, bare The Tabernacle silver lined is naked, open The life red of the Sanctuary light extinguished. Pews preach empty, in the silence of the tomb, Heaven sitting shiva, statues covered, The Word, unspoken, Is absent from the World, blood still, corpse cold.
You say you haven’t heard one for years
i Not squeezed your eyes to the sky, to find that black dot, that source of tumble tumble torrent on an invisible stave, not turned to see the sound of air played as light, spring spiraling, the field where you stand ...
Still
This earth is the same earth, is it not, which we traversed with determination, where, in former times, we ventured forth, when travel was permitted, and choice was ours over time and destination? This earth now proclaims a different dominion. It cries out now from the fissures we have torn...
A prayer-poem for a pandemic
May we who are merely inconvenienced Remember those whose lives are at stake. May we who have no risk factors Remember those most vulnerable.
Anxiety
I asked anxiety to dig one hole. It went to work, until the green sward of my garden was upturned: a mole field runnelled with mud, gorged and pitted.
Greenham
It was a weight to carry – the dread overcoming me and it was time to act – to take back what was stolen from us. Our right to survive. I was not alone. Women, together, we were strong.