Sunday, 2 April 2017

Still Standing

Without self-pity
Standing still, 
and still standing
having with-stood those waves
that threaten to obliterate:
shame, pain, grief. 

I simply stand
Not bowing, but willing
A stand neither rigid nor flaccid

I Am:
no more, no less. 

Water and rock,
we flow and contain
we are motion and stillness both.

All this life already come and gone,
and still you stand
because You Are:
no more, no less. 



Monday, 23 January 2017

The Walls of Jericho

What if we died to division,
to my-way-or-the-highway,
to squabbles, large or small,
to she-said-he-said,
feelings, good or bad
or memories, ditto?

What if we died to the sacred cows
of suffering, pleasure and pain,
to yes-but, if-only and not-now?

What if we died to the whole shebang?
To buying and selling,
to preaching and prostrating,
to taking a stance,
making a claim, or
having an opinion (right)
which makes yours (wrong)?

What if we stopped
and the walls of Jericho fell?

Saturday, 21 January 2017

Iconoclasm

Body and soul were cleft,
cathedrals built on the bones of women
and wombs made unclean
Creation stemmed and stymied
by the sheer pain of denying that flesh is spirit

We went from true communion among us
to looking up to some idea of god

It is not that you are not your body,
for your body is the most sublime creation of what you are -
creativity made flesh
so that it may create -
Your constant companion through all your travails
The bearer of your sorrows

Worship not god but hand, eye, foot, breast
The true bringers of love and sustenance

Dismantle your temples and shrines
Make your icons ordinary
Tend to the divine in your midst

This wound runs deep in us all.