I Beg To Differ

Let’s not sugar-coat this, please.

I am so dismayed –

the merchants and money-changers are still in the temple

the Pharisees continue to preach

the Samaritans are still being vilified

and Pilate is still

somewhat obsessively

washing his hands.

No wonder Mary Magdalene weeps. 

I understand

if you would rather run and hide

or stay silent

or comply.

I understand

if you are totally paralysed.

Let’s not try to make silk purses

out of this particular sow’s ears. 

Devotion

You are bringing me home
and I, despite myself, adore you. 

Patiently, persistently, gently
you keep on calling
(you know how hard I try
to stay apart from you,
and you know all the tricks
in my well-thumbed playbook). 

You are bringing all of us home
and we, despite ourselves, adore you. 

Utterances

In this place

where history holds no sway

yet even the deepest scars are loved,

no-one is known by name

nor failures and accomplishments

nor colour of eyes, hair or skin.

In this place

the language spoken

is the delicate tongue

of remembrance and longing,

of intimation, tears

and the unspeakable joy

of being known. 

The No Claims Department

The prophets knew
that the biggest claim of all
is no claim at all. 

With nothing to call their own
the silence overcame them
and the deepest silence
became the loudest proclamation. 

The messiahs understood
they were declaiming 
all claims null and void. 

Once the claiming is done
the exclamations begin. 

Check the Small Print

This territory you’ve staked out, in the mistaken belief that it is yours:

when you check the small print,

you’ll discover it doesn’t belong to you,

however vehement your claims.

I demanded conditionality,

preferring confinement to the expanses beyond.

I kept accounts; favours done, debts incurred

All weighed in the balance

as I exacted my imagined dues

(I thought life owed me

and I thought you did, too)

We bleed ourselves dry trying to make life abide

by our caveats, clauses, and conditions.

Without them, I am so outrageously, indecently alive.

Sunken

All of it happened

All of it finite, all of it gone

Yet here’s me

trying to rearrange the chairs

on the long-submerged deck

as if there is still a chance

of rendering the shipwreck bearable, somehow

Many leagues beneath this futile activity

Abundant life blooms in the stillness, undisturbed.

(Better sailors know when to jump ship)

Eve Was A Realist

I feigned ignorance (until that first touch)

But mercifully my spell in Eden was brief;

I tumbled from the garden bruised, but ever-grateful

that we can’t unknow what we know

Surely we’ve all bitten into the apple a little too eagerly at times,

intent on proving our innocence?

Eve was a realist

She knew it was time to blow the whistle

on all Adam’s fig-leaf cover ups

And like all good messengers, she got shot

In the silence, I hear her whisper:

Tree or no tree, you already know how naked you are

So stop pretending otherwise.

We Are Land, Too

This is not the time to break:

Much as I long for the refuge of the waters,

that headlong dive into brokenness,

we are made of stone, too, and can contain

all that flows

Holding our shape, the granite of our bones such a necessary strength

If we’re to avoid a drowning

Mammals of land and sea

Shallow, deep

Liquid and solid

We are beyond yet needful of both

As dependent on one as the other

Study the charts:

Sometimes it’s wiser to answer the Sirens’ call

And bask on the rocks a while

The wind and sun drying our skin

Our contours once again defined

Trust me, the depths will reclaim us soon enough.

Absolution

I came to you wanting

but I really didn’t want this

I thought this was a boat I could miss

but postponement is no longer an option

I loved you too much to come this close

I kneel at your door, and you let me in

This is absolution:

it was the forgiveness I couldn’t stand