Out of the depths
Peering upward
Black to grey,
Caught by shafts of light.
Warmth, intermittent.
Faith, faltering.

In Christ I stand
– on weakened feet –
And wait for that morning.


And have I wings
About to burst through?
Or is it my back breaking,
Crushed by heaviness?
The straw that breaks, a sword
To run me through.
My body shrinking,
Functions dwindling,
Crouched within myself,
Cold, dark, hungry.
My horizons rushing inward
Eyes grow weary
Grey to eternity,
The final sleep.

Still, my spirit flutters.
Unsure of direction,
Focused on light.

Have I wings?
Will I again fly?

Making The Pilgrimage

Son, I used to work here
Many years ago
But memory burns dim
Across the chasm
For the last time, workmates’ faces
Rise up like dying ghosts
Despite their dimness
I grieve to see them go.
And this was where
My house once stood
In quiet confidence.
It stood for years,
As strong as life was then.
I played beneath the slender beams
Caught tadpoles in the muddy streams
Death’s morbid hand
Had never brushed my face.
Like stills across a movie screen
Old shops seem to reappear
In festive brightness,
Face against the glass.
In later years, the picture shows
School concerns and boyhood woes
Evenings on the old front porch
Or at the local dance hall.
Crickets, heralding the sun
Driving rain to break the drought
Falling, like firecrackers
In a distant sky.
Here’s the street where I first drove
The Kingswood, on a dusty night –
That back seat’s where
Your Ma and me (Well, never mind..)
We planned our lives here –
Lived them too
There’s the hospital where
We first met you
Didn’t want to move
But life works out that way.
But I’m grateful, son
To have this chance
To meet old friends
On one last dance
To track down all
My precious memories.
So hold me here
Pin me back
I need more time
To reconcile
Myself to that
Ne’erending life above.
Lean on me, for old time’s sake
When my time comes
I’ll return the gift
And my night shall deepen
Into mourning.


Looks like it’ll rain.
About time, they say
Don’t know, myself –
A bit grey…

Where’s the downpour?
Crackling, alive
Young again –
Where’s that gone?
That energy before the storm…

Something’s got to change!
I’ve put my life in Your hands,
And I trust You.
I do.

But, just this moment –
Can You give me a clue?
I know where I’m eventually headed
But I’d like a glimpse of next week…
Maybe just some sort of sense –

Are there too many options,
Or too few?

I feel Your breath over me.
“Patience,” You say.
But something’s got to change..

Here comes the rain.


It’s been a long time
Since Midnight Mass.
The cold night air
Visible breath
Shivering in the pew.

We sank into Peace
Immersed in Wonder,
Beheld  You.

There’s a song
Hidden deep
In every heart.
We feel the vibrations
Of an answering call –

Some days the veil
Between this earth and there
Is breached
Whisked aside
And we see the Eternity
Fixed in our hearts.
Eyes meet
Spirit soars
Christmas Day each morning
And the curtain is drawn back.

Speak To Me

Spring has spoken.
Where once was bare
Expressionless earth,
Now breaks through –
All corners beauty.
Not cold enough, here
For my heart to freeze
But still,
It’s been cold
On the edge of questions…
Spring sings –
In my spirit
Life is coming.


I have felt
A sweet contentment
I have felt it
In my veins
Flowing through me
Through my being
Lending peace to
All my days
Sometimes veiled, and
Sometimes hidden
But always constant
Within me –
Jesus, Lord of
All my longing,
Come now closer –
Transform me!