Poems and readings to reflect on and shape your faith

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Latest Posts

Feeling Autumnal?

Mars burns bright and close this October: I watch it through the window, as I lie, too-awake, in the dark. Drawn-in under covers as the cold bites, I shrink, foetal-shaped but old-fleshed, frail.   I am autumnal: dry-leaved, mud-under-foot, dark-dayed,...

War Nearer Home!

Across our planet earth there bleed the wounds of war, With livelihoods destroyed and cherished homes no  more; The people flee, abused and scarred and travelling far, Poor refugees.   Across our planet earth the wounds of war go deep With generations taught...

Leavings

And if, as autumn deepens and darkens I feel the pain of falling leaves, and stems that break in storms and trouble and dissolution and distress and then the softness of deep shadows folding, folding around my soul and spirit, around my lips so sweet, like a swoon, or...

Batter my heart!

  Batter my heart, three-personed God, for you As yet but knock, breathe, shine, and seek to mend; That I may rise and stand, o’erthrow me and bend Your force to break, blow, burn, and make me new. I, like an usurped town to another due, Labour to admit you, but...

The Inner Storm

I am a ghost  who walks alone. Beyond my yard are high stone walls. I walk and move and speak with calm. But let me tell you this my friends; Beneath the smile, the wave, the nod There screams an inner storm. It roars and wails and tears its hair. It pours in torrents...

Last Scene

This is my play's last scene, here heavens appoint My pilgrimages last mile; and my race Idly, yet quickly run, hath this last pace, My spans last inch, my minutes latest point, And gluttonous death, will instantly un-joint My body, and my soul, and I shall sleep a...

Wheels or Feet?

London walking to work? Unthinkable. The Wheel is the rock on which London stands. And moves. Jesus is not remembered For wheels. Sandals, hooves and boats Fixed his pace; the Steady, mindful steps Necessary when Setting one's face Towards Jerusalem.   Bruce...

True Love

Marry those loves, which in youth scattered be On Fame, Wit, Hopes (false mistresses) to thee. Churches are best for Prayer, that have least light: To see God only, I go out of sight: And to scape stormy days, I choose An Everlasting night. John Donne (1572-1631),...

Sabbath Renewal

The clearing rests in song and shade. It is a creature made By old light held in soil and leaf, By human joy and grief, By human work, Fidelity of sight and stroke, By rain, by water on The parent stone. We join our work to Heaven's gift, Our hope to what is left,...

Tree-lighted!

How will the legend of the age of trees Feel, when the last tree falls in England? When the concrete spreads and the town conquers The country’s heart; when contraceptive Tarmac’s laid where farm has faded, Tramline flows where slept a hamlet, And shop-fronts, blazing...

Good Night

Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Though wise men at their end know dark is right, Because their words had forked no lightning they Do not go gentle into that good night....

Faith-shaping Poets

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Our Father: Hallowed on Earth as in Heaven

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Thank you, Lord

Thank you, Lord

… if all the world Should in a pet of temperance feed on pulse, Drink the clear stream and nothing wear but freize, The all-giver would be unthanked, would be unpraised, Not half his riches known, and yet despised; And we should serve him as a grudging master, As a...

The Bible: Bestowed Word of God

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Jesus Christ: Crucified God in Person

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a gambler who won

a gambler who won

And, sitting down, they watched him there, The soldiers did; There, while they played with dice, And, sitting down, they watched him there, The soldiers did; There, while they played with dice, He made his sacrifice, And died upon the cross to rid God’s world of sin....

Humankind: Sinful, Rebellious and Faithless

Traffickers in words

Traffickers in words

A brother came to Abba Theodore and spent three days begging him to say a word to him, but without getting a single reply. So, he went away aggrieved. Then the old man’s disciple asked him: ‘Abba, why did you not say a word to him? See how he has gone away aggrieved?’...

Little boxes on the hillside

Little boxes on the hillside

Little boxes on the hillside… And they’re all made out of ticky tacky And they all look just the same. Malvina Reynolds (1900 – 78), Little Boxes, 1962 song about tract houses in San Francisco.

Getting and spending

Getting and spending

We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon! The world is too much with us; late and soon, Getting and spending we lay waste our powers. William Wordsworth (1770-1850).

Worthless fame

Worthless fame

 No not to us, O Lord! The praise or glory be Of any deed or word; For in thy judgement lies To crown or bring to nought All knowledge or device That man has reached or wrought. And we confess our blame – How all too high we hold That noise which men call fame, That...

The Grace of God: Justifying and Converting

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View me Lord, a work of thine

View me Lord, a work of thine

  In thy word, Lord, is my trust, To thy mercies fast I fly; Though I am but clay and dust, Yet thy grace can lift me high. View me Lord, a work of thine: Shall I then lie drowned in night? Might thy grace in me but shine, I should seem made all of light…....

Christ-likeness: Progressive Christian Living

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Let the voice of conscience be heard

Let the voice of conscience be heard

Strange fondness of the human heart, Enamoured of its harm! Strange world, that costs it so much smart, And still has power to charm.   Whence has the world her magic power? Why deem we Death a foe? Recoil from weary life’s best hour, And covet longer woe?  ...

Holy Spirit: in Christian Experience

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Setting others free

Setting others free

Drained is love in making full; Bound in setting others free; Poor in making many rich; Weak in giving power to be.   W.H. Vanstone (1923-99), Love’s Endeavour, Love’s Expense.

Believers: Assured, Called and Prayerful

Crippled soul, let it be so

Crippled soul, let it be so

… ‘Crippled soul,’ do you say? Looking at him from the mind’s height; ‘limping through life on his prayers. There are other people in the world sitting at table contented, though the broken body and the shed blood are not on the menu’ ‘let it be so,’ I say. ‘Amen and...

Need a Window?

Need a Window?

In darkness the poet needs a window 'You speak as though No sunlight ever surprised the mind Groping on its cloudy path.' 'Sunlight's a thing that needs a window Before it enters a dark room. Windows don't happen.' So two old poets, Hunched at their beer in the low...

The dream is gone

The dream is gone

… When I was a child, I caught a fleeting glimpse Out of the corner of my eye. I turned to look but it was gone. I cannot put my finger on it now. The child is grown; the dream is gone. I have become comfortably numb.   Pink Floyd, 1979 in the context of the pop...

Twisted Religion

Twisted Religion

I have pretended long, in loyalty. I had a childhood hurt for five harsh years, I let it wound my good fragility And over decades I've shed many tears And sometimes wished that I were wholly free Of faith because it was to me all fears,   Unhappiness and, yes,...

The Church: Provisional but Necessary

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Bishops?

Bishops?

I admire the Bishops of the Church of England No man can be a Bishop of the Church of England And a fool. A man can be a Bishop of the Church of England And a knave. But Fortunately Few if any of the Bishops of the Church of England Are men of ill will. They do their...

The Mission of God

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Good and bad fences

Good and bad fences

My apple trees will never get across And eat the cones under his pines, I tell him. He only says, ‘Good fences make good neighbours.’   Robert Frost (1874-1963), Mending Wall, 1914.

Moral Justice: a Vision of God’s Kingdom

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Glory: Now and Then, Here and There

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This world of our happiness

This world of our happiness

Not in Utopia – subterranean fields – Or some secreted island, Heaven knows where! But in the very world, which is the world Of all of us – the place where, in the end, We find our happiness, or not at all.   William Wordsworth (1770-1850), The...