Low Sunday?

Low Sunday?

Often I try to analyse the quality of its silences. Is this where God hides from my searching?…   These are the hard ribs of a body that our prayers have failed to animate. Shadows advance from their corners to take possession of places the light held for...
In the Night

In the Night

‘Honest Doubt’? You say, but with no touch of scorn,          Sweet-hearted, you, whose light-blue eyes          Are tender over drowning flies, You tell me, doubt is Devil-born. I know not: one indeed I knew          In many a subtle question versed,...
Darkness Comes

Darkness Comes

What isolates me here in frozen clay But that same tidal shock which fell First upon England in your day? Betrayal of the truth is no new thing Within the fellowship of Christ, yet new Was the cold glare whence alien ripples flashed….   The darkness comes...
The Second Coming

The Second Coming

Surely some revelation is at hand; Surely the Second Coming is at hand. The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert A shape with lion body and the head of a man, A gaze blank...
Holy Saturday

Holy Saturday

Not darkness but twilight in which even the best of minds must make its way now. And slowly the questions occur, vague but formidable for all that. We pass our hands over their surface like blind men, feeling for the mechanism that will swing them aside. They yield,...