Saturday, June 16, 2018

Iona

Let your word be as fire to my heart,
Fire to my bones.
Let your word rinse clean my soul
And restore my spirit,
Give wings to my breath
And iron to my will.
Let my feeble lips proclaim it
And my feeble fingers write it.
Let it burn through the world a restoring flame,
Till all creation is renewed.

For the light shines in the darkness
And the darkness has not overcome it.
It shines still.
Cowardice and ignorance,
The preference for the easy way,
Have not overcome it. 
It shines still.

Murder and cruelty,
Pillage and ferocity
The careless violence of violent men,
Blood shed upon blood
Have not overcome it.
It shines still.

The seduction of plenty,
The greed of our fear,
The applause of men
And the lure of cheap power
Have not overcome it.
It shines still.
And the prayers of the ages are a river of deep grace.

They did not come walking on water.
They came as men come
In a coracle, a boat:
Riding the waves into history.
Flesh and blood, flesh and blood,
And lamps for God to burn in,
Carrying, in their smallness,
The weight of all the Word.

They came in sorrow and penitence
And found work that was worthy of their hands.
They came in long self-doubting
And built in solid rock.
They came through storm and passion
And brought eternal peace.

Let us be as they were,
Quivering with truth
Alight with love
Welded to Christ by fire
In a bond that cannot be broken.

Let us be as they were
The dead reborn alive
Seeking no kingdom of our own
In love with our King forever.

Let us be as they were
Holding no weapons in our hands
Learning to be crucified
In little daily things
So that we might love forever.


Let us enter the furnace of God’s love.

Monday, June 11, 2018

At Smethstow

I said my prayers today
Where coppered trees bend low
Above the clear brown stream:
This beauty I can know.

I saw my Saviour’s love
In every tender flower:
Caressing every leaf,
Sustaining hour by hour.

The blackbird sang his praise
In notes so pure and clear.
So teach my heart to sing
To him I hold most dear.

And, on the shadowed path
Midst green and growing things,
I worshipped in quiet awe;
My soul, like swans, had wings.