Between sea and mountains,
caught by love for both.
Though a stranger,
this joy and serenity,
beyond, before humanity.
Words are lost,
distraction always.
You are where you are meant to be.
Monday, 31 December 2007
Moonlight
Night, bright street light
hides the star's shine.
Cool, blue moonlight,
your strangeness is divine.
Silence draws to midnight.
Rest these silent hours.
Thoughts crowding through night
and sleeplessness devours.
Clock ticks onwards,
the morning sun will rise.
Vision seen beyond words,
startling my eyes.
hides the star's shine.
Cool, blue moonlight,
your strangeness is divine.
Silence draws to midnight.
Rest these silent hours.
Thoughts crowding through night
and sleeplessness devours.
Clock ticks onwards,
the morning sun will rise.
Vision seen beyond words,
startling my eyes.
Sunday, 30 December 2007
Mum
When I heard the news
I buckled at the knees
I saw you yesterday
Smiling bright as I turned away
When I saw you smile at me
Didn't know it was the last time
Smiling through a veil I couldn't see
Full of grace and heavenly
Phoned you just last night
Asked how to make gravy
Today I see the loaves of bread
Made specially for me
Wanted you to know
The gravy turned out fine
Wanted you to know
The bread tasted divine
I wrote this last year for my mum who died in November 2000. The last time I saw her was when my Dad took her Communion at the nursing home (he was a Special Minister). Afterwards I felt something I can't describe, a distance between us, as though she were already beyond this world. I didn't understand until afterwards, early the next morning when I heard she had died. I think what I felt was the grace of God perfected in another human at that moment, after receiving the body of Christ. It was a foretaste of heaven, and despite the pain I felt later, it was so very, very good. I have felt the exact opposite as well, but that is another story.
I buckled at the knees
I saw you yesterday
Smiling bright as I turned away
When I saw you smile at me
Didn't know it was the last time
Smiling through a veil I couldn't see
Full of grace and heavenly
Phoned you just last night
Asked how to make gravy
Today I see the loaves of bread
Made specially for me
Wanted you to know
The gravy turned out fine
Wanted you to know
The bread tasted divine
I wrote this last year for my mum who died in November 2000. The last time I saw her was when my Dad took her Communion at the nursing home (he was a Special Minister). Afterwards I felt something I can't describe, a distance between us, as though she were already beyond this world. I didn't understand until afterwards, early the next morning when I heard she had died. I think what I felt was the grace of God perfected in another human at that moment, after receiving the body of Christ. It was a foretaste of heaven, and despite the pain I felt later, it was so very, very good. I have felt the exact opposite as well, but that is another story.
Imperium
You say you cherish freedom,
and want to spread it all abroad.
You say you come in peace,
but you only bring the sword.
You speak of liberty for all,
then you take it all away.
You say you come to bring the light,
then make darkness of the day.
You torture, rape and murder,
but it's something you deplore.
You say you're fighting terror,
when terror is your core.
You say you want a better world.
Your lies are turning sour.
You say you stand for justice,
but what you really want is power.
and want to spread it all abroad.
You say you come in peace,
but you only bring the sword.
You speak of liberty for all,
then you take it all away.
You say you come to bring the light,
then make darkness of the day.
You torture, rape and murder,
but it's something you deplore.
You say you're fighting terror,
when terror is your core.
You say you want a better world.
Your lies are turning sour.
You say you stand for justice,
but what you really want is power.
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