Wreck

Wreck me,
Undo me,
Unravel my soul,
Spill my heart on your altar,
Finish the job,
I asked you to start,
Before walking away,

I want to fall on this rock,
Be broken on it,
Like a thrushes anvil,
Smash me open,
Pick out the meat,
Spit out the shell,
My defenses are killing me,
This fortress is my prison,
Bust me out,
Break me up,
Let me fall
On this rock,
Like I will fall at your feet
Abandoning all hope
There is no escape
There are no escapes

Fall On the founding stone
Before it caps me

Wreck me
Ruin me
Rule me
Ravage me

Because of your Kindness
Because of my blindness

Wreck me
With your love
Ruin me
With your grace
Spoil me
So no other will lure my heart

Wreck me
Lead me to repentance
With your kindness

I see the saviours face
Drenched in my spit
And my mouth has run dry

I see the saviours cheeks 
Bruised from my repeated blows
Turning
Is the only option
For he and I
I saw myself
In the mirror of his eye
And he wrecked me

My hand
Unclenches
And I can hit no more

I am finished
So finish me
I pray

Foundations

Before the foundation of the world,
Three foundless foundations
Were laid,

The Father;
who saw all, in his infinite love,
And in his unflinching wisdom and kindness, called it good,
And chose us, In love

The Spirit of Holiness;
Who brooded over the face of it all,
Who brewed with wild, dangerous and playful creativity,
And in the making, reached from one side of eternity to the other in his comforting embrace.

The Son;
The lamb laid down before a single brick of the universe ,
The laid bare arm of God, The sleeve rolled up; the offering,
The cornerstone.

Now build with us,
Says Love,
What will remain

Let Down

Let down,
Left to drown,
Left at the altar in your wedding gown,
Left looking up on the long way down,
You looked long for a smile in sea of strange faces,
But you only saw a frown,
That boat never came and no one saw you drown,
Floating like a bedraggled angel in your ivory gown,
Left to drown,
Let down.

I am Grateful

For the times when time is still as a rock

For the times when I stop clocking the watch,

Or watching the clock,

For the times when I am the boat,

And time is the dock,

For the stillness,

I am grateful,

For the relief that comes after pain,

And for the pain,

They're one and the same,

Two roads converging to run as one lane,

And for the Journey,
I am grateful,

For loyalties and abuses of trust,

Betrayals and friendships are just,

A refining of gold from dust,

The sifting process does what it must,

For the lessons in true value,

I am grateful,

For all the saints that have gone before,

For all the teachers who held open the door,

For those who have scraped my remains from the floor,

I'd be nothing without you, I am utterly sure,

For the comfort of unaware Angels,

I thank you

For the divine and loving thread

From before conception, till long after I'm dead,

To that bridegroom eternally wed,

When mountains have sunk let it be said

We bled,

Together.

For you,

I'm eternally grateful

The death of a poet

Listening to the lady on Radio four,
The continuity announcer,
Announcing a discontinuity,
Seamus Heaney, she said,
'Who recently died'.

Something in the way she spoke those words,
The stress and emphasis, slightly obtuse,
Made it sound,
Like yet another achievement,
For the great man of words,
Like He had picked up,
Yet another award,
Yet another prize winning poem.
Like it was simply the last thing to do,
On his to do list.

And it strikes me that this, in itself, is inherently poetic,
Leaving them hanging, like that.
That death, for a poet, is a stepping off,
Of the final page,
A dot, dot, dot,
If you will.
footprints trail,
Just occasionally it is a precise and full, stop.

I heard a man once say,
In a church building,
stripped of images,
and full of words,
That we are Gods poem.

Words into flesh,
and back to words
I like to think, Dear Seamus,
that he had just finished a verse...