Her Children Shall Rise up

There was a time,
When the heart of your husband,
was glad in you,
There was a time,
When your watchful love
Was red ruby precious,

Red like the long apple peel,
That cascaded, helter-skelter,
From the knife in your hand,
Onto the tongue in my mouth,
And your smile at this stolen pleasure,
This shared moment,
Made my apish turn-up lips,
Imitate your impish ones,

Even your scraps were sweet,
Discreet,
A moment for me, alone,
And you made us all feel like that,
In the generosity of
Your selective, selfless love,


And,
Intoxicated with the intimate,
Intricate sweet-sour memories,

Your children Shall rise up,
And call you blessed

There was a time,
When you opened your arms to the needy,
When Your deeds declared,
Your heart-held hopes,
Of love for all,
The lamp of it,
Burned a deep, luminous cavern,
Seared into the hours of the night,
A hollow of light,
Within the darkened fog
Of my sunken expectations,
Your deeds raised the game,
And I praise your name,

And,
Upheld by hopeful crutches,
Inspired by your deeds,
Heavy with light touches,

Your Children Shall Rise up,
And call you blessed,


There was a time,
When, though fear could be said,
In part,
To define you,
Your frightless love,
Laughed without fear of the future,
And the summer of my youth,
Held no fear of winter,
For the faith-full sun,
Could not be diminished by,
Deepest chill, then
Nor death now,

And,
Though fear sometimes defines them,
As love  revives and faith refines them,

Your Children shall Rise up,
And call you blessed,


There was a time,
When your words of wisdom
Soared heights over head,
And, now you are dead,
I wish I could recall them,
Like loves ashes fell,
You had sashes to sell,
But I would not buy them,
I could have been like you,
Clothed in strength,
Dignified in all seasons,
Though tempest comes
And drought depletes,
Energetic and strong,

We rise in the streets
And call you blessed

Charm is deceptive, and beauty does not last,
But a woman who fears the Lord ,
Will be greatly praised,

And so we rise up,
And call you blessed.



(Proverbs 31:10-31)

The uninhabitable planet and the loneliest Astronaut

Planet, you are not so beautiful,
Not such a hospitable environment,
That I may acclimatise,
No green valleys, lush with twisting conversation,
Swathes of ice cold charm,
Vapours of vanity,
Wisps of interest,

Your terrain is foreboding,
Often cruel,

And yet there is Lichen,
There is Algae,
There are microbes of humanity.

There are peaks to climb,
Crevices in which to delve,
Succulent textures of foreign flesh,
There are boulders that may be touched,
Held,
felt.


From here in outer-space,
To this wondering satellite,
It looks
To me
Like Life.
And it is alien to me.


And passing by at warp speed,
On a course across the stars,
To nowhere in particular,
To lonely, drunken bars,

Your planet generates
A strange gravity,
It is a simple matter of science,
And fact.
You exist,
And it has been so long,
Since my feet touched the ground
And like a tractor beam,
It pulls me in,

And I am in orbit,
Despite my efforts,
To regain control of my craft.

And round and round we go,
The uninhabitable planet
And the loneliest Astronaut,
Who ought to know better,
And unable to disembark,
Or disengage,
I will orbit you
And planets like you,
Forever.

Bom, bom, bom,
A satellite of Love

A Weird Place

I'm in a weird place right now
I have been here for quite a while
I'm in a weird place, somehow
A vacant stare with a vacant smile,

I'm in a weird place right now
I will be here some time
'Till all the power goes down
And the clocks forget to chime,

I'm in a weird place right now,
Give me a little time to sow this
Word-Seed into your mind,
I will be here until further notice,

I'm in a weird place right now,
Tell all friends and imaginary lovers,
That I'm away on fairy business,
When, really, I can't pull back the covers,

I'm in a weird place right now,
Where all is posture and pretence,
Where world war three's upon us,
And we can't see beyond our fence,

I'm in a weird place right now,
Where everything's disconnected,
I have more friends than I've ever had
But I've never felt so rejected,

I'm in a weird place right now,
I'm stuck here, in the dark,
I'm drowning in the flood,
Contained within the Ark,

I'm in a weird place right now,
A place of resurrection,
A place where conformity,
Equals insurrection.

I'm in a weird place right now,
I'm not sure you can reach me,
I'm stuck inside a wail,
That seems to want to beach me,

I'm in a weird place right now,
Please don't leave me stranded
I keep on trying to rise,
Don't say 'the eagle's landed',

I'm in a weird place right now,
'Broad sword to Dannyboy'
I'm going where Eagles dare,
Wish me 'luck' and wish me joy,

I'm in a weird place right now,
A place of signs and wanders,
I wander off the page...

In vain

You're vain in vain,
You have vanity in your veins,
You're so vain, it's insane,
in vanity insanity reigns,
You're vanity is interplanetary,
So I would go to many pains,
To define your vanity,
But sadly it's so vast ,
that my efforts are in vain,

Your vanity lacks humanity,
It occupies your brain,
You stand out in the street,
Looking for your reflection in each drop of rain,
you're so vain that you would follow each trickle,
Till it runs down the drain,
Like I said before,
Your vanity is insane.

In the main, it's a shame,
How vain you are is a pain,
But when I think of how small you are,
Mostly, it's in vain.

You'll hardly be remembered,
You'll never find your fame,
Amongst the billions who live now,
And the billions before who came,
In a universe expanding
In this multiverse, arcane
To think that this revolves around you,
Matthew Joseph,
It's insane.

The streets of Jerusalem

Hosannas now
Crucify then
the crowd will chant
in streets when
The king proceeds...
in front of them
on the streets
of Jerusalem

 And Palms will fall
like tears soon will
and wills will break
and blood will spill
and the face will fall
that made all of them
down in the dust, of the streets
of Jerusalem


Lauded now,
but bloodied then,
amidst the cheers
and jeers of men
the donkey now
will carry him
but he will carry
the cross and them
and drag the heavy weight of sin
out through the streets
of Jerusalem
And make a spectacle of sin
On the streets
Of Jerusalem


Hosanna to
The king on high
Hosanna to the heir
Of David's line
He's come to rule,
He's come to die
He's come to lay down
His life for them
Down on the streets
of Jerusalem
 

Signpost for the lost and found

And there it was
For all to see
The glory of
Your majesty,
The cross of wood
There in the ground
The signpost for
The lost and found,

Lifted high
For all to see
Your power
 And humility,
We look on you
In all your pain,
To live is Christ,
To die is gain,

Lifted up
For a little while,
The bearer of
All that's vile,
We look upon
Our sin and live
Humbled by
The life you give

Laid real low,
For a shorter time,
Dulled back then,
But now you shine,
You suffered then,
You drank the cup
But now you're high
And lifted up,

And here it is
For all to see
The glory of
Your majesty,
The empty cross
There in the ground
The signpost for
The lost and found,

The Mother of memories

It is Mothers day tomorrow, and that is usually a bit of a kick in the teeth.

You see, as many of my readers are well aware, my mother died back in 2005. That was hard to deal with. really hard. She was 56 and I was 32.

 I never took for granted that my mother would have an especially long life but I didn't see that coming. It was 3 months from her diagnosis (of Primary Liver cancer) to her death. Life went on (I had a two year old son), and shortly after my mother's death our second child was conceived. But though life went on, so did the grief, in an unfolding revelation of its depths. Once the initial shock wore off (and with it a strange kind of euphoria..no, really!) it seemed to snowball for about 2 years.

Sometimes it would hit me so hard out of the blue that I would collapse on my knees howling in anguish. The severing of that tie was (and to a lesser extent still is) the most powerful emotion I have ever undergone. To the extent that the arrival of an offspring cannot hold a candle to its rawness.

But even then, Mothers day was not especially hard. You see, what did the grief of no Mum on mothers day (or Christmas, or birthdays) really add? Not an iota. Every day was filled with grief and loss. It was neither worse, nor better. It was just another day without her.

And then My wife ended our 15 year relationship. We have been separated for 5 years now. Initially (in the first year) I don't think mothers day wasn't even acknowledged. But in all the subsequent years, after it dawned on me that I would have to buy her presents and cards on behalf of the kids, it bought into my life a rather darker experience of that day. To say I resented it would be a bit of an understatement.

It didn't help that I felt like the victim in our split. Of course, like the good Christian I am (hah) I had forgiven her.....but the day in question let me know just how superficial that was.

I bore it, I think, rather gracefully. I could not, after all, deny my kids their enjoyment. And, I reasoned, she wasn't a bad mother (little matter of our divorce aside). But I couldn't celebrate it myself. Often I found myself at home, alone, my mother dead and and my wife, an ex. Women seem to leave. That is how it is, for me.

And in time, as predicted by so many my grief began to abate, both for my Mother and my marriage.

This is the first year, that I have wanted to actively celebrate Mothers day. God has been doing some deep work in me, in addressing my bitterness and the regret that consumed me. He is freeing me from a whole lot of that stuff and I want to love again. I do not mean romance, I mean love. So this year when I bought my ex her gift and card, although there is no real change to the gift, there has been a change in the giving. A resentment free gift to the fantastic mother of my children. Although she doesn't know it, the lack of resentment is the bigger gift, and it will go on giving all year, not just on mothers day.

And love is the way of keeping my Mother alive.

You see, as time passes and the pain lessens, so do the memories. The week after she died, I could have described those last 3 months to you in detail. I could have told you the clothes that they buried her in. But no longer. The more distance between us increases, the more my memories hang on moments, polarised moments, and I realise that I am losing her all the time. I can no longer recall so much detail. And the detail seems all the more precious for its elusiveness. Time is taking her.

But then I remember those moments and there are reasons why they have lasted. They are moments that contain the essence of her. And the essence will not fade easily, it's fragrance soaking in to the fabric of my soul. She taught me throughout a lifetime, however short, who she was and what she believed in.

And my Mum was a perpetual student. She never stopped learning. It amazed me, how she transformed as she aged. Like a flower unfolding to the seasons sun. She was on a journey with God and she trusted him implicitly.

I think maybe because she had some terrible experiences of the abuse of her trust it caused her to trust her Heavenly Father so much more. She seemed to me, often naïve. She was so absolute, at times, that it rocked my cynicism. For her 'God said it and that settled it'. To my shame, in my crueller moments I almost mocked her for it, in my head.

But now, as I continue on my own journey through pain, I see that her simple trust in the goodness of God, and the command to live a life of love, is the most valuable lesson of all.

And, like the parable of the unforgiving servant, I find that who has been forgiven much, loves much. And if you Love much, it deepens your own experience of love. I have finally started to learn that lesson.

I know Mothers day is hard for some of us but, I urge you, celebrate the good, not because of what your experience is but because it seems to make good things flourish. When we withhold our love it seems to kill everything good. When we water liberally what is good, or what should be good with love and respect, they spring  into life around us.

Mothering is all about nurturing. We can learn an awful lot from that. Put bitterness aside and be the change you want to see.