Tag: death

See the face, how watercolour flies

The gravity  and grace of those who’ve  died
Make us pause and take a deeper breath
The distant look of  almost closed , dear eyes

Now the nerves and muscles do not try
Their life has gone and they are on the path
The gravity  and grace of those who’ve  died

The larynx closes. we  hear no  more cries
Nor  yet is there any mourners’ wrath
See distant look in  almost closed , dark eyes

Space and peace and caring are allies
Somehow we shall know what is the best
The gravity  and grace of those who’ve  died

See the face, how watercolour flies
Seized is the hand  when put to its new task
Catch his look ,his  almost shuttered eyes

No longer to face challenges and risks
No longer do the fingers urge his wrist
The grace of those who have just  gone  survives
The   holy  soul ,the weeping of mine eyes

Is there sacredness in this world now?

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We sense the sacred in these peaceful walls
Yet men have died in places that appal
Women too and children then unborn
Fell into cold dark earth in lands forlorn

As our weapons grow, our hearts are hard
The people live in Gaza behind bars
The water all polluted as taps drip
Is this war or is it vengeance fit?

In Britain, it’s the poor who lose the war
As it was when Jesus Mary bore
Yet here are clerics blessing marching bands
A military show for all the land

The genocide in Europe of the Jews
The self destructive actions of the proud
The fields of France filled sick with blood and bone
Who are we to cast judgemental stones?

The War’s not over when the fighting stops
The soldiers and the tortured suffer shock
The widows and the parents all bereaved.
The unborn children hover in unease

We let the prisoners out from camps of death
But who would take them in or take their path?
The injuries will travel down the years
As still we fight and still we live in fear

It’s Europe’s grasp and greed which was the cause
Of death in Gaza, Syria, in long wars
Yet we judge we are more civilised
When we self defend with bitter lies

Being alive unchosen may be worse

If you think of Auschwitz think of this

Your children will not die by means of gas

All of us will walk that final path

But we have lived our lives so on we pass

The Jews of Europe killed without a word.

The death of God no longer feels absurd

What they might have given forever lost.

Prescription murder,there will be a cost.

As we walk around in obscene dress

The rational and objective caused this mess

Be thankful that our God did not choose us.

Yet being unchosen and alive is worse.

Walking on forever,so we think

Everyday we walk upon our path

Where did it start, who told us to do this

Thinking life’s forever, blind to death.

We must keep moving whilst we have our breath.

Somewhere on the way we learn to kiss

Everyday we walk on the same path

We all travel to the same address.

Imagined heaven, who can can bear the bliss?

Thinking life’s forever,blind to death

Who made demons, full of ancient wrath?

We know the target, we never think we’ll miss.

Everyday we walk on the same path

Forgetting that in Eden snakes did hiss

The wanderers of the world cannot desist.

All we do not want, we must resist

Everyday we follow our own paths

We think this life’s forever blind to death

Oh,my dear sister what can you see ?

She’d never seem rainwater deeper than eyes
Mystery undisguised.
Round the big puddle she ran and ran;
Too much for her dolly’s pan.
By reflections of trees she was hypnotised.
Curiousity’s often so wise
Oh,my dear sister what see you there?
I hope it’s a vision fair.
What are these ships and the tugs and the tide
Where are the sailors who died?
This is an ocean and I’m in my boat
Come sisters dear,let us float.
We’ll never see daddy again, ‘cos he’s here
And down her face travelled one tear.
I see him afar off, he’s meeting the Lord
There’s the archangel with his sharp sword.
We cannot follow,no, we must go back
We each must stay on our own track.
Three little children with long  golden hair
On this road going to where?
Once three small sisters ,but now only two;
Eyes of one green, the other’s blue.
By the park gate by a pool of sea rain
We shall be three again.
One in a pushchair and one gripping tight.
I push my dear sisters into the light.
Keep hold of the handle and never let go
I loved my  sisters so.
Keep hold of my hands as Dad crosses the sea.
Don’t hope for what cannot be.
I told her it’s only a rainwater pool,
Held in God’s hand like a jewel.
But she saw the patterns and she saw the tides
Which all human beings must ride.
For nothing is “only” and nothing is “just”.
All we can live by is trust

Down the other side of the mountain

From the high peak of the middle years

We walk downwards slowly but it’s clear.

We lose our parents siblings other kin

Who will now agree we are born to win?

Our bodies stiffen while we’re yet alive

Who will die,atone,does God decide?

From the man he takes the caring wife

The heart itself will harden in the strife

Last Man standing is a bag of bones

In his grave the king decays alone.

A tin of sardines

Ond day the evil, wicked witch caught a great s hoal of sardines in her net.The silvery little fish were taken away to a big factory.They were washed free from saltwater and packed tightly into little tins .I expect you have heard someone say.It was so crowded on the train,I felt like a  sardine.What was worse still  was that the sardines were covered in tomato sauce and that is evil because tomatoes do not grow under the sea or even in ponds and lakes.If you had seen the sardines lying side by side with their eyes gazing blankly at you,you might have had a bad dream…Finally the tins were sealed and a  small key was fastened to the outside to enable people to open the tin and gobble up the sardines on a slice of  lovely thick toast covered in the very best butter available.What a fate for these beautiful fish to be lying in tins on a shelf in the supermarket,never to swim in the sea again.To all  appearances they were dead and were preserved only be special techniques developed by the food industry.?Have you ever wondered why milk never goes sour and bread stays useable for a week or more?Well, later on we may learn more about why this is but now I’d like you to think about all the sardines lying in those little flat tins and ask yourself whether you’d like that to be the end of your life..Unless you are very odd I imagine it’s a fate worse than death to you and so it was to these little sardines   snatched from the sea where they were free to frolic all day long darting in and out of the strange eery plants that grow on the ocean bed far away from wars and politics and dread.