Sometimes This

When we started out
You did everything.

When we started out 
I did everything
You said
Carried on the wings of your words,

Now
I seem to have left You behind
And You who are everywhere
Are nowhere to be found,
                                            Wilf June 2015
  
I have to finish this with a comma because although this happens it is not the last word.

A Strange Summer

       It was a strange summer
       We sang our songs to a helpless sun,
       Songs of love and rage,peace and anger;
       Longing and searching.
       Some believed the sun heard,
       But the answer came from somewhere else
       A startling light that revealed the pretensions
       Of the singing sixties,
       But also something deeper.

       That was the beginning
       Of a summer in a summer long ago.

       In the years that have followed
       This summer has become stranger,
       For in its ever growing light
       Eyes that see
       See that
       The God you know is more mysterious
       Than the God you do not know.
                                        
                                                                        WILF June 2015                                                                     

I read Your Theology Book

                       

I read your theology book

It said lots of things about God and people and Jesus.

The writing was all joined up,connected

By neat straight lines,

I understood it,

But I went away and wept.

I read your theology book,

It said lots of things about God and people and Jesus.

There was a great hole through the centre of the pages,

The writing just went round, pretending it wasn’t there.

I understood it,

But I went away lonely.

I read your theology  book ,

It said lots of things about God and people and Jesus

All smeared with your tears and sweat stains

And then mine

I’m not sure I understood

But I went away filled with kindness and wonder

               

                                                                                  WILF 06/03/2015

  

Poem without words

I think I was having a bit of a John Cage moment when I wrote this!It is about human life; from birth to death.Three sections of life infancy youth old age.

Light Filtering Through

                                                Light Filtering Through

Light filtering

Through

Autumn sky and leaves

Through

Cobwebby rain stained windows

Is still

Light

The voice of a friend

Through

The rattle of the market

Through

The haggling of strangers

The voice

Made   sweeter

God’s   breath

Through

You with all your......

Through

You

God’s breath  smelling of you

Is still God’s breath

                                                          Wilf 12/2014

Swan in Moonlight

Birthed of the roaring golden womb,
Alighting on the moon's cool seas
And a swift silent leap to pour
Upon the river close to me.

The swan swam and looked to know
The pearl white light in which she moved and ruled
To me she seemed to be that light embodied 
Winged and white,
Leaving flakes to shimmer on the river
As she passed quietly through.

She was a herald, a mystic sign.

As I looked upon her I saw another river:
All of life cold and dark
With friendship, light embodied,  Swimming through
Defiant.                                                    Wilf 09/2014

Memories

In the stillness of the nursery
Magic midnight hold her breath and smiles 
As cupboard doors creak,
Out tumbles a hoard of little soldiers
Small toys but jumping,twitching grinning silly
Mischief's life dances in the tin and wood and lead.

Peevish prods and pinches
Round and round they wheel
Twisting what is real,"We played this game with you remember,remember how it feels?"
Midnight's magic never ends
Nor do the dancers stop to catch their breath,
Until juice from a darker hour's fruit
Drips upon the spell
And all is well.
The tired soul can breath, healed
And sinking to sleep will rise tomorrow 
As a conqueror.
                                                Wilf 1991