Poems

The Sacredness of Secularity

I cannot go to the Creator,
-mine-
unless I steep my body
in Creation.

Let’s hear it now, once more
for ‘secular’,-
so long derided by the We
who stood so solemnly in
‘sacred’
spaces / places;

This man turned
more than tables on his
enemies,
Turned the world
on its head, others on their heel. …

We want the fruits
but will we plant the Tree?
We seek
Compassion,

‘Lord’
is the word we use,-
have used this long time past:
‘Lord’ has these other words
that speak to us today;

The Rally Cry it is,
‘So that…’-
just those two words
that herald-waken me
-to what has gone before
-to what must follow on:

Who will hear the Music?
Who will proclaim
The Lamb?
Who will give to Him
the Honour

The Jubilee is Jesus, -Now.
For neither Time nor Space,
-the Then or There or Yesteryear-
affect the story of what IS,
is near, is here.

If God had sent an Angel, not a SON,-
where would we find a crib,
or touch a cross?
Where would the blood have been,
or piece of bread?

‘God’ and ‘All’,
two so-close words
yet still so far apart-
a tension there,

He Owns-
Who owns?-
He owns
this work of His,
this dream He dreamt of me

It’s They, not I
that are the ‘sinners’,
the ‘unjust’-
not right in their relationships-
but not me…