catholic, Christian Science, Poems, Uncategorized

Paisley Abbey New Minister Appointment August 2021

A poem for the Installation of the New Minister Elspeth McKay.

The first Abess in Cloister´s grove, forcing change as Love demands

The poisoned chalice passed in sight, yet Love demands she does not drink.

A higher view where Angels dwell is upon her shoulders bright

No politics nor Kirk Board stern can stop unfolding Love.

Ancient stones do quake and fall, maternal Love doth take it´s place

Altars made of Stone fall down for Love is here.

Stones adorned by men, ancient saints bowed down to Love and it´s Man of Sorrows

The day demands woman goes forth to slay Goliath and put to rest honoured time traditions.

Love comes and rests with her own and all is still, where Love is found

Rainbows of Light as Love descends, the snake is found beneath her feet

Appoints the best.

Elspeth comes and Love draws near. Surely Divine Love is best seen in the heart of a woman

and Love is reflected in Love.

Christian Science, Poems, Uncategorized

Snow in Paisley December 2020

And comes a pure white blanket laid

around the river Cart

Across the darkened thoughts of man

a Love which does impart

And o´er the bogs and swamps there´s ice

up to the Abbey door

A voice says “Man with all your cares

be still for just an hour”

The darkened views of waning health,

exchanged for winter cheer

The snow reflects a gentle calm

upon the town so dear

And on the braes the deer are seen

walking proudly by

For no man can touch their safety now

upon their mountain high

Upon the tombs of rested men

lies layers of icy sense

Reflecting that the One great Mind

preserves their innocence

Christian Science, Kilbirnie / North Ayrshire, Poems, Uncategorized

Calling Freedom – A Poem for Scottish Independence

Notice how strongly the fire begins to burn, fed by the air of Freedom
Who has ever fought against our Freedom and won?
See how it burns away bad opinions, and the water of our burns flood
For our betterment, our blood and our places, the water rises.

See the fire and water rise
Hear the winds of our mountains roar
See how they come to take their own, calling for us to stay faithful
Do not stem the water or extinguish the fire
Leave our land’s trees and its streams and it´s fires
To call Freedom, the voice carried in the wind

The courageous gun and sword laid down before our enemies
Shining and moving in museums of a time long ago
Quaking and shaking of cannons in castles
Water and fire is what defends us now, ancestral whispers, Fed by Freedom´s breath of air

See the fire and water rise
Hear the winds of our mountains roar
See how they come, to take their own, calling for us to stay faithful
Do not stem the water or extinguish the fire
Let our land’s trees and its streams and it´s fires, be,
To call Freedom, the voice carried in the wind

Christian Science, Kilbirnie / North Ayrshire, Poems

The Hawthorn – Kilbirnie auld cemetery poem

Daniel 2: 21

Upon the leaf of hawthorn green appears a drop of dew, with spiders webs reflecting frost upon the bush´s hue.

And comes an Angel staff in hand, reflected in the drop, where Lord and Lady Crawford lie, with sticks and lollipops.

As the sun does take a turn, the whited ground turns green, the Angel walks towards the gate and light shines in between.

And as the dew dries for the day, a sign that autumn comes, as well as days where dew will stay till sunset has begun.

And as the Angel´s shadow moves along the back kirk wall, acid rain from steel work days the people do recall.

Her sandals bare, they leave a trace of markings in the clay, where snowdrops rise beneath her feet on snowy winter days.

And to the gate she slowly walks, her staff upon the ground, with every turn a splash of white can surely here be found.

By the sign of service times, a smaller crack appears, a line upon an ageing brow brings a grandson´s fears.

And as she leaves, our minds are changed but not filled up with fear, her coming speaks of life more meek with passing of the years.

Christian Science, Kilbirnie / North Ayrshire, Poems

#Poem For Our American Cousins

Romans 8:17

In every year thats passes by, there’s friends from overseas, visiting a little town with dreams of family.

Perhaps Place castle some will say, or found in Walker Hall, perhaps a line of great descent, behind Tianna Falls.

Walking streets which long since gone, with hopes of names or face, wearily they pace around to find the slightest trace.

And when we ask about the task, the answer’s never clear, identity or Grandpa’s home or memories they hold dear.

Still there is a waiting wealth, which passed through every line, a joyful welcome and a smile to all who take the time.

And legacies of golden bowls surrendered long ago, exchanged for joy preserved in time, for future folk to know.

Heirs of joy, and stewardship still, which lasts beyond our peers, kindness, smiles remembered still throughout the passing years.

If today a search does come to wanton lonely minds, think not of watches or old clocks to search for back in time.

Instead to know their sense of joy, is shared today by all, a random act of kindness do, instead of searching halls.

For welcome, joy and happiness was theirs and ours today, there is no forgetting acts of Love which fall on minds today.

Make your mark for future lines, by random acts of good, remembered more by other folk than silver, gold or wood.

Christian Science, Kilbirnie / North Ayrshire, Poems, Uncategorized

Rain at Jock’s Burn, Kibirnie

(John 5: The Pool of Bethesda)

An angel clad in white winged robes with hands upon the pool

A surge of water gushes forth, clear, transparent, cool

Children watch upon the bridge with raincoats, darkened caps

My mother calls me not to fear, the bridge’s missing slats

Like needles dropping in the stream, rain pierces to the ground

Raising thoughts in Children’ s minds with every plopping sound

And as the Angel, golf course walks, the clouds clear with his step

Revealing brighter thoughts for man with every place he treads

By Crawfurd’s castle, blue skies clear and children move away

Their raincoats filled with water still seem strange in Summer’s days

Shadows clear upon the fields and hope again appears

Within the showers, sunny glades where man has nought to fear

Long after Angels hands descend or sun upon Man’s dreams

Still the pool, it gushes forth pushing all upstream

And on the Minds of local men an Angel dares to tread

Stirring healing loving thoughts upon the dying bed.

Christian Science, Poems, Uncategorized

Not a God I know

Confined in brick or iron box is not a God I know, reduced to wafers held with gloves by men at circus shows.

And others claim a Spirit near descends at certain times, usually with silver plate and fortified good wine.

Then some say, a devil comes with pitchfork pointed beard, to chase us all around the streets, like Benny Hill appears.

Then others paint a sad faced man who hangs with blood stained tears, enough to frighten hardened hearts to heighten all their fears.

The God I know is found in Love, in silence, peaceful ways, in the innocence of kids, in kindness every day.

I see him in the daily smiles of acts done chaste and pure, helping with a shopping bag or charity for sure.

In the hospitality of coffee with a friend, sharing every friendly branch where two birds sit and bend.

When other’s thoughts approach your mind with doctrines black and grey, with suits and cars, prosperity, do not be afraid.

For Spirit lives within the realms and hears not earthly praise, reaching to our higher selves with kindness every day.

Not in stone but in the act of passing thoughts of Love, builds the temple in your heart, where thoughts come from above.