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.
Continue reading “Paisley Abbey New Minister Appointment August 2021”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.
Only with my mirror can I see your Blessed Hand
Never with my mind can I fully understand
Looking indirectly, jewels sparkle in the sand
Through a loving lens, I see there is no reprimand.
Remembering to forget the smaller personal mind
To search Infinitude where lives all mankind
Where Love reigns, where illness can’t reside
And swirls of Love keep flowing in open countryside.
Where acts are free and freedom acts in purest Liberty
No robes of gold nor Eucharist, locked away with iron key
No Abbeys, Monks or lofty towers for the world to see
A Gentle Love does fall upon the Mind of you and me.
Love reflecting Love like mirrors held in gold
And Joy of Joys of giving, without barriers so cold
And stories of Love travelling centuries of old
I open my mind today to let Love unfold.
Perhaps nearby the Walker Hall or up at Jacob´s well
a random act of kindness comes from strangers who can tell?
Perhaps a gentle smile when all is grey and bland
A man in Tesco car park, who gives a helping hand?
The face of God is ne´er seen by looking to the sky
or pleading with an unseen God to ask the question “why”
But in the smaller random acts, of hope and gentle charm
Music springs from little things which keep us from all harm
And if by chance we cannot see the goodness in Schoolwynd
Let us play the Harp we think is somehow left behind
From Cochrane Street to Loadingbank it doesn´t take a while
to offer random kindness acts or give a sincere smile
He does not see the cries and woes of bitter words well meant
He does not know the mental wounds of times much better spent
He knows only Peace and Love and wholeness of our Soul
Far above the human clouds where Man is free to Go
In Glasgow Street or Ladeside Vale, perhaps in Dalry Road
A Mind can freely choose to live in mental sweet abode
Far above the darting arrows, foes and kin at war
There is a place, another Mind for mankind to explore
Found in silence, ne´er in hate, a Harp string sound does come
Taking man to far above from words and human glum
If Angel´s are His thoughts indeed of swirling pools of Love
Let them take us anytime to consciousness above.
In silence comes the lyre harp of goodness Peace and Love
A state of mind but Heaven is, so take yourself above
To where no siblings voices fight or hatred´s idle dreams
Free yourself from earthly ties however fair they seem
Gently on piano keys or,
strung upon the harp,
strummed upon the guitar strings or
words said from the heart,
A colder breeze in winter time
or withered flowerless briar
all are made to break your dreams
and draw your thoughts much higher
An Ocean beach in times more calm
At home with people stern
A tempest storm or healing balm
Higher thoughts that you must learn
Ne´er upon life´s empty shores
no matter how it seems
For going to reach a better place
you have to break the dream
This poem was written to remember Hugh “Curly” Brannan, an elderly #Kilbirnie man 1912-1990
No Internet nor mobile phone
Just Sitting by the view
His bible held fast in his hands
This was dear old Hugh
A sweat bead forms upon his brow
Complains about the heat
Drinks another cup of tea
And stares down at his feet
With a creed unshakable
He reads another line
Whilst shuffling his greying hands
comes tales of older times
Yearning thoughts of his dear wife
Guided by Psalmist´s tears
Here sat a man with watered eyes
Memories of blessed years
And comes a thought of happiness
Of meeting her and friends
On shores afar, his mind does go
and finds his time well spent
Guided by the written Word
He went on Wisdom´s way
He gave triumph to the Truth
His fears did melt away
May our gaze be ever dear
to Principle held true
living always by our Faith
Just like my dear friend Hugh
