Poems and Thoughts

                Nada

To see your weeping eyes

To feel your pain upon

That public post

The shame, the fear, the

Agony-

 

Oh! This dark night

When desert sands blind

Your vision and beat against

Your tired face

 

Cold comfort in your nakedness

Exposed to only your nothingness

Nada-your downing moan

Nada,Nada

 

Upon his empty stage you wait

Lost,broken, deserted

Point me north in this abyss

Soften my wounded heart

With gentle reminders of warmth.

 

from The Cry of My Soul

 

 

 

 

 

      Crown of Thorns
            Etching

          The Appearance

That longed for feminine goal

Stretch out and lift high

Rising-

A wooded hide

Reds, greens yellows, golds

Falling from an upright tower

Mary, Virgin most wild

Raindrops of perpetual cleaning

Upon your feet.

Rising-

Through the grove

Seeking light for a heavenly connection

Come out, burst forth!

Radiance appearing

A open face confronting

A world made ready.

 

from Containing the Dream

   The Fruit of Suffering

 A suffering made good,

When head and feet,

Ripen their fruit

Earth's gift, heaven's brain

A living sacrifice,

Expiring in the raging heat

Of creeping survival,

Amid lashes and deep cuts

Upon 'The Way'

Yet, I remain.

Awake to that vision,

Eyes penetrate to see-

A church refreshed with

Our blood upon that cross

He and I, We-

Made dead to their world.

 

from Containing the Dream

 "the sensitivity of beauty touches the soul in a pure and special way."

" to lift oneself to a high plane-a heavenly reality were good exists-surely this should  be encouraged."                                                                                                        (writing extracts,1991)