A coracle on the seas

Mine is a small boat on a large ocean
The shore is out of sight
Rough seas toss me from side to side
A squall could overthrow me

But in a coracle
no way is forward,
no way is back.
It goes with the flow
Taken by the winds

But it is all God has given me
And God thinks it is enough.

From a postcard in the Barbican gallery

The nun, her hand brushing
the damask silk
of the cardinal's robe,
seen at the altar as
splendid, regal, untouchable,
a splash of light and colour
in her black and white world,

imagines her hand smoothing
the soft gentle silk
of the cardinal's skin
stripped now of his robes,
human, vulnerable:
waiting for someone
to bring light and colour to his black and white world.

Sheldon Poems

The Sheldon Prayer

Thanks be to God
The Holy Three:
Father, Mother;
sister, brother;
friend, lover

You have found for us a place,
Small enough to call home;
but not so small any need be turned away

Set apart, but not isolated;
where we find space;
but not emptiness

A home beside a wood,
with a stream flowing by

The rush of the wind in the trees:
the wind of your spirit:
which lifts us where we,
like leaves, have fallen;
and gathers into one

The sound of the water:
ever changing, ever new;
clear living water
we can draw within us
to cleanse and renew.

The music of birds
singing psalms
in praise of creation.

A hearth to return to;
kindled in love,
to warm and not destroy.
Where we can be open,
without being afraid;
vulnerable,
without being threatened;
and know the encompassing three
protecting us.

The sacred Three
To save
To protect,
To enfold
the heath,
The home,
The household,
This day,
This night,
Each and every
day and night,
Amen

Written from themes in the Carmina Gadelica
for the service of Thanksgiving and dedication of the Sheldon Centre for the Society of Mary and Martha July 1992
First published in the Society of Mary and Martha Newsletter
Vol 6 No 1, Michaelmas 1992

Walking through the world

1. I am walking through your world, Lord
Your creation surrounds me
Birds, like naughty children, heard but seldom seen
flitting through the branches as I approach.
Bees, recycling an old trunk as a home
Fungus, like chamois leather given life by the death of a tree
Nature creating, and recreating itself as new life
emerges from decay, the tree of life grows on.
So in my life Lord,
let each death - of ambition, of hopes, of fears,
be the beginning of new life
and help me take my place in your re-creation.

2. I walk through your world, Lord,
And see pain all around.
The sad and the lonely
The lost and the dying.

Yet you came to bring joy
The joy of knowing you,
The joy of being yours
The joy of being loved.

So that in all we do
and all that we are
and all that we share:
You are there too
with the sad and the lonely,
the lost and the dying.

The pain is yours, Lord,
as you walk through our world.

Steps in a wood

Steps in a wood, time worn
Earth erasing human tread
Ants turn timber to dust
as all must,
but which all dread.

Steps renewed climb upward,
a gate foretells the way ahead.
The path counts a steady pace,
no quick race
by which we're led.

The power of the motor

I am going out in faith
energy from the earth empowering me.
As the power of the motor is beneath me,
so may the power of God be within me,
the company of the son be at my side
the guiding of the spirit lead me on.
And may Christopher protect me from the danger of flood
Michael protect me from my enemies.
And may I protect those whom I pass
and bring a blessing to all whom I meet.

The huts through the wood.

The home we long to reach
The life we long to live
The person we long to be
is hidden from us by the trees
is cut off by the storm around us
is closed by the walls of our mind.

You are the path through the wood
You are the bridge over the flood
You are the gate to our soul.

Father of all
Saviour of all
Spirit of all

this day, this night
all days all nights.

©Peter G Ashby 2002

Shorter pieces

Waterfall

One drop of water
joining with others, flowing
into a new stream.

Water falls on stone
reforming the rough edges
soothing and smoothing.

so your love takes me
mellows me, reshapes me
calming and soothing.

Two people flow into one
holding and enfolding,
into a new dream.

The Swans at Abbotsbury

Looking at the swans on the fleet
I thought of flying home to you.
And you waiting Leda like
For my coming.

Angus searching for his love
Found her now a swan.
And taking wing
Joined her in eternal flight.

So this ugly duckling
Given wings by your love,
Would take flight
And join you in the skies

A lone red kite

A lone red kite soars
Lifted high above the earth
Catching the updraft

The lake far below
Enfolded by wooded hills
Still in the sunlight

Fold me in your arms
Carry me above the crowd
Lift me to heaven.

Haiku

A stone stands silent
An immortal witness
To eternal God

**********

A stone circle stands
Pointing to the empty skies
Silently waiting

**********

A naked girl burns
The flame of love she carries
cannot be destroyed

**********

Luke 7.36
Her tears wet my feet
The touch of rain on bare skin
Gently caressing

©Peter G Ashby 2002

Divine Landscapes

On our first Christmas together
I gave you a book of divine landscapes.
Sacred places to explore
and find space to be ourselves.

So our journey began
as with tentative steps we walked out together.

Over the years, paths have become familiar
well trodden.
Like well-used boots
we fit comfortably into each others lives.
Not pinching any more
but snugly giving warmth and protection.

But always there is some hidden corner to hunt out.
Hidden treasure too,
tucked away from prying eyes.
Or the jealous looks of those who wish us ill.

A lifetime of discovery.
Seeing in the landscape
what had always been there.
What apart had meant nothing,
but together meant everything.
Common places become extra-ordinary
because found with you,
and in them I found you
and explored the divine landscape of your heart.

©Peter G Ashby 1998

Miscellany

          Footsteps

Footsteps

pass me by

Down the empty corridor

Echoed

By the beat

Of my empty heart

     Summer of 71

     4am

           my arm cramped under your body

           your hair tickles my face

           as I brush it away

           your half-awake eyes turn to mine

          Our bodies meet

          and melt in the warmth of each other

          We leave the realities of single-bed sex

          and drown in dreams of love.

          You leave next morning

          knowing perhaps

          that we shall never meet again

          At Christmas

          my once a year greeting

          returns unopened

          "addressee gone away"

         Just in time for my birthday

    New York 2000

        Jet lagged,

        cultureshocked,

        overfed,

        subwayed.

        Walked footless

        in Central Park.

        0-107 in 60 seconds

        floors that is

        at the World Trade Centre.

       The obligatory

       Ashby freeby

       on the Staten Island ferry.

       New sounds

       new smells

       new feel

       new insight

       new taste,

       or lack of it.

       New York.

      

How do I love thee, let me count the ways

How do I love thee, let me count the ways

I love thee to the depth and breadth and height

that I can reach, inside you, out of sight,

to the ends of you, in our love plays.

I love the gentle touch that rouses me from rest;

I love thee freely, all shyness put to flight;

I love thee purely, for what we do is right

when, coming together, we find what's best.

I love thee with the passions put to use,

when in your loving arms I feel secure.

I love thee that love you did not refuse

and so ended loneliness once endured.

I love thee when our bodies interlace

and when, away, from you, I see your face.

Reflections on events at the White House

I took John back today

to the White House car park.

Though he missed the significance.

I wanted to tell him

but didn't,

that here the world changed.

I wanted to lay a bouquet

like the memorials at the site of accidents

to where we accidentally collided

and fell into each other

and became one.

Or at least put up a blue plaque:

"Here L** and Pete first melded

into one new being.

That rare creation,

an endangered species.

A single love."

John walked on

oblivious

that the earth he walked on was precious.

Here the snows of the long lonely winter had melted

Here the cold was left behind

and I could move toward the sun.