I sailed out
and not a sign of songbirds
I listened to the ocean
and its mournful sway

I have made an ark of my days
no graceful vessel
but a makeshift shelter
in which to stay 

I have made a wreck of my days
and would be done with it
but an ark is a cathedral
by another name

listen to the songbirds
in the cold grey water
songbirds perch
on the endless wave

songbirds sing
in clear blue water
gentle waters
sing for day

spring lambs

this morning everything seems

my food like something
painted on a plate

I’m told today is holy
I suppose I should be patient

but like spring lambs kicking

in a field
I would Christ easter in me

and each day ever after

be nascent

[after “Let him easter in us”, Gerard Manley Hopkins, ‘The Wreck of the Deutschland’, st.35]


Maybe we don’t have souls after all
but just die like dogs,
howling behind fences
in the dark.

Let me go empty,
falling without grace upon white sheets,
crisp and perfect,
positioned for effect.

Let me fall empty,
with a cool calm shiver of release,
upon an un-creased bed
at evening.

Let the dog bark freely,
his evensong resound,
and sing no song of praise for me,
no song that’s heaven bound.

sacred heart

the wasp knows no compassion
no remorse

it will sting and sting again
until it dies

we have built cathedrals
to the stars

we only need a cowshed
in our hearts
to find some peace

pray for peace

so beautiful
the view from Sacré-Cœur
it made me weep


in the little red church in the desert
a thin brown lizard stops dead upon a wall
waiting for something

soon he will be gone
unnoticed by the bent old man
in a yellow blanket
who has been there all night
waiting for nothing