I can see
by the light in your eyes
that you have travelled far,
so old and yet so young.

I can hear a train in the distance,
it’s windows filled with golden light.
Soon we will be passengers again, you and I.

You should have seen what I saw this morning!
The way the mist rose from the fields,
the cobwebs strung with light
and the sun gently greeting them.

How lovely this world is!
How sacred a gift!

Let us hold hands,
place our heads upon
one another’s shoulders
and our hearts in each other’s laps
that we too can be goldsmiths
before our train arrives.




Pace yourself
these last few furlongs,
let time unravel before you,
it would be a shame to
rush the last few steps,
they are the best part of the
whole journey.

When the finish is in sight
and anticipation at its height
measure your steps, walk slowly
and let yourself be seen.

Let them see
how you got here,
the scars on your body,
the marks on your soul,
let them see your lovely heart,
don’t look back, just let them see
how many failures it has taken
for you to succeed.

The Island




The berries ripened
and then dropped one by one
into the lake water,
nobody saw them fall,
nobody saw the great carp
silently rising to greet them.

The empty windows of the cabin
looked impassively on,
the mice made nests in the rugs,
the snow came, the lake froze over,
and the rusting tins of food in the cupboards
settled in for yet another year,
waiting for the children to return,
waiting for the woods
to fill with their laughter again.





I wasn’t thinking
of anything in particular
when they came over,
I just looked up and there they were,
a host of silver angels on the wing,
bent on some purpose, I know not what.
The perfect majesty of heaven
moving with inexorable grace,
indifferent to what was below them
save through their radiance,
their luminous beauty,
which touched my soul
and caused my heart
to ache with longing.

Fallen Gold


What did you learn,
how did you use the gift of your life?

I learned how easily gold
slips through my fingers,
and how much despair
fallen gold creates.

But I learned something else too,
something about my heart and about love,
that love can make a new kind of gold
from my mistakes, a rare gold,
not found in heaven or on earth
but that dwells in man alone.

Light becomes darkness
and then it becomes light again,
but it’s not the same light as before,
it’s a new light, a light that has been tested
in the vale of life and has remained true,
true to man and true to God.



I’m impressionable,
everything affects me,
every look, every feeling,
every kindness,
every carelessness act,
my own and others.

By the end of the day
I’m dimpled like the page of
an old letterpress book,
then gradually in the night,
my flesh expands and
becomes smooth again,
the impressions lift off and
are stored in the basement
of my mind for later consideration
and I wake up to clean, a fresh page