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Just a stroke, so tenderly embraced and then laid, strowed, under foot, under hoof, a carpet and canopy for an entering King. How easy to rip from the bough an instrument of worship. Just a stroke, so fiercely stretched and

Posted in Holy Week, Palm Sunday, Poetry Tagged with: , , , , , , ,


This poem concludes a trilogy of poems over the last three Christmases. For 2009 and 2010 see Myrrh and Frankincense. —– All I have wanted for two years and three months is treasure; Not wrapped and buried in a chest under

Posted in Poetry Tagged with: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Heirs of Spinoza

A day late. Forgive me. Heirs of Spinoza Oh “good” ones, who accept their optimal substance (uncompleted) as a portion of that greater substance; if blessedness can only come from elevation to a higher status, some day ism who, I

Posted in Poetry, Theology Tagged with: , , , ,



Last year we had Myrrh, this year Frankincense. — How sweet the smell rising to the heavens. A priest at work Offering thanks and sacrifice. Round the altar a choir with ten thousand wings and countless mouths sings Hallelujah; Hallelujah

Posted in Christmas, Home Life, Poetry Tagged with: , , , , , , , , ,


I I have at home a Moses basket that lies empty, for the child that should have inhabited it is spread on the wind; ashes to ashes dust to Hertfordshire dust along the Lea Valley. Once he had a home a tight,

Posted in Home Life, Poetry Tagged with: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

New Year Haiku

A fresh day But winter remains Still I mourn

Posted in Poetry Tagged with: ,


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Two Final Things

Aber mit der Heimat
geht man immer herum,
durch die Welt,
dort und dort
Peter Handke

No one could describe
the Word of the Father;
but when He took flesh from you, O Theotokos,
He consented to be described, and restored the fallen image to its former beauty.
We confess and proclaim our salvation in word and image.
Kontakion of the Triumph of Orthodoxy