EASTER VIGIL

What gathering mourners these
Who standing cold, bewildered and bemused
Against the fading darkness of the night
Regenerate their tears of bitter loss?

What fire is this, that kindled 'gainst
The chill of memories so close and raw
Bursts not in yellowed flame or radiant warmth
But rather flickers only in the dampened dawn?

What beacon lit that speaks of resurrection?
What candle this, that ritually borne aloft
Dares to proclaim new life, to penetrate
The darkest space, and claim it for its own?

What tales of a people's past, what myths
And explanations, what pain or loss
Or dreams of liberation these, so gently
Now unfolded in the brooding of the dawn?

And so we wait, and ponder 'midst
The singing of the birds in joyous expectation,
How love's defeat, how evil's jubilation
Is overturned: explosive resurrection!

Easter Day
April 2014

PETIT DEJEUNER

Yellow green and gold
Finches chatter the
Early morning news
Amidst the misted stillness
Of the dew-rich dawn.

Then comes a Bulbul
To the terrace; and with a flash
Fast capturing from the air
A passing moth, she then
Before my eyes, dissects it
Wing from wing, and deftly
Turns and eats it whole:
Such is the brutal truth
Of nature in which beauty
Claims its sacred space.

So I to my breakfast
Make my pondering way
Past scented frangipani,
While high above, a hawk hangs
Motionless upon the morning air.


St Julian's Retreat Centre,
Limuru, Kenya
April 2014