You to me

Admiral of the Humber hotel room, Hull, 04/11/18

You to me are like cheese and pickle sandwiches

Like strawberry yogurt

Like battenburg cake

Like builder’s tea or strong coffee made in my Tony Benn mug

You to me are like pints in a pub

Like a single decker bus

Like music that’s acoustic

Like sitting by a fire pit and watching the flames spit

You to me are like a bright summer’s day

Like a walk along a causeway

Like a giggle in a park

Like breaking into dance in the middle of town for no reason whatsoever

You to me are like double rainbows

Like cycling past hedgerows

Like church bells ringing

Like suddenly singing random lyrics sparked by an innocent word

You to me are like a flock of geese calling

Like waves rising and falling

Like clouds wandering

Like a canal boat in its mooring having meandered most of the day

You to me are like all the things I’ve discovered and never got bored of

The things recovered and been restored by God

The things I love and make me feel known

You to me are home

Pilgrim Clouds

Beverley, Mon 23^rd July 2018

Clouds travel the sky

Like floating pilgrims,

Not pushy or driven

Or having something to prove.

They just move, effortlessly,

Serenely free

And full of grace.

The shapes they make can be

Whatever they want to be:

Sharp moments of majesty

Or muddles of mist,

They never insist

On being any one thing.

They dance and then they sing

And then they scatter

And it doesn’t matter.

Their’s is the whole wealth of the sky

An endless playground

To discover

One day after the other,

After the other, after the other,

After the other, after the other….

I am lovestruck

Hull, 15/07/18

I am lovestruck, dumbstruck

Stuck to find the words

To really say all I’m feeling,

All that’s reeling inside.

For years part of me has lived life

Like a frightened wild animal

But lately there’s been a feeling

Of safety.

And of love.

The unexpected presence

Of another wild animal

Protective and strong.

The one for whom

My heart has longed.

A warrior among creatures

His features are kind and rugged

And fierce.

Just one look

Pierces my heart.

Battered by battles

He wears his scars

Shamelessly

Without blame or stain.

So much courage

Held in his mighty frame.

The effect of just resting

On his neck

Is like a homecoming.

And all the soul numbing,

The playing things down

The needing to be careful,

The wariness

And the weariness

Come tumbling down.

It’s alright.

There’s no need to hide

Beside him.

And all the brave things,

The beautiful things.

The brilliant things

Inside, rise.

In the gaze of his eyes

I am free.

Free to love

Free to be

Free to give

All of me.

The Perfect Storm

Matt's House, Boulevard, Hull, June 2018

I thought I’d done this.

I thought I’d already done this,

Twenty years ago, ten years, four,

I’ve been here before.

I thought those times

Of ground giving way

And all the falling

Had been enough.

Would be enough by now.

All the brave work had been done.

The walking into the fury

And letting it do its thing.

But still it persists.

This crashing down

All this crying, crying, crying.

These griefs still making themselves known,

Crawling out of crevasses

And suddenly looming large,

Taking up space.

These weird jack-in-the-box moments

When the least likely thing

Triggers a memory

And then PING! out it all comes,

Displacing time as if it’s now,

As if it’s all happening now.

And all those locked-up feelings

Are screaming.

I can feel the strain of it all

When I touch my arm

Like the blood underneath is fizzing

Like there’s an electrical current

Quietly whizzing round me.

I’m walking around raw

Wanting nothing more

Than to ignore what’s happening

And just do what I’ve always done,

Get on.

Side-step it all by spinning into activity

Or lying low til I can gather

Enough strength and guile

To get out there again

And grit it out.

Always this feeling of exposure

Of not being protected

Of having to stand alone

Not knowing, really, where’s home.

So easier to keep moving,

Safer not to keep still.

Less painful by far

To remain unsettled

To not stop

Not let the guard drop

To stay on top

And just let the smiley me be seen

The likeable, laughable

Lovely to be around, me.

But the perfect storm has hit, it seems

And there’s no way out of it.

All I can do is weather the waves

And just walk straight into it.

Straight into the fury and the fears,

All the unwept tears

And revel in it.

Why not?

Why not rail at it spectacularly?

Why not just abandon myself to it

And let it do its thing.

To be continued………….

Crawling out the wreckage

Matt’s House, June 2018

I’m crawling out of the wreckage

Of all the lies and put-downs,

The heavy expectations

All the plans thwarted

And dreams exploited

All the disappointments

The romantic non-starters

The complete disasters.

The hopes deferred and then deferred

And then deferred.

All the times when I’ve not been heard.

And I’m crawling out of the wreckage,

Free as a bird.

Falling from the sky

Selby St, Hull, 8^th June 2018

Before this there was a falling of sorts.

An awareness of things unravelling

But it was slow, most of the time,

And manageable.

Occasionally there’d be sudden plummets,

Times when the pace and stress of life

Would knock me out of the sky

But usually I’d lay low for a while,

Not let on, write, sleep,

Wait for it to pass,

And then rise again.

Glad to feel the wind against my skin

And be swooping once more with the flock.

This time there’s nothing manageable about it

No easy method to wait it out

No staying power in the sky

Nothing that seems to be holding me

Or energy to hold myself.

I said to God the other day

Matt's House, Boulevard, Hull, May 2018

I said to God the other day:

“You’re not enough.”

And He said

“Good!”

And I could feel His heavenly relief,

Sense His smile spreading,

its gentle joy tickling me forward,

tickling me out of a stuck space –

the “me and God against the world” space,

the hidden habitat of a fear-based holiness.

I said to God the other day:

“You’re not enough.”

And She said

“Good!”

And then She took my hand

and started dancing.

And soon it was Mother, Son, Spirit and me -

me and this rowdy Trinity,

unrestrained, impolite, fearless, free.

I said to God the other day:

“You’re not enough.”

And They said

“Good!”

And then slapped my back, raised a glass,

threw bread like confetti,

flung open the door of that still small space

and we tumbled out

into the land of the living

Like wild things among wild things.