Category: Creative writing

The Parable of the Sower:-

Nothing is Lost.

The sower spreads His seed
Some in deserts dry and barren,
But cracks and hidden streams embrace blown seeds
To bloom again
In colours rich and deep

Some among thistles thick and choking
Thorns to tear you apart
But bursting seeds
Fly to the sky, caught by the hungry birds
Hope for new life

The path may be long and hard
With missing signposts
And full of human pain and blood
But the wind of the Holy Spirit knows where to blow
Keeping the everlasting seed growing

© Helen McNicoll

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Silent

Silent are the ancestors who owned the field in Galilee.
Silent are the words of the inheritor, the sower with the seed.
Silent are the arms that scatter with aspirations so high.
Silent is the village hope for rain from the sky.

Silent are the thorns, sharply defending their ground.
Silent are the stones, stubborn and stationary on the mound.
Silent are the paths that offer an easy way out.
Silent are the greedy birds, pecking grain, no doubt.
Silent is the second when the seed meets earth.
Silent is the germination that brings each seed to birth.
Silent is the intensity of heat from the sun,
scorching the saplings which wither and burn.
Silent is the stealth of thorns that choke plants in their prime.
Silent is the dead greenery, lying shallow in a line.
Silent is the relationship between farmer, seed and soil.
Silent is the farmer’s sweat whilst he continues to toil.

Listen, can you hear? The sounds of life being shown?
Even in the thorns and stones, love can be known.
Listen to the miracles of change at every stage.
Listen to the birds that spread the seed from age to age.
Listen to the seed just sown and to saplings growing high.
Listen to the life cycle from seed to flourishing vine.
I grow seeds of peace, blooms of joy and blossoms of love,
I harvest gentleness, patience and goodness from above.
I live in each human heart, in every woman and man.
I offer again my counsel, a counsel that only a loving God can.
Listen, simply listen, to that loving voice inside.
Those branches are from the seed I planted.
Ask me again to be your guide.

© Frances Burton, September 2018

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The Scorched Earth

Oh Lord what have we done
We have destroyed good and fertile soil
We have burnt the life out of the land
And have laid it bare and barren
And yet

And yet we look, and see, the wonder of your creation
Creeping along the burning soil we see shoots of green
Seeds that have been scorched now ready for germination
The Lord sees roots seeking moisture and goodness
Small shoots reaching for light and warmth.
And yet

The soil is thin and stoney, dry and poor
What have we done, what have we created.
But look, we can repent and start again
Till the soil, water the land and allow
Creation to flourish in your name.

© Jenny English

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During the morning, David New displayed a mosaic he produced some years ago based on the Parable of the Sower . . .

 

. . . and whilst working on the design of origami birds for one of the activites, David also composed the following poem:

The Sower

Had it not been for you
Birds would have eaten
Every seed.

You touch our hearts
But we think
It’s a rush of blood.

You call us by name
But we say
“It’s all in the mind.”

We had a moment when time stood still
When we heard our baby’s first cry.

There was the moment
At the crossroads.
We called it
A lucky escape.

You came but we did not know it
But now we sense your presence.

Yes, you covered the seed
You waited till we understood

How your heavenly Spirit
Interpenetrates
Our earthly world.

One hundredfold
You bless us.

David New

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Jesus calms the sea:-

On the fifth day God created the sea.

On the fifth day God created the sea
It was filled with goodness
Tides ruled by the moon
Changing colour and moods
Inspiring man to travel the waves
As Jesus and his disciples moved
Across the lake in the evening
Then the great gale arose
Fear spread and gripped the swamped boat
Waves rose up like angry monsters
Echoing voyages of Celtic Saints, valiant fishermen and lifeboat heroes
And the cries of searching, hopeful boat people
But Jesus was there in all our lives
He calmed the seas, bringing peace
May we shed our fears, shattered dreams and grief
Lay them at his feet
And bathe in tranquil hopeful waters

© Helen, June 2018

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Swamped no more!

In times when I am swamped by worries
By circumstances where I feel overwhelmed
When waves of despair hit hard and I
Am drowning in life itself
There is a moment when I may be overcome
But I am stilled and calm; my mind in quiet prayerful contemplation
I become aware of Christ; he is within me and without.
In that instant faith is renewed I am restored

© Barbara Rolison, June 2018

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Everyone was focusing on practical craft work this month. however, David New has contributed a poem he wrote a little while ago:

The Wedding in Cana.

We are getting ready for
The Love Feast of the Lamb.
So let the water of your living pour
Into the waiting jars.
He’ll take your sighs and tears.
He’ll take your cracked endeavours, but
Most of all your heart’s confession that
You cannot do without him.

David New 2013

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The Empty Tomb

The tomb was empty
Jesus had resurrected as had been foretold
Filling the world with new life
Lasting hope and promise for everyone
Flowing from the changed body
Cradling with His Holy Father and Holy Ghost,
For all generations through the ages
Here for us to savour and touch
To bring feeling within us
Treasure revere and spread,
With a heartfelt response and action
And giving with sincere thanks
Thank you Lord
We are yours.

Helen Mc Nicholl ©

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About Lazarus

Lord, Lazarus, his sisters Martha and Mary were your friends
and you often stayed with them.
So when you said” Lazarus come out”
Lazarus would have recognised your voice.
I think he must have nearly burst with joy
at hearing your voice speak his name.
Lord I wonder if Lazarus had been in heaven when you called him?
Did he think or talk about his experience?
Was he able to settle back into everyday life afterwards?
Lord I am so glad you called him;
please when we die,
may we hear your loving voice welcoming us.

Amen

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Last Breath

With my last breath as my Soul flies
His Spirit will surround me.
In dying my body will remain a while
But I have gone to Him.

You may feel great sorrow for your loss
Deep grief for all you will miss,
But be reassured that I am in a glorious place
Where the love of Christ abounds
Rejoice and thank God for the memory of me.

Barbara Rolison
©Kingdom Arts 13/03/2018

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Good Shepherd Prayers

In the closing session of the morning, this prayer was accompanied by a Tongue Drum.

Good Shepherd,
help me to be like a good sounding tongue drum.
May the sound I make in my life
enable others to hear your voice.
When I feel tired
let the sound continue on and on,
giving me strength for the journey ahead.
Give me courage to take these sounds into the world
to help others hear you speaking through the noises of the world
that clamour for our attention.
May the sound I make be beautiful to others
and to you.
Amen

Alex New

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Sheep

So often dismissed to the lower rungs of the animal world.
But they float through our Christmas cards.
Feed and sustain many nations. Clothe and warm chilled limbs.
Our wise ones know their wealth and their need for a loving shepherd.
With homes and food just right. A lifelong caring.
Psalm 23 echoes down through the ages.
Pictures with Christ in their midst calling out from the flock.
I am their shepherd and YOURS! Follow me.
Stray not from the path I love the weak and the strong. The marginalised the forgotten.
I will bind broken limbs, rescue you from briars or pits, and feed you richly in pastures old and new.
And raise you all up, upon my shoulder into life eternal.

Helen McNichol

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Shepherds

In those days long ago shepherds were lowly, isolated poor and not regarded much, tending others precious flocks in scrubby pastures. They travelled on foot in search of grazing, slept on the ground, and guarded the sheep from wolves, lions, eagles and thieves. They lit fires for safety and a little warmth.
Astonished when the brightest most radiant light disturbed them so, voices sang praises to God on high. They heard the message, trusted in the Angel and left everything to see the new born Son of God.

Back on the quad bike with helmet, padded jacket and mobile the shepherd and her sheepdogs ascend the hillside to feed the flock. They are well nourished with bales of hay kept under cover, a bin of pellets and clean water. She checks the ewes for lameness, any sign of illness or harm, for they are almost ready to lamb.
Whistling to the dogs they gather the sheep and slowly bring them down to the shed. There they are nurtured and protected awaiting their time.
But what if God, just now, sent his Angel messenger? How would she receive the message hear the voice?

For Jesus is our shepherd, gathering, nourishing, nurturing and protecting us.
Slowly guiding us to his presence.

Barbara Rolison

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Vines

Spring is here
The rows are straight
The vines are pruned
All looks bare and lost
As we sometimes feel
But it is God’s given rest
His enriching soil surrounds us
Ready for that blessed new growth
We must twist and turn upward
Letting our leaves absorb His word
His love, His everlasting support
To grow His spiritual fruit
To share with friends, the world
May we ever grow
And quench our burning thirst

Helen

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A prayer written after contemplation on the vine.

Father, may we glorify You through our obedience and trust in you.
Help us to follow your son wholeheartedly, abiding in His teachings and example.
Help us to cling onto your Word.
Direct our growth in the direction you choose
And remove everything that impedes our closeness to You.

Les

Bread

God said
I give you every seed bearing plant
And it was good
Different colours and shapes
Like all human kind
Pounded and milled for us to face life
Mixed with the water of God
Risen with the yeast of the Holy Spirit
Shaped with the love of Jesus
To become our life bread
Lifted high and blessed
Ready to share
May all be fed
To bring us nearer to God
And faith in life eternal.

Helen

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I am the Bread of Life

Broken for us,
Restored, Renewed, Revived
Everyone welcomed
Alive in God’s hands
Dying you destroyed our death and in rising you restored our life.

Alex

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Fisher of Men

The sight of Jesus alone as day breaks, watching the water.
Pale barley colours streak the grey sky line.
The sound of sea nibbling at the shore.
The smell of wood smoke, the flicker of spiralling flames,
A boat bumping in the waves.
Fishermen surprise in their voices greet you, as Peter splashing through the sea rushes to touch you.
At your instruction the net is cast rightly, soon teeming with the threshing and struggling fish of every kind and dragged to the shore.
All sharing the bread and fish not knowing that later they will call your name in many lands and voices,
Shout your praise
Cast the net wide again and share bread and wine with mankind.

Barbara Rolison
May 2017

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Breakfast on the shore of the lake 

No fish and
A thin mist on the shore.

On the lake, a boat,
Rocking gently
Where tired bodies longed for bed.

When suddenly,
Through the mist,
A distant voice –
“Cast the net once more.”
Wow! The perfect catch!
Where did all that come from?

Alerted by the spectacle
Their eyes espied a fire,
Piercing the drifting mist.

Peter,
Waiting for no one,
Grabbed his cloak,
Plunged into the sea
And struck out for the shore.

Not like Moses,
Tip-toeing his way:
Peter believed –
It is the Lord!
His heart reached out for the great embrace!

The great I am
Is on our shore
To feed and guide and love us all.

David New
2017

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Gethsemane

Trinity dancer, You came, Loving Lord
Flow of indwelling Love circling Your veins
Ye eternity in Your breath
Freedom in communion

Came into bustling, tumbling humanity
Crowds touching, following, circling You round.
Needs, noise, every word dissected
Your heart open to all

You often yearned for stillness; space of breath,
Yet never alone. Unless in a crowd.
You stilled our storms, healed our anguish,
Met all our outstretched hands.

But when Your human heart yearned to us
For companion, healing, holding touch…
Where were we then? O Dear Lord, now
We long to dry Your tears.

We walk alone so often, deep in heart
But there You always meet us, stand by us.
You touch, anoint, when we feel left alone.
In solidarity.

Victoria Barlow

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The Crown of Thorns

Pilate: I must save
My face, hold on to power.
Christ gave all, saved all.

Christ carries the cross.
He, the willing substitute,
For us, the condemned.

Bearing the burden
Of war, oppression, sickness.
Stumbling but bearing.

Underneath it all.
Deeper than the worst you know.
He is there for us.

He meets his mother,
Not understanding, but there.
Be there and bear it.

Simon takes the cross.
Press-ganged to join the free man.
Disciple for life.

Jesus falls again
How embarrassing, we say,
Jesus understands.

Christ meets the women.
Weep not for yourselves, he said.
But for your children.

Christ, nailed to the cross.
Such unbearable pain, Lord,
How did you forgive?

My God, where are you?
I feel all desolation.
Paradise today!

I am so thirsty.
I crave relief, acquittal,
For my oppressors.

Behold, your mother.
Fellowship in suffering.
Church is born right here.

His body hangs limp
In the setting sun, heaven
Opens doors to earth.

Lifeless in her arms
He lies, all agony gone.
Grief and tears and peace.

They buried Jesus,
Joseph and Nicodemus,
In the rich man’s grave.

What was it, Jesus?
Stirred in them this act of faith?
“Hearts touched by my love.”

Silent Saturday.
Sabbath rest in stone cold tomb.
Peace that saves the world.

Let go and let God.
Prison cell prayer; being still.
Miracles follow!

David New

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Gethsemane

People all shapes and sizes
Different thoughts and beliefs
Waving palms with thoughts of a coming King.
How did Jesus see them?
With love and Understanding.

The fearful gathering
Dismayed at foot-washing
Not from the Master!
How did Jesus see them?
His loved ones, His brothers, His children.

The meal set for all,
The sharing of bread and wine,
A foretaste of His body and blood.
What did Jesus hope for?
An echoing continual thanksgiving
Remembering His universal forgiveness and love.

The creeping away, Judas
With thoughts of money and betrayal.
Have we crept quietly away?
How did Jesus see him?
Ever knowing, grieving.

In the garden the absence God created
Deep prayer amongst scents and sounds
Sleeping disciples and a broken heart.
How did Jesus see God?
With slow acceptance and pain.

Upon the cross in anguish
Gasping for breath, skin tearing
Two robbers, family support.
How did Jesus see them?
With Forgiveness, concern and love.

Leaving the tomb, risen in Glory
Accomplished, one with the Father
New life for the mission of God.
How do we see Jesus?
Our Saviour, our Hope and Joy
The path for life into Eternity.

Helen McNicol

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