THIS HOUSE IS MY SOUL (for Peg)

Nights I cannot sleep
Mornings I cannot wake

It’s one of those times
Now

Twenty five minutes
Past twelve

Midday

This house is my soul
The kitchen its centre

Telling the prayer
Of a battered chair

Ablutions in a cold
Basin

Cinder ashes tumbled
On the concrete floor

No fire

An idle shovel leaning
There for want
Of a hand

Holy water
Faded photo
Clear memory

The sieved life

Womanly pink painted
Over manly blue

Peeling away
The old distinctions

Male or female
No different now
In Him

ii

He is not here
The One I love

He might have gone
The One I need

My Saviour Brother
Beyond

The fields of herding
Cows

Over the hills of grazing
Sheep

It could be late
When He returns

Or am I the absent one
The blind who cannot
See

The numb who does not
Feel?

The Immaculate Heart
On the mantle piece

Must help me here
Assure me

That we will connect
Again

That He is here
Even in the waiting
Emptiness

Take the shirt that hangs
There waiting too, She says

Be covered, comforted
Warmed in the scented
Meantime

In the inner chamber
Where Love lays down
With every loss

Listening to the distant
Washing Waves of sea
That whispers hope