I Am Said I (Huruma)

CLICK HERE TO VIEW SLIDESHOW Music by ===> Grabielle Alpin - The Power Of Love Paddy Carty (Traditional Irish Flute Player) Tanglewood - 'The Place Where You Were Born' & 'Homecoming' Philip Phillips - 'Home' The Lumineers - 'Ho Hey'

 ‘No servant can be the slave of two masters' (Luke 16)  You walk into a room and they're sitting there watching television. At the same time each one is doing something on their own laptop with headphones in their ears. They emerge from what absorbs them to smile and hug you and then they sink back into their respective absorption. It's the way things are. They remind me of myself when I was their  age, in my early twenties. Music was my first love which totally absorbed me. Listening to it on the blue transistor radio. All we had was Radio Eireann and an hour of Larry Gogan and at night we could get 208 Radio Luxembourg. Enough to feed my need for anything modern - pop, rock, folk. I got to know ever detail of the charts, becoming a bit of an encyclopedia, almost good enough to rival Larry Gogan who knew everything. By my early twenties I had acquired a radio cassette recorder and as I write this I realize that my nephews and nieces have no idea what ...

A wild tempestuous  Man The doctor Approaches my body With   reverence The touch is that Of a healer Healing more Than flesh It’s not the scandals That have ruined The Church he said It’s the culture People have too much And not enough Joy There never was joy In our brand Of Christianity We went to Missions With long reluctant faces And came back home With longer faces still They would have held Us longer by praise And drawn us to God’s Heart by it But they would not! For they could not The only thing That made the people Really smile Was winning The all Ireland The God almighty Thrill of it We didn’t smile that day We ran and we laughed And held up the Sam Maguire Like some sacred chalice With no notion of God In any of it And to think of the struggle To separate Church and State When years ago We cut God o ff  From life Treating o ne another As if He didn’t exist And played as though He knew nothing Of happiness Would you be well? The doctor asked If you would be well ...

I went to see Eamon Keane & special guest John Sheehan of the Dubliners at the National Concert Hall during the week. Eamon was previously an excellent presenter on Newstalk but he's an even more excellent piano player. He sits at his piano and improvises; it's suggested that he himself doesn't quite know what he's going to play. I close my eyes to take in the music and wonder what on earth he's at - there's quite a strong feeling of turbulence, something coming from the dark roots of the earth and then something beautiful begins to suggest itself, a hint of a familiar tune, then the tune itself rising like a butterfly from the caterpillar - Norwegian Wood , Scarborough Fair and more. These two movements of life are held together in balance, moving in and out of each other - darkness and light, turbulence and peace, discord and harmony. It's not a religious concert but the evening is brought to a close with Amazing Grace which John Shee...

BENEDICTUS In memory of the actress Susan Fitzgerald who died today. I met her twice and encountered true inner beauty and serenity. During our last meeting in August I played Karl Jenkins' 'Benedictus' for her and dedicate it now as a prayer that she rest in the peace & beauty of the eternal Benedictus of Jesus "who comes in the name of the Lord" Click on the photo for slideshow to the music of BENEDICTUS by Karl Jenkins

Click On Photo To View Slideshow https://docs.google.com/file/d/0B2BxqHcSmGbMajJBcG9FVUkzNnc/edit A Place Of Quiet - Pallottine Retreat Centre, Thurles, Co. Tipperary, Ireland Music by Michael W Smith

Draw back the curtains Roll up the blinds Unveil the day Intense red sky Fading to grey-pink clouds Patches of blue Before the breaking through Moon gives way to sun Mary gives way to Jesus Mother to son "Do whatever He tells you!" There will be wine today A miracle Transfiguration His Word is Light In stained glass flooding My face, a child's painting Colouring my soul awake My senses, my thoughts, my heart.

I am a child In my Grandmother’s Kitchen With the evening Closing in And we are alone The two of us By the open fire And she handing me Rice on a red plastic Plate and I savouring Its loveliness The lapping of flames In turf and the clock ticking We are not in need Of words And do not speak them I am a child In my Grandmother’s Kitchen Kneeling at her feet Hands joined and resting On her lap Finding God in The kitchen and the home Of our lives And being loved This is my prayer