I Am Said I (Huruma)

For nearly six years now since my mother died, I've been travelling down the distance from Dublin to Galway first of all to visit my family and secondly to keep the gardens of home in check. It sounds posh to say "gardens" as if I own an estate. The housing estate of Mervue that was built by the corporation in the 1950's was well planned, thoughtfully providing a lot of public and private space. Our family home is one of six terraced houses in Ceannt Avenue where we were given three gardens. One small one at the front, another small one at the back and then the big back garden that was used in our youth for growing vegetables. It was my mother's garden. It was she who cultivated it when she was young and strong enough to do so. In later years she turned it into a lawn edged on one side with lovely shrubs and small trees. And she left all of this to me before she died, wanting me to have a place of my own to come home to.      I'm no Diarmuid Gav...

For nearly six years now since my mother died, I've been travelling down the distance from Dublin to Galway first of all to visit my family and secondly to keep the gardens of home in check. It sounds posh to say "gardens" as if I own an estate. The housing estate of Mervue that was built by the corporation in the 1950's was well planned, thoughtfully providing a lot of public and private space. Our family home is one of six terraced houses in Ceannt Avenue where we were given three gardens. One small one at the front, another small one at the back and then the big back garden that was used in our youth for growing vegetables. It was my mother's garden. It was she who cultivated it when she was young and strong enough to do so. In later years she turned it into a lawn edged on one side with lovely shrubs and small trees. And she left all of this to me before she died, wanting me to have a place of my own to come home to.      I'm no Diarmuid Gav...

"Always have your answer ready for people who ask you the reason for the hope you all have"  (1 Peter 3:15) My answer is not a theology or a logic or even an explanation. It is an experience that is known and understood in my soul. It is beyond words but we also need to put some words on it. Each of us needs to put our own words on a truth that is eternal. The soul gets crusty and rusty and smothered by all sorts of clutter, so it's necessary to clear away the debris that has gathered in and around the it. This clearing away takes me back to a time of pure innocence, the time of my First Holy Communion.  I knew that Jesus Himself was coming into me, into my soul and I longed for Him, approaching Him with great reverence in the way that I see reverence in the children of today, the reverence that is essential for the well-being of the soul. And I was expecting a physical brightness to take place in me, wondering if the soles of my shoes would shine brightl...

Firmer than flour A sack of grain Stacked solid Capable of being Dented Sat upon Hauled Incapable Of moving free From shadow The persistent Pursuing dark The child loved this Persevering Obedient Waiting Without question Sitting solitary still On a rock Gazing Sea of blue and black Yellow and green and red I loved hiding In safe dark spaces Utterly alone And present

Letting go of what I know All that I cling to for safety I fall through the open door And dive plunging Into the deep abyss Of nothingness That I do not know At the centre of my being Unfathomable mystery That contains the universe Held encompassed by God It is into His hands That I will land If I land at all Or fall further Beyond the decayed Debris of my past To the incredibly vibrant Colour that lies hidden Beneath what can be seen Of me

5th Sunday of Easter 2014 Back in the day! 1984 The first reading from Acts 6 became a defining passage of Scripture at a defining moment in my life as a priest. I had already been in Tanzania a couple of years when I was appointed Parish Priest of Galapo and over those years it became increasingly clear that I wasn't fitting in to the model of the missionary church that I found there. From the 1960's it was understood that you couldn't preach the gospel to empty stomachs and so it was necessary to feed the hungry before preaching to them. This is in keeping with the concern that Jesus had for the hungry when he multiplied the loaves and fish, though I think He fed them after they had listened to Him preach. The problem in Tanzania was that the hunger never went away and the material development of the people seemed to become the dominant feature of missionary life - not that the spiritual ministry didn't exist but it seemed to have become less central. ...

Place of beauty Moment of bliss Birds singing Sound of the Grotto In May I am fifteen Nearly innocent again Almost recovered From breaking down Still bruised But breathing Passing through the gap From the rocky fields Of play to churchyard prayer Entering the gateway To paradise beneath A canopy of fresh green Oasis in the desert Deep pool where raging Rapid waters cease Five stone steps To ascend Five mysteries Joy Sorrow Glory I am on my knees In unhurried prayer Making this refuge last Fending off  the future As long as I can "Will you mind me?" I wonder On the sixth step I am Bernadette silently Looking up to Mary Looking higher still The ultimate ascent That I have yearned for Since first I left it But now I must descend again To the old priest's grave And run for a further Wordless glance to Jesus In the sanctuary The sound of the ticking Pendulum clock Reminding me of an old Kitchen telling me its time

The thirsty camel  Is o n his knees A hot sand-coloured noon Nothing moves I go to the well alone Leaving behind The bulk burden  Stubborness I hear Him crying Beneath a cypress shade My hand touches cold Clear water Blessed refreshment On parched lips Ointment for bleary eyes I see Him Collapsed against The tree trunk Face sunk in Pulled-up knees Bare feet blistered Bruised I hold Him Giving Him to drink Bathing His sacred Feet I have expectations Of Him The water that quenches All thirst I want it  Not now Not here He says There is a distant fall Rough rocks the road I must traverse thirsting All the more Till I am parched enough

Swine of a storm Stampeding down The Mountain Snapping in half Every tree of the forest Stripping the surface bare Uprooting the flimsy Dwelling I had constructed You have prepared A cave carved Into Your very essence Unshakeable interior Safe shelter from all fury I will take my stand At the entracnce And not be overwhelmed +++ 11  The  Lord  said, “Go out and stand on the mountain  in the presence of the  Lord , for the Lord  is about to pass by.” Then a great and powerful wind  tore the mountains apart and shattered  the rocks before the  Lord , but the  Lord  was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the  Lord  was not in the earthquake.   12  After the earthquake came a fire,  but the  Lord  was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper.   13  When Elijah heard it, he pulled his cloak over his face  and went out and stood at the mouth of th...

Smashed Window by RavenMaddArtwork You smashed my window Cast a rock through my senses Shattered asylum's tranquility Shelter where I am refugee From my own country Exposed now to elements Of unfair weather Breathing hostile air I tread contaminated soil Alien in a place That cannot claim me My belonging being Elsewhere Yet there is holiness Here a higher atmosphere