Veronica

Vera icon

True image of Christ

Imprinted on the towel

Of her kindness

Love did not allow

Her to be cautious

Self-conscious

It thrust her

Into the path

This bloodied battered

Body

Christ in degradation

Etching his sacred

Countenance

Upon the soul of one

Who attends to those

Most in need of mercy

Pangs

Bare stalk of tree thrust

Claw into gut of sky

And mine

Winter-sharp vision

I can see and feel

Everything

Labour pains

Dying throes

Pangs of birth

In tandem

Subconscious memory

Playing out

Beginnings and endings

Fresh flesh failing

Body bent in pain

And adoration

The spirit is willing

Pre deliverance restlessness

Upon us

Mother and child

All over again

Curled up in bed

Whoever lives

Whoever dies

I do not know how

I can survive

Without her

WATER (A Womb In My Dreams)

Water is a womb
In my dreams

It nurtures
Some unknown subconscious
Still to be born

Water is a woman
In my waking

A still inspiring tranquil
Sea at the dawn
And dusk of day

Now
And then

A tempest inflicting
The frailty of man upon
Perishing rocks

A river rushing
From mountain top
To ocean depth

Tears of compassion
And delight

Uninhibited flow
Of love and every
Emotion

Water is a calm swell
Rising imperceptibly

Breaching boundaries
Seeping in where it does
Not belong

You open your eyes
On a bed floating in flood

The damage is not
Beyond repair
But it will take forever

And she flicks her eyelids
Glancing sideways
She sighs

Get over it!

Maybe she really wanted
Me to drown
To save me again

In that unfathomable
Logic of her love