ADORATION (O Sacred Silence)

O Sacred Silence

O Silent Sacrament 

Jesus Silent in my Heart
Jesus Hidden in the Host

Behind the Tabernacle door
Totally Present Within

Completely Still

Leading me on
Taking me in

I come that I may be
Silent like You

And Present

My Heart wholly
Like Yours

Amen

Prayer (In Loving Memory of Paul)

(In loving memory of my cousin Paul who found solace in the words of this poem and whose untimely death has given these words another meaning. November 3, 2012)

Place me on a shore at dusk
By the sea’s healing waters
Where thoughts like boats
Go floating by my mind’s eye
Some circling round
Or anchored to distract
Yet not to hide your Light
My Love


Place me at dusk on a shore
Where the soul’s calm sea
Is stormed and laid to rest
At your command
To contemplate your Light
My Love

This I ask
Amen!

MOTHER AND CHILD (Adoration in Lagos)

In her left arm
A baby rests

Silent

In front of the Blessed
Sacrament

In her right hand
The flimsy pages
Of a Bible

Blow back and forth
Under the force
Of an electric fan

Relieving the humid
Hot air

The child reaches up
To touch her face

The mother smiles
And God is pleased

Kitchen Prayer

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

TAKING OFF OUR SHOES

The smooth touch
Of cold marble
Beneath the pilgrim feet
Bloodied in the ascent

We have taken off

And left our shoes outside

With our weapons

Our strength and proud boasts

In the cool of the sanctuary

We are introduced again

To the pure nakedness of birth

Entering into life

Surrendering again to love

Adoring Him

The old woman
Pours water unbidden

On my feet

Cleansing, soothing balm

Drenching the soul

She is Christ to me

And I the beloved resting
Near to the heart

To The Quiet Come (Nairobi Prayer)

Rainfall 
In the evening 
Silencing

The barking dogs 
And screaming children, 

Drowning out 
The roar of traffic. 

And all that roars
And screams
And barks inside me

The traffic of my soul
The dogs inside my mind
The children of my heart

Are to the quiet come

In the steady fall 
Of heavy rain 

It’s easier to pray.

A Boy In Prayer

Soft and deep
The carpet beneath
Is a comfort to him

Head resting sidewards
On folded arms

He catches sight of
Purple petals falling
From flower to floor

Shafts of sunlight
Flooding the sanctuary

They are singing
The hymn he likes

I Will Never Forget You

Prophecy
Promise
Protection

Trust in God

Does a mother forget
Her baby or a woman
The child within her womb?

And he searches my eyes
Looking for some sign

We are singing
The hymn he likes

Yet even if these forget
I will never forget you!

NOSTOS

It doesn’t last long

Silence in a church

Refuge for the word weary

Briefest of brief

Moment

Loud whispered aspirations

Louder vocal prayers

Local news passed on

Between statues

She pauses in front

Of me

Thinking she knows

Me

Smiling dementia

She is a book

Without chapters

Unbroken flow

Of words

Five hundred pages

Long

A faded grandeur

Battered sparkling

Red shoes in hand

Makeup-smeared

I hold her hand

Breaking the silence

Touching God

She leads me barefoot

In the Pavilion of Mercy

To a sort of homecoming

FOR THE LAST DROP OF BLOOD (Syrophonecian)

(In honour of Mother and Father)

I want to feel 

The heart of the Mother

The flesh-pang of the Father 

All dependent

She throws herself

In front of a car

To save the life

He holds a hospital hostage

That the child can be treated

And live

It is instinct

Not reason

That will do anything

To spare the fruit

Of loins and womb

Such love

Does not pause

To think things through

Only they know

How to pray

With such desperation

To take God on

At the coalface

Fighting to the last

Drop of sweat

For the last

Drop of blood

For life they wrestle

With Life

Demanding

A blessing and a declaration

No matter what

The injury to self

It is the only prayer

Worth praying

The only worthwhile way

In it they are most

Like God

+++

Jesus left Gennesaret and withdrew to the region of Tyre and Sidon. Then out came a Canaanite woman from that district and started shouting, ‘Sir, Son of David, take pity on me. My daughter is tormented by a devil.’ But he answered her not a word. And his disciples went and pleaded with him. ‘Give her what she wants,’ they said ‘because she is shouting after us.’ He said in reply, ‘I was sent only to the lost sheep of the House of Israel.’ But the woman had come up and was kneeling at his feet. ‘Lord,’ she said ‘help me.’ He replied, ‘It is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the house-dogs.’ She retorted, ‘Ah yes, sir; but even house-dogs can eat the scraps that fall from their master’s table.’ Then Jesus answered her, ‘Woman, you have great faith. Let your wish be granted.’ And from that moment her daughter was well again.

Matthew 15:21-28