I tried to hide my wounds, my hurt, my distress -
was that from pride?
or an attempt to protect you from seeing how it really was?
or a desire to hold you at arm's length?

I was anxious to rise above it all,
to be one who would save you from yourselves
by leading you into new places in your experience
     of what it is to be church
     of who God is.

Were my expectations unrealistic?
of myself?
of you?
of God?

Did I fail you?
by not letting you see my pain
     for fear of distressing you?
                   or of appearing weak?
                   (or should that be 'human'?)
What have I done?
in giving 'us' no further chance?
by bidding you 'goodbye'?

Yet as I shared my heart
I do so again.

For did I fail you?   Did you fail me?
Truly, God failed neither you, nor me, nor us together.

We may no longer be together
but as God was so He is and will be.

Even in this He fails and will fail neither you nor me.

For as He had plans for us together,
so there are now plans for you and plans for me,
that you without me
and I without you
may each have a future and a hope
which will bring us together once more in eternity.

Lines written in Sheldon Woods on a Quiet Day in Autumn 2009

Listen, listen to the sound of silence……..

hear the tapping of the woodpecker and the distant hum of traffic
the sound of a falling leaf and birdsong in the treetops,
fallen leaves being crunched underfoot against the distant sound of chain saw and axe,
and leaves rustling in the gentle breeze.

See, see the deep blue of the autumn sky

the pattern of sunlight through the trees,
a daddy longlegs hovering over the grass,
the faint outline of the moon overhead in the afternoon sky,
a fallen tree and a blade of grass moving under the weight of a perching fly.

Smell, smell the freshness of the unpolluted country air,

the gentle mellowness of a still autumn day.

Feel, feel the wonder of God’s presence in all of this –

the joy and wonderment is a prayer far deeper than words could express.

Sensing the Passion

 Poignant the fragrance of love’s home:
Not putrid Lazarus, death-entombed,
Nor stove-aroma rich from one who served,
But Mary’s precious pungent perfume poured.
Feet washed, death death consumed.

Bitter the savour: memory’s feast,
Sour traitor’s morsel, couching sin;
Spurious loyalty in pride-chewed vow;
Wilderness death by freedom-tasting slave;
Bread, flesh; wine, blood; slave, king.

Strident the clamour: boot-black night,
Jeer-jangling mob: ‘Our will!’ Fear chill
Trampling through spirit-willing sleep, flesh weak;
Sword-whistle wound heard hard upon the ear;
Still, hear: ‘I Am. I will.’

Vivid the image: furnace fire
As cock-crow sears on stricken sight
Threefold, tear-tainted snap of stark remorse.
Exposed, abandoned flame-companion’s gaze.
Bright morning star; black night.

Flinching to feel, sawn splintered strut,
Spined circlet, steely-slivered nail;
Betrayal; gaol; flail; rich-robe arrayal;
‘Hail, King of Jews!’ Wine, stale. Life, frail, fail;
Last breath exhale; torn veil.

Kindle with Passion-sense dull flesh.
Roll free capped stone, trapped inward sight.
Unbind to scent, taste, sing the Passion-song,
To feel and long, with throng, alive and strong
Dark-journeying to light.

© Christopher Wilson 2008

Dark chocolate
"Formula-one" swifts
scythe between thatched barns
with urgent
piercing cries
and uncanny accuracy.

Nimble Nuthatch
wearily waits
while bickering Sparrows
jossle and flutter
around their peanut-caged feast.

Beyond Green Lane
Ten Acres is wide-framed by rich petalled buttercup
and
gusting winds comb slender grasses
into dancing waves
upward.

Prey-laden tallons of Buzzard
rise
from golden hayfield
stubble cropped,
to drop
silently
into Yonder Wood and St Anthony.

by Clive Laws. May 2006

True light
eternally shining
refracted through all our days

Kaleidoscoped
rainbow scattered
deep
into nature's heart.

Echoed music
from infinity
gives voice to Age-aching souls.

The river sings
passing otter-printed mud-flat bank

The trees rejoice
releasing their autumn offerings
silently.

The whale bursts ocean's surface
crash-splashing down
for sheer thunderous joy!

And all creation
joins the dance of the prodigal
as heavens gladness plays merrily on.

by Clive Laws December 2004

Following a workshop in which I had painted a picture of an outstretched hand, these words came to me as I sat in silence following the end of a service in the chapel...

After the Service

The candle's light extinguished
It's last breath of smoke swirls and rises
And as a man, they stand and leave.
Their service done.

Yet stay a while
And bathe in my presence
Stay a while and listen to my silence.
Now your words are done - I can speak.

In this house of prayer
I hold my hand of love before you
And beckon you to my embrace.
No need for words my brother
Some to enfold you in my grace.

A place ...

A place for peace
A place for rest
Away from all
that anxious stress

A place to be
A place to see
More of God's
great mystery

A place to recover
A place to be free
And to rediscover
the real me!

A place to think
A place for dreams
and to re-focus
on life's main themes

A place for those
whose burdens are great
And for those
who just need to escape

A place to be silent
A place to pray
And be refreshed
for another day

For Sheldon at 21 – July 2008

Let me show you a wonder
Stage you a play –
Setting is Devon
Well hidden away
Guarded by pot holes
Not easy to find!
The Title is “Sheldon” –
 A vision emerging
The Cast is eclectic –
It comes and it goes
The Producer is constant –
Allows for mistakes!
LOVE is his name
So listen to Him.

The set in the first Act –
Old farmhouse and barns
Stables and pig pens –
Shelter from storms
Safely providing for Creatures of God.

Enter the few –
Committed to finding
The will of the One
Who called Himself “Shepherd”
Gave His life for the flock
Calls us to abandon
All values but His –
Befriending and tending
Yet needing His friends.

The Second Act shows
Buildings adapting
Vision becoming.

Now enter those
Who follow a call
Commit to belonging
Not quite sure to what!

Then enter those shepherds
Ragged and weary
Needing care for themselves;
Too long neglecting
“Come aside by yourselves”
Made guilty by failure –
Needing accepting
Affirming in love.
Soul/body healing
Mary and Martha -
Friends of the Lord.

Others came too
To learn and to share
Giving, Receiving
Becoming – themselves

Who do we find then
Behind every scene?
Hidden Essentials,
Yet “No applause please!”

The generous giving of those who said ‘Yes’
‘Yes’ to the Cross – The cost of the healing
‘Yes’ to the vision – Hard work of sustaining
‘Yes’ to the tensions of Community living
‘Yes’ to the challenge of raising the money
‘Yes’ to the risk of daring to trust
In what they believe –
God’s will for this place.

And so in Epilogue:
    For all that has been – Thanks
              To all that will be – Yes
   And to God be the Glory
   To the Ages of Ages
                                                Amen