March 2019 Writing

Healing

My eye was dim like my heart, mind and body. Then the man with the sparkle in his eyes set them on me. The eyes and words penetrated into who I was.
Then the electric words did a bone scan on me. The nuclear energy infused every bone cell until I bounced on my feet. Thirty eight years of doom were dissolved in his words.
How beautiful are my feet that now bring good news!

© Rodney Dow
Kingdom Arts March 2019

Just One.

Look at me. Do not pass by.
I sit here year after year, hoping, praying but no one sees or hears.
I am invisible, but still I wait.
What did I do to be left helpless, ignored and lonely?
What do I have to do to be made whole?
Perhaps one day someone will stop and … and… I don’t know what, so I wait.
Another year and still I sit here, thirty eight years now.
Wait! Someone is talking to me.
He wants to hear my story. He listens.
I expect him to carry on by but he is telling me to stand up, roll away my mat and walk.

He has a way about him
I feel his strength and faith in me.
I will try to do what he says.
Do I have the strength and trust in him?
What is the worst thing to happen, people will still walk by and I will still wait.
But it happens, I can stand
Try gingerly on one foot then the other.
I am walking!
I look to thank him but he is gone.

Just one person noticed me, listened to me had faith in me.
Just one
I will try to be that one for someone else, because it only takes one.

©Pam Summers
Kingdom Arts March 2018

 The Man at the Pool

The seed in the desert
When will rain fall
Or dew drops start growth

The homeless all lost
Cold shivering damp
Will warmth revive the hopelessness

The beaten wife
Humiliated bruised unloved
Can refuge restore

The shunted child
From home to home
Who will give hope

He was by the pool
Thirty eight years
All belief gone

Jesus came by
The right touch and word
The man walked

Do we sit and wait
Tomorrow will do
The effort too great

Problems paralysing one
Voices sickened
Buried grief

But Jesus was there
He gave the man a chance
A fire was lit

He believed he tried
Supported by Jesus
Washed with the Holy water

We too can make that walk
Never alone
Upheld by Jesus throughout life

© Helen Mc Nicholl
Kingdom Arts March 2019


Waiting by the pool

Years I lay there by the sheep gate pool waiting to be healed.
In the beginning I had such belief and determination to be healed and that sustained me.
I tried so many times to get to the water when it fomented.
Years of failure followed as I lay there; no one to help me.
Sadness overwhelmed me; bitterness grew in my heart, in despair I turned away from God.
Years of self-neglect as courage and strength ebbed slowly as if with each stirring of the pool all hope was washed away, until the stranger spoke.
“Do you want to be made well?”
Did I? No one had asked me that before
Oh to be restored!
Feelings of profound despair, rejection, self-loathing were gone.
“Stand up”
His compassion filled me with such a surge of well-being; I knew I could!
“Take up your mat and walk”
My new life had begun.

© Barbara Rolison
Kingdom Arts March 2019

Waiting

I have been waiting in this waiting room of life for so long and I think it is making me sicker, angry frustrated and helpless.
I am waiting, hoping, listening to the water, bubbling, stirring, washing over others.
Not me though, never me.
Can’t move
Paralysed by fear, failure, mistakes, guilt, regrets, rejection………self-pity
Year after year, wasted years just lying here
Others given up on me, no one to help me reach this water of life
Thirty eight years of waiting…. for what? for whom?
Who sees me when they look at me what do they see?
I am overlooked, without healing I am doomed to stay here
I started with faith, but the long years eroded that and I am stuck in negative thoughts chaining me down.
The water stirs and within another chance for hope the waiting is taking my life
When you see me and speak directly to my soul
What are you waiting so long for?
All I can say is the familiar rhythm of words that have grown through the years.
No one to help me, someone else gets there before me, never me, I am paralysed.
True statements but in front of him they now sound weak, like me.
Have I become too comfortable in my excuses?
Have I stopped believing?
Doesn’t he understand waiting is so hard?
“Stand up take up your mat and walk.”
I hear the words and begin to make my excuses.
“Get up, Get up, Get UP”
And I feel the river of life stir in my limbs and I move.
Thirty eight years and I begin to move! The waiting is over.
His words are the water of life flowing over me.

© Shefali Hollis
Kingdom Arts March 2019

February 2019 Writing

Living Water

Your first sip of water after an operation
Or giving birth
Or running a Marathon

Bathing a new-born baby
Having come from water the bath is a happy place for a baby

Backache getting into a warm bath of water
Perhaps with colour scented bubbles?

Going to the loo
A luxury!

Thank you Lord

© Janet Hastings

Living water?

I am dry.
In the wilderness of loss and grief
Finding life hard to swallow, let alone water
The streams of life have dried up from within.
You say drink; you offer and invite me to come

Living water you say
Can it reach the areas in me that have dried
That have become like waste places
Can Hope be restored?
The insides of me echo a barrenness and I feel a light smouldering and in danger of going out.

Living water you say
It has the sound of many seas that once flowed but have now ebbed and not returned.
Is this living water greater than our Sacred River Ganges?
Mother Ganga, that gives life to all who step into her waters and drink of its source
Once flowing pure from the mouth of the Himalayas and now polluted.

Is your living water from a stream that is pure?
Untainted.
Will it touch the pools of sadness and turn them into blessings which others can drink?
Will I live again?
Different, changed but alive.

Show me how to drink.

© Shefalie  Kingdom Arts February 2019

Water

The source of our flowing rivers, with small bubbling beginnings
Beneath our scorched challenging deserts, refreshing cool canals of water
Our deep needful frightening wells needing containers and pulling force
Water to replenish our human forms
Some having plenty, others crying out in need

Lord you know our needs
Fill us with your spiritual water
However small our beginnings
Or hard or frightening our lives
Needing no bucket or pulley
Washing our inner beings clean
Receiving our souls with joy
Giving hope and power to our praise
Bathed in everlasting faith

© Helen McNicholl

January 2019 Writing

Baptism

Baptism
A new life
Changing habits
Sins forgiven
New life
Cleanse away the old life

Water
Washes me clean
Jesus brings the water of life
Flowing freely for all

Candle
Baptismal candle
Light of the world
Pure clear light
Jesus the light

© a writing group member


Our Salvation

He came to us
Within the animals warm shelter
Surrounded by deep love
Adored by humble shepherds
And forecasting noblemen
Gifts, He absorbed within his being
In waiting to pour upon us
He grew in understanding and readiness
Readiness to be both man and spirit
With the cleansing invigorating water
Flowing from John’s hands
And the blessing of reassurance from God
May we lift our hands in thankfulness
For this outpouring love
And continual resurrections
To feel that flow of blessed water
And life-giving Holy Spirit
Through all our journeys
In this life and the next.

© Helen McNicholl


Rebirthing

Oh Lord you sent your Dove and in descending
In a flash of understanding
You revealed the Holy Spirit
And gently touched my soul
I was reborn

©Barbara Rolison


Water and Creation

A guiding star leads the way
To the cradle in the stall
There a new born baby lay
Created with water
Born of water
Growing to manhood
Then baptised with water
God proclaiming to the world “my beloved son”
Filled with the Holy Spirit
Water of life wash over me
Sparkle thro’ my being
Cleanse me and create me anew
Watch the water fall over my face
Catching the rainbows beams
Water dancing in a myriad of colours
Water so necessary in creation

God’s Holy Son
Leads our way
Into prayer thro’ the waters of the river of life
To dream, to praise, to give thanks to be filled with the Holy Spirit in our turn
Called into “being” by water
Called to be caretakers of the waters of our world
Called to embrace the life giving powers of water
Called to be swept into life in the middle of the river of life
Called into worship of our creator

© Jenny English


 

December 2018 Writing

Crackers

Let us pull our crackers with joy,
Lord may our loud bangs stop live battles for ever.
The spilling gifts as of old, echo joys our children long for.
Remembering gifts of shepherds and kings,
Foretelling the saviour’s future and our salvation.
Hats to make merriment tousled hair and helping us smile.
Riskiness of puzzles to stretch our brains, and bring forth laughter.
But the longed for treasure is within God’s hands,
Growing layer upon layers years go by
The pearl we seek and treasure through life everlasting.

© December 2018 Helen McNicollMavis


Advent

Waiting for God’s only son
Knowing he’s a Special child
Choosing Nazarene maiden Mary
Telling Joseph

Summoning to Royal David’s city
Bumping along the trodden pathways
Pleading for a resting place
Birthing a boy

Blinding Angels in a mass
Lighting up the hillside, shepherds knew
Hastening they came to see
Glorifying God

Guiding the star shone
Searching for the new born King
Worshipping the Christ Child
Seeking Peace

© December 2018, Barbara Rolison


Heaven’s Herald

If no news is good news, then tell me, why does bad news travel fast?
If strength of souls is unity; then have we love that has to last.
If comfort is the warmth of hearts, in harmony with joy:
Or healing are the words of truth, no labour can employ.
Then LORD please send word of your truth, your promise and your plan:
That every woman, man and child can grow and stand, beneath your crown.
Your Kingdom Come, on Earth be done,
The will of what was with Your Son.
Your will on Earth be done.

© December 2018, John Pugh


The Shells Story

Sitting on the bottom of the ocean floor
Moving with the waves, who are moved by the wind,
Changing direction in the currents of the world.
My shell opening just a little to take in the nutrients.
Oh Wow! What is this, grit !! I struggle opening and closing my shell
I am unable to get rid of it and it will make a sore place.

Rolling it in the silk of my membrane makes it smooth and round.
After months of rolling it has become smooth and hard,
When the shell opens with the tide it gleams in the light,
Illuminating my inside and the ocean floor,
My shell grows to accommodate the shining,
I hear voices from divers, they are talking about pearls,
“Pearls of great price”

Is this what I have become, a shelter,
A shell that creates, moves with the forces of nature,
Providing a thing of beauty, gracing those who walk in the world.

Creation given for all, creating something new,
Revealed for those who choose to look and feel, and to reflect light
To change into the pearl of great price.

Advent

Winter dark and still
Stark black branches and twigs.
Standing against the blue , blue sky.
Late winter blooms fading and changing,
Early spring bulbs peaking through brown earth.
Colouring creation, colouring our lives.
Things hidden in secret
Seeds in the dark earth,
Cold and damp breaking that shell of new life,
Waiting, waiting, waiting.

Jenny


 

November 2018 Writing

The Lord said build upon rock

The Lord said build upon rock
The rock is strong, the house will be safe
The winds will blow and howl
It will pour rain in sheets
But he house is still safe

The foolish man builds his house on sand
The winds will blow and howl
It will pour rain in sheets
The waves will pour over the sand
The house will collapse, there is no house anymore.

This is a well-known story told by Jesus
All about sensible and foolish people
It makes you think about life and how to live it
Children love this story; I hope it tells them something about life
I know it did when I was young.

© Mavis


Come Gather (A Rap)

You’ll go far, sing my songs-
And I’ll let you help me
Run my bar! Move ya feet
Put a finger on the buttons
Meet and greet/ strummin’ and drummin’
Will lift up right you outta your seat

RAP ll
When two or three
Or more than four
Come greet us
Anytime now, before
The sun shines through
That open door, or
Morning, evening, afternoon, goodnight
Still can’t ignore/ the law of love/light

Or else you’ll be sitting
On a house of straws
Like way back when
In days of yore,
The poor man put his Faith in store,
And built his house to weather the storm.

© John Pugh


The Sure Foundations

He came to strengthen foundations
On ground firm and strong
Reinforces with Holy rules
Cemented with love and hope mixed with forgiveness and understanding.
Ready for us to build from the Lord’s plans
With hearths of warmth and welcome
Ever open doors
Rooves to shelter pain and despair
Windows to let in Nature’s beauty
Let us not move to weaker places with shifting sand
With crumbling supports overwhelming our faith.
Lord help us to ever build on your foundation.

© Helen McNicholl


Founded on Rock

The raging wind and crashing waves
The violent screaming storms of life
Cannot destroy your fragile house
If you are founded on the rock

The faithful rock is strong and sure
And won’t break or let you down
Even in wildest tempest’s roar

The rock will stand when all else shatters
Fall apart and scatters
Eternity is in his hold. He is firmly holding you
In time the sands are washed away
But His foundation’s strong and true.

Don’t build your life on worthless sand
On popularity or health, on fading beauty, fame or wealth

These grains will trickle through your grasping hand
Trust in his love, to bring you fruitful life
His endless care, to help your small house stand.

© Ruth McMaster


 

October 2018 Writing

A prayer for my son

God, I know that you are listening always.
I pray for my precious son, now so far away amongst strangers in unknown lands and facing who knows what?
Keep him safe I pray
I miss him, I long for his return and I fear for him.
God, help him!
He is young, unwise and thinks he is invincible, but I fear he will lose all he has and be hungry, homeless and in despair.
Protect him I pray.
Surround him with your love wherever he is.
Hold him close as I long to do. Help him to know my love for him is also unending and I will be here waiting for him.
Please God
Show him the pathway home.

© Barbara Rolison


The Prodigal’s return

The sheep peer through the cracks in the wall.
A man walks down
Unsteadily
The lane stones hurt his feet
Thorns remind him painfully of his despair
Mournfully the sheep turn their back as they slowly munch in the evening sun.
Shadows fall across the path.
A distant cry
Running feet
Calls, shouts
The man falls to his knees as his strength fails
He manages to speak the words he had rehearsed over and over
Would he
Retribution?
Revenge?
But No! His remorse was met by loving reconciliation.

© Christine Allen


A Prayer for forgiveness

Father
Help me to remember your example when I am faced with difficult situations.
It is sometimes so difficult to quell the anger and see the good in all people.
I find forgiveness one of the hardest things to do, especially when it is someone who is hurt by the person I should forgive.
Please be in my heart as I juggle the emotions vying for attention.
Ensure that your loves shines through and enables me to offer heartfelt forgiveness as you do to all.
Amen

© Sue Cottam


 

September 2018 Writing

The Parable of the Sower:-

Nothing is Lost.

The sower spreads His seed
Some in deserts dry and barren,
But cracks and hidden streams embrace blown seeds
To bloom again
In colours rich and deep

Some among thistles thick and choking
Thorns to tear you apart
But bursting seeds
Fly to the sky, caught by the hungry birds
Hope for new life

The path may be long and hard
With missing signposts
And full of human pain and blood
But the wind of the Holy Spirit knows where to blow
Keeping the everlasting seed growing

© Helen McNicoll


Silent

Silent are the ancestors who owned the field in Galilee.
Silent are the words of the inheritor, the sower with the seed.
Silent are the arms that scatter with aspirations so high.
Silent is the village hope for rain from the sky.

Silent are the thorns, sharply defending their ground.
Silent are the stones, stubborn and stationary on the mound.
Silent are the paths that offer an easy way out.
Silent are the greedy birds, pecking grain, no doubt.
Silent is the second when the seed meets earth.
Silent is the germination that brings each seed to birth.
Silent is the intensity of heat from the sun,
scorching the saplings which wither and burn.
Silent is the stealth of thorns that choke plants in their prime.
Silent is the dead greenery, lying shallow in a line.
Silent is the relationship between farmer, seed and soil.
Silent is the farmer’s sweat whilst he continues to toil.

Listen, can you hear? The sounds of life being shown?
Even in the thorns and stones, love can be known.
Listen to the miracles of change at every stage.
Listen to the birds that spread the seed from age to age.
Listen to the seed just sown and to saplings growing high.
Listen to the life cycle from seed to flourishing vine.
I grow seeds of peace, blooms of joy and blossoms of love,
I harvest gentleness, patience and goodness from above.
I live in each human heart, in every woman and man.
I offer again my counsel, a counsel that only a loving God can.
Listen, simply listen, to that loving voice inside.
Those branches are from the seed I planted.
Ask me again to be your guide.

© Frances Burton, September 2018


The Scorched Earth

Oh Lord what have we done
We have destroyed good and fertile soil
We have burnt the life out of the land
And have laid it bare and barren
And yet

And yet we look, and see, the wonder of your creation
Creeping along the burning soil we see shoots of green
Seeds that have been scorched now ready for germination
The Lord sees roots seeking moisture and goodness
Small shoots reaching for light and warmth.
And yet

The soil is thin and stoney, dry and poor
What have we done, what have we created.
But look, we can repent and start again
Till the soil, water the land and allow
Creation to flourish in your name.

© Jenny English


During the morning, David New displayed a mosaic he produced some years ago based on the Parable of the Sower . . .

 

. . . and whilst working on the design of origami birds for one of the activites, David also composed the following poem:

The Sower

Had it not been for you
Birds would have eaten
Every seed.

You touch our hearts
But we think
It’s a rush of blood.

You call us by name
But we say
“It’s all in the mind.”

We had a moment when time stood still
When we heard our baby’s first cry.

There was the moment
At the crossroads.
We called it
A lucky escape.

You came but we did not know it
But now we sense your presence.

Yes, you covered the seed
You waited till we understood

How your heavenly Spirit
Interpenetrates
Our earthly world.

One hundredfold
You bless us.

David New


 

June 2018 Writing

Jesus calms the sea:-

On the fifth day God created the sea.

On the fifth day God created the sea
It was filled with goodness
Tides ruled by the moon
Changing colour and moods
Inspiring man to travel the waves
As Jesus and his disciples moved
Across the lake in the evening
Then the great gale arose
Fear spread and gripped the swamped boat
Waves rose up like angry monsters
Echoing voyages of Celtic Saints, valiant fishermen and lifeboat heroes
And the cries of searching, hopeful boat people
But Jesus was there in all our lives
He calmed the seas, bringing peace
May we shed our fears, shattered dreams and grief
Lay them at his feet
And bathe in tranquil hopeful waters

© Helen, June 2018


Swamped no more!

In times when I am swamped by worries
By circumstances where I feel overwhelmed
When waves of despair hit hard and I
Am drowning in life itself
There is a moment when I may be overcome
But I am stilled and calm; my mind in quiet prayerful contemplation
I become aware of Christ; he is within me and without.
In that instant faith is renewed I am restored

© Barbara Rolison, June 2018


 

April 2018 Writing

Everyone was focusing on practical craft work this month. however, David New has contributed a poem he wrote a little while ago:

The Wedding in Cana.

We are getting ready for
The Love Feast of the Lamb.
So let the water of your living pour
Into the waiting jars.
He’ll take your sighs and tears.
He’ll take your cracked endeavours, but
Most of all your heart’s confession that
You cannot do without him.

David New 2013