.

Night has come

Outside the stars

.

Imaginary

Inside

.

Distant trains

.

Each room

Lit

.

.

sky

descent

.

one

by one

.

influx

eternal

.

pillars

cold

.

.

Eden

viewed

eternal stars

.

For my daughter Eve’s birthday

.

Kathexes is the thirtieth word

in the Gospel of Luke.

in order, in a sequence.

.

Celebrating my son Luka’s thirtieth birthday. His passion is mathematics.

.

Two walking, discussing

A stranger, unrecognised

Prophet, powerful in word

and deed, crucified

Tales of women, amazed

How foolish, suffered

entered glory

Stay with us

Took bread, broke it

Eyes open, disappeared

Were not our hearts

burning?

.

He stood on the shore

Friends, have you any fish?

Did not realise

Throw your nets

It is the Lord

Burning coals

fish and bread

None dared ask

.

Do you love me?

Feed my lambs

I lead you where you

do not want to go

Follow me

.

When did we see you

a stranger, unclothed, sick, in prison?

Whatever you did for the least,

You did for me

.

.

in darkness

you appear   

.

mirror

of

light    

.

breath

of

darkness   

.

autumn moon –

tabernacling  

.

no sound –

yet the sky

is not silent   

.

sign –

of heaven

and earth   

.

another consciousness

this night

within the sky  

.

the

falling

moon   

.

chiaroscuro –

the moon

the night

.

.

each night

the stars

.

.

Here she is

A couple of days’ old

Eyes open

The slightest smile

Like Mona Lisa

.

For my granddaughter, Sophia, born to Belinda Middlebrook and Jacob Carroll.

.

A curve of harbour

Below

Crisp light

Depths of history

Elemental

Fresh

Godliness

.

Here

I

Joined with my family

Kept

Love

.

My father at rest

Near

.

Oratory

Plain

Quiet

Religion

Silent

True

.

.

Certainly we are not what we are,

for solitude can make us more, and kindness –

for what we are is tempered by a star,

see, its holiness, shining high.

Impassible, and yet, each night a wind.

Spirit is spirit. Do not marvel. For I

was lifted up – that we be intertwined.

A kinship – humility that is unshy.

On Friday morning I waited in the rain.

I prayed, Havah, the mother of children.

My lips became warm. Without complaint

a waning moon relinquishes its light,

for as a grain descends, a baptism,

a starry multitude, night’s quietism.

.