A new chapter

  Don’t speak   Don’t speak    to me of authority Just whisper me the truth If it’s right, it’s right No need to quote the verse.  If it’s true, it’s obvious To anyone with an ear It’s convincing and it’s clear To him who wants to hear.  False prophets squeak in double speak Their lesson is not so simple We fail to grasp what they are at It’s hidden because it’s meant to.  Don’t buy a theory that’s opaque The good stuff shines so bright If they say it’s too clever for you Just leave it on the shelf.  The grandest theories are the simplest The soundest teachers make it easy Beware the snakes that sell their oil With smoke and muddled chants. 

  My body is a temple My body is a temple That’s slowly falling down  We had the wiring done Thirty years and some.  We’ve tried our best I’m sure To primp and crimp and paint Over cracks that let in the wind Over wallpaper that’s grey.  With pills for this and pills for that They form a tug of war Within my gut for no one knows What reacts with what.  So here I am with workmen Arguing what’s the most severe, The brain that’s rotting   in the roof,  Or the windows that need repair.  There is a chance they’ll knock it down And start from fresh anew  I’ll keep an eye from the other side Make sure the planning’s through. 

  Praise the Lord Praise the Lord who made the earth Inside the symmetry of a solar system Whose sisters number billions Across the mighty Milky Way.  He made our galaxy no orphan Arm in arm with cousin Andromeda One among  two  trillion galaxies And more we’ll never see.  On this blue planet he made man  Product of four billion years And countless starry nights Under an uncertain sky.  Begot of luck and skill Pure chance and a hand divine That chose this blessed corner To hear his story told  In song and verse and hymn Rising through the spires of churches Far and wide across the oceans The peoples came and prayed.  Now no longer time to praise the Lord, Sundays busy now with children’s games   The sound of praise has dimmed across the skies Empty churches lie vacant among the valleys.   Forgotten God becomes forgetting God He loses interest for they have too So alone they spin across the void upon their own Unsure, not knowin...

Sitting (Wexford) Sitting on a seaside wall Late in the season, privileged  Late afternoon as the autumn sun Shines down the sea-bound lane.   A little chill carried on a breeze That’s gentle but yet warning This precious moment cannot last More special for its passing.  Families weaving on their bikes The children are learning still These magic moments will remain Decades after they have gone their ways.  Happy to remain at the centre Of the moment - unwilling to escape To other sensations or walk on When all is in the here and now.  Living in the eternal hour Untroubled by the news That rouses nervous crowds - All things shall pass, I know.  The symmetry of a sound The magic of a raindrop Miracles that are too many For us to look around.  Blesséd in the moment Cherished by the grace High on the miracle In every baby’s face. 

  He never paid He never paid on bets he’d lost He only counted races he had won  He moved his ball at golf He cheated like a dog.  We appealed to many who forgave His many sins because he was worse than them A proven sinner yet he was their man He was their sinner and sink or swim with him.  It was his crimes that washed their sins It was his evil that made them good For Christ they said had come for fallen man And none more fallen than their hero.  He took their money and sucked them dry And moved town when nothing more was left He despised them when the curtains closed When their use to him was gone.  Every country has its fools  But none more supine than the folk Who sup with the devil and his ilk Expecting glory and heavens milk. 

  I am the universe  I am the universe and celebrate  Your victories big and small.  Your children are my children Your happiness my joy.  Your sorrows are my sorrows I suffer when you hurt My tears are mixed with yours Joy and sadness unalloyed.  The ego’s sublimated With the passing of the years The grasping hand has opened up To share with all that need.  The here and now recedes To take its place in history Our tiny lives find refuge  In the garment of eternity.  The village fields and houses Grow dim from outer space The miracles that shield us That guide us on our way.  And so the end becomes the start When our spirit’s free and sails Escapes the grave and dances To the rhythm that never fails.