I Believe

I believe in a God of Daybreak

Who impatiently rouses the dawn chorus

To gloriously proclaim a new day.

I believe in a God who ruffles leaves

And sends clothes snapping in the breeze

On whirligig washing lines.

A God whose breath is life itself.

I believe in a God lying with His head on my pillow,

Eyes wide, willing me to wake up to say ‘I love you’

In that first stirring breath of morning.

I believe in a God who sighs, laughs and cries

The day away at my side.

His presence always present.

Who catches my eye in racing clouds and dancing children.

Who fiercely wraps me in His wings when I need him

And sits bemused when I think I don’t.

I believe in a God who will let me fall

Only so that He can pick me up

And put me on the right path.

Who will shake out the mantle of night

And find a star for me to follow.

Who will call the Universe to a quiet ‘Amen’ at the end of the day.

Who closes my eyes with a soft kiss of Love

And guards my dreams with a white owl’s stare.

My love belongs to this Love.

To a God who believes in me.

wordinthehand2012

St Cuthbert

St Cuthbert's Feast Day seems the best of days to begin a Blog inspired by Celtic Spirituality. The island which was home and refuge and healing place to Cuthbert 1400 years ago is still a sacred space; whether for dedicated pilgrims or mainland refugees seeking peace and quiet. The promontory in the poem juts out from the tiny islet where Cuthbert found some solitude in his early ministry. So much to say about Cuthbert, Lindisfarne and the legacy of the Celts - here's a start - 

Cuthbert's Isle

Held in the palm of Your holy place

Fled from the gravity of daily life.

I perch on sun-warmed rock.

Heavy honeyed air is

Stirred by ancient breezes.

Almost beyond hearing

Seals sing Jacob’s mantra

‘Here I am’.

Poised on the promontory of faith

Sun and wind send their might against me.

And I stand, not bowed but exulted.

Fused to this place.

Sun Spirit,

Air Spirit,

Earth Spirit

Glorious Trinity of all You are.

Your breath on me is intoxicating, incisive,

Eroding pretence and artifice.

Leaving me standing bare boned

Before You.

Eyes closed against your crimson gaze.

Daughter to the island,

Sister to those gone before.

Here I am.

wordinthehand2012