Una hora menos

  I can stand the heat I can stand the heat no longer  Colors have been stonewashed by the light Leaving only blues and whites  Uncensored by the midday bright.  Lead me back to my own soft home Where rinsing rain tidies like a comb Where scrambled clouds keep alive a hope That change will come and come again.  Where sky and skyline change each day With shadows swapping by the hour Where sun is dappled and discreet Fresh complexions nod to our native skin.  A land where mists are soft and welcome Greet the stranger down the boreen The gentle soul is free to wander A nuanced land beloved and tender. 

  The very world is burning The very world is burning  The flames are mirrored  In the russet sunset And the early sunrise.  We are not wanted on this planet Which has decided that enough's Enough and now it’s time To move on from the Age of Humans. There is no mercy in the raging skies The heat is building up  The Middle East has no one left   To risk the midday sun.   Merry England, no longer merry  It’s fabled hills and valleys Burnt brown and yellow In a listless somnolence.  The world’s on fire And its choking citizens Seek shelter from the heat The planet blue’s turned orange.  The time for turning to the Lord Is now a long time passed The only thing that’s emerald now Are memories in the library.  Ad te clamavi dominum, Prayers float on the Levant wind The cathedrals now furnaces  Where faithful dare not enter.  Is this a rousing call to act? Or a solemn epitaph?  In the end all things shall pass All ...

  To pray for him To pray for him is to keep him In a golden glow while wishing All good things and happiness.  The freest of all acts and oft The best we can muster gently At all times and everywhere.  Distances are dissolved  With time and space compressed With wishes reaching everyone  Across the oceans and the ages Touching older generations And babies yet to come.  There is no limit to our prayer  That reaches here and everywhere Words are helpful but not needed We feel the flap of butterfly wings In far off Orient and smile For we have felt these Angel things.  Our prayers rise above the heavens  They travel through the galaxies Now and in eternity  Our evil thoughts are shorn  As they leave earth’s atmosphere  Leaving only grace and good alone.  We shall not forget. Because we cannot. 

  To do no harm To do no harm is all we can To travel gently as we live To tread as softly as we travel The pilgrim trail we all will follow.  We used to think our aims Would be achieved and winning Was the measure of success But we must now accept our limits.  To accept that despite best efforts The world is getting worse not better Our early pride now takes a beating  We must retreat, conserve our forces.  And yet along the pilgrim path We greet each day with joy The joy of here and now  No lofty plans for future days.  We stop and stare and drink the air Grateful for the present, unworried What next month might bring Just so happy in the moment.  Jesus said the poor shall be Among us sadly for eternity  Do our best and just move on There is a limit to our endurance.  Do what we can and then move on Shake off the dust as Jesus did Sit down at weddings and enjoy Both the wine and water.  

  To hope against the odds To hope against the odds our calling To carry on when light is failing To walk when the road grows steep To support the pilgrims as they sleep The dreamless sleep of voyagers Who hurtle through space far from Their first beginning and their origin Further, faster, stranger, longer.  To light a candle in the blackest space  To hold our nerve when all despair To refuse to yield to gnawing doubt To double down and see it out.  Getting dressed in pilgrim dorms Rise with the dawn and heading west Greet all strangers, brothers, sisters Moments of grace to remember. To walk on and march without knowing  Where our journey at last will bring us Embrace the moment, give without counting Yielding to joy with the angels.  The time for saving is now over  Giving and sharing without caring What is spent and what is remaining To arrive at the end without owning. 

  Half past four   Half past four in early June The birds are having breakfast They chatter and they chirp   And greet this day with courage.  All is joy in early June This morn a precious gift While dew lies heavy On the grateful grass.  All so simple yet so complex How this nature we take for granted Weaves magic on a misty morning The odds for this just too fantastic.  We sleep so soundly in four foot beds  That cling to earth than spins so proudly Around a sun on a path that’s yearly Through a Galaxy that’s moving swiftly.  And yet despite this movement  We are convinced of peace of place Happily ignorant of our flight thro space  Incurious as to how or where we travel.  It’s five o clock and all is silent The birds have made their early point  We turn in beds just four foot wide Three hours yet til we descend our side.