On a strange spring
while we are
the temerity of daffodils?
wearing yellow to a funeral?
arriving rejoicing to a dirge?
they have earned their colours
knowing year on year
both death and resurrection
being born and lost and born again
for such a time as this.
(c) Andy McNeish
THE MOOSIE’S PRAYER
A puir wee kirk moose aa forlorn
Its furry coat fair sairly worn
Sank doon upon its bony knees
And prayed – for just a wee bit cheese.
The tears ran doon its wee thin cheeks
But nane could hear the saddest squeaks
That drifted on the cauld nicht air
Till whiles it couldnae pray nae mair.
Syn daylicht cam, the kirk bells rang
The doors swung open wi a bang
Communion Day had come oan by
Wi wine and plates o breid piled high.
The wee moose lay as still as daith
And watched it aa wi bated braith
Then thocht – “If I keep awfu quate
A bit might just fa aff a plate.”
And so it gazed as roond they went
Then just as tho’twas heaven-sent
Whit landed right upon its heid
But twa lumps o communion breid!
The staff o life layon the flair –
Then, bounteous answer tae his prayer,
Juist as he thocht, “It looks fell dry,”
Ae body couped some wine forbye!
Wee moosie stoated up the aisle
Wearin sic a boozy smile,
The folk stopped singin, fair aghast
Tae see a drunken moose walk past.
The organist fell aff his chair,
The meenister could only stare
Tae see this drunken, sinfue moose
Cavortin in his sacred hoose.
At last it staggered up the nave
Then turned an gied a happy wave.
“I ken noo when it’s time tae pray,
I’ll dae it on Communion Day!”
We met together,
Just a start.
We walk together,
Two metres apart.
We see each other - sharing.
We hear each other - caring.
We joined in prayer, as in a room.
God bless us all - and Zoom !
And the people stayed at home
and people stayed home
and read books and listened
and rested and exercised
and made art and played
and learned new ways of being
and listened deeper
someone met their shadow
and people began to think differently
and people healed
and in the absence of people who lived in ignorant ways
dangerous meaningless and heartless
even the earth began to heal…
and when the danger ended
and people found each other
grieved for the dead people
and they made new choices
and dreamed of new visions
and created new ways of life
and healed the earth completely
just as they were healed themselves
A Butterfly in the Pandemic
Today, a butterfly,
the first of the year,
caught my eye
emerging into Spring,
and brought me hope.
For you too, little one, have
been cocooned like us.
Your playmates gone,
wrapped around with silence
as you waited.
Could you have known how
beautiful you’d be
when you arose?
For you have grown
in trusting patience
to such a transformation.
So, may our fears
and broken dreams,
our flowing tears
for this world’s sorrow,
transform our hearts to deeper love
to live tomorrow.
Lyn McCrave 26th March 2020
Excerpt from To Bless the Space Between Us
John O’Donoghue (2008)
This is the time to be slow,
Lie low to the wall
Until the bitter weather passes.
Try, as best you can, not to let
The wire brush of doubt
Scrape from your heart
All sense of yourself
And your hesitant light.
If you remain generous,
Time will come good;
And you will find your feet
Again on fresh pastures of promise,
Where the air will be kind
And blushed with beginning.