The plastic box contains a disjointed collection of fishing tackle: the aggregate of summer holidays, a tangle of failed temptations. Take out the plastic hand-lines and stack to one side. The cork hand-line is more interesting. It can sit on its own. A small box full of lead. Hefty. Dense. Held shut with a rapidly perishing… Continue reading Meditations on a Tackle Box
The Highwayman lies severed, cut down in the way, shorn from his mount. And the hand that did it rises trembling. And the eyes rise trembling to behold it To meet their accuser's eyes wide. And trembling. It was a rough deed, done with razorrrs Watched with glass, that razor-sharpt eye Done in a cold… Continue reading Elegy to a Beard
God is what we grieve the lack of, in all our griefs.
How is Jesus the Lord of the futures that never were?
The devastatingly short biography of a promise.
[For my mum, because I was thinking of her on Mother's Day] I don't know how many times my mother read the Pilgrim's Progress to me when I was young. It was certainly enough that the story has become part of how I process my experience of the Christian life. And that is precisely what… Continue reading Allegorical Interpretation