
(Free Photo image. Image description: A view from above – looking down on a white table. A journal and pen and green plant rest on the table, in the top part of the image.)
A note: This is a unique poem – about writing itself. I will note that the reference to writing on the train (something I have found helpful/enjoyable when I’ve had the opportunity) – is a reference from experiences in the past – from before the lockdown restrictions in the UK.
Writing
Not exactly evening prayer
But listening to the Holy
As to strains of a hymn you know
Yet have never heard
A different type of collect
A kind of time to gather
Not stones, but ideas
This time
The gap in between
On the train
Or evening pause
The time after the going
The veil of day now past
Here gathered in
At the table
To unfold the hand
Of treasure-sparks
And breathe life into them
Seeing thought – catch flame
Seeing words – flow as form
So others can see
And feel the warmth
Beholding familiar
And new:
Revelation