The flame dies,
The candle goes out,
Everything has its season,
Things and people come and go,
Without any reason,
We search in vain for something that lasts,
We feel our grief and loss,
As the darkness enfolds us
We open our hearts
And find one true lasting light,
Taking us into the future


Just in case I don’t manage to get in later, a VERY HAPPY NEW YEAR to all my lovely WordPress friends and fellow Bligfers. Let’s make it a goid one. Just thinj – alk those LOVELY blanj, whute, innocent pages to filk with WORDS. You can imagne ANYTTHING! Whatever you want in the coming yearm GO FOR IT!

Serioysly thoygh, I do wish you all a wonderful New Year.
Lots of Love, Lorraine xxxx


As 2019 dawns, (well almost!) new paths are there for us to take. Even if only in our minds

Paths stretch
In front of me,
Now I have reached a plain,
Wide open space, a new path calls
“Come now,
The scenes
Here are different, and now, once more,
I will lead you, follow
The voice that calls,
Come child.”


I dream
Tonight of light
As yet unseen to shine
Into the unknown tomorrow
The gate
To a new world shining with stars
To guide us on our way
Pierce my darkness

In dark
I see more light
Of a different kind
Only visible to my soul
I see
With eyes
Wide open to another realm
A shining place to be
Alone I sing
My songs

SWIMMING, for Linda Hill’s Stream of Consciousness Challenge

I lustened to the radio, and from the first sentence that I heard, I took the word “Swimming.” Here is what came steaight out!

When the going is rough
And the rough is in the going
Take me ih tide
To a better place
But first let me ride the waves
Tread on the stones
That sharpen my wit
And strengthen my resolve
And lead me to calmer shores
Where I can eat and enjoy
The fruits of my labour
Lie in the sun
And savour the delights of heaven


The fog
Has gone, the dark
Has come, I walk, stumbling,
But find to stumble is to know
The joy
You hold
For me in the darkness, embrace
The darkness my dear friend
Better than light
It glows

In the darkness
Are the richest fine seeds
Let them grow, do not run away,
God dwells
In dark
Let it embrace you now, fear not,
Step out of your safe boat,
And you will walk
The Deep


I posted this last year but want to post again. Time fascinates me.

The world is in motion
Nothing still
As the Dance goes on
Forming patterns like the crystals of a snowflake
Painting pictures
Creating stories
Is there really a time for everything
Or is everything in its time?
And is there a difference?
Soon, time will be no more
The Dance will end
As eternity calls
The picture will be complete
But how will the story end?
As eternity calls
A new book will be opened
A book called “The Book of Life”
And in this book
A day will be like a thousand years
And a thousand years like a day
And here, there will be no endings
Or even beginnings
For time will be no more
In a life that is eternal


The truth dark though
It is, it is real life
Is not all life valuable
Though maimed
And torn
Honey coated words do not help
Illusions cannot live
Long in a heart
Pain is

My God
Why have You gone
Is what His Son once cried
Can you behold the pain of Him
Who knew
Many live in the deep darkness
That covers the whole land
Away you run
In fear

Is there
Not one to hold
Your hand in the darkness
Walking beside you patiently
The truth
Through your pained eyes in deep waters
Let us walk together
Through flood and fire
My friend


As I stand before You, I kiss Your feet,
In that blessed moment we are one,
In suffering sore we now each other meet

In the darkness of our grief we the other greet
Yet in the midst we sing our heartfelt song
As I stand before you I kiss Your feet

This darkness shines with light in scorching heat
Searing my soul , the fire of love burns up all wrong
In suffering sore we each other meet

Oh joy unspeakable that nought on earth can beat
My Love and I join with the happy throng
As I stand before You I kiss Your feet

One day I will take my glorious seat
In that New City where I shall belong
In suffering sore we each other meet

So let me cleave to You my Love so great
Until my time on this dark earth is done
As I stand before You I kiss Your feet
In suffering sore we each other meet


As we move gradually into 2019 I am struggling with my sight more and more, and it is interfering with my abilty to read and post. However, here is a piem that I write a little while ago. Again, it is on the thene of lught and dark, and what TRUE sight is.

When you think you have lost the light
And the darkness envelops you
Remember that once you had sight

When the arms of the dark hold you tight
And there’s nothing that you can do
When you think you have lost the light………

……..the pain of the darkness may bite
You’re not sure how you can get through
Remember that once you had sight

The sight of the eyes was not quite
The sight that your heart led you to
When you thought you had lost the light

You saw in the dead of night
With a clarity given to few
Remember that once you had sight

Let not the dark you afright
For it taught you to see anew
When you think you have lost the light
Remember that once you had sight

#FOWC, FORMIDABLE. Everest Calling

“They look so cuddly,” Helen said to Rick as they drove along the main road from Ambleside to Keswick.

FOWC with Fandango — Formidable

This was Helen’s first visit to the Lake District. A visit which Rick had been trying to get her to make for a long time. Ever since they had started going out together, at Christmas 1967, Rick had talked incessantly of the joys of camping – something which Helen had not been totally convinced of.

“Oh it’s wonderful to be lying beneath the stars with only a bit of canvas between you and the sky:” Rick had eulogised. He was on a hard sell, attempting to lure her into the romantic (or so he thought) experience of camping. Helen had not been convinced. But she was in love!

Rick had been given to her as a Christmas present by her best friend, Barbara, who had decided that Helen was far better suited to Rick than she was.

“He smokes,” she had complained. “And anyway I’m fed up with listening to Joan Baez.”

Secretly, Helen had been jealous of Barbara, when Rick had taken her to a live concert of Joan Baez. Barbara truly did not seem to appreciate what a gem she had in Rick. But something must have told her that actually, Helen would be much better for him. And so, one evening, she invited Helen to join them on a night out at the flicks. “A Man For All Seasons” was the film on offer that night, and, in the abandonment of the moment, Rick had taken the girls, one on each arm, delightedly to the cinema. Not that Helen was especially interested in the film. No, it would bore her out of her mind, but it was worth it to be near Rick, even though he belonged to Barbara. Not that Helen would have wanted to try to steal Rick from Barbara. No, that would never do!

It was obvious, on that evening out, that Helen got on with Rick far better than Barbara did, and so, on Christmas Eve, Barbara presented Rick to Helen as a Christmas present. There was no angst. Barbara declared that she had her eye on Stuart anyway, and was about to give Rick the push. Rick was delighted. He had had a growing affection for Helen, and so everyone was happy.

It was a true love affair between Helen and Rick, and soon they were married. Rick never stopped talking about how incredible camping was, and in the end, Helen, with feelings of misgiving, had given in. Her first night under canvas was quite a shock to her. All she could hear was cows mooing in the field next to the camp site, and the water running in the nearby brook. She had not contemplated just HOW close to nature they would be. But strangely, and to her surprise, she loved it.

And so it was that there they were, that day, driving along the road, with hills on either side. And yes, they DID look cuddly! Helen was intrigued by the walkers who were to be seen EVERYWHERE, clad in God knows what, looking as if they were about to climb Everest! And suddenly, this was something that she HAD to know about. Not only were the hills cuddly but they were mysterious. And so it was that one day found Helen and Rick climbing Helm Crag near Grasmere. But that was it! After that, Helen was hooked! Never one to miss out on a challenge, and being quite curious, Helen vowed that one day they would climb Scafell Pike, the highest mountain in the Lake District. Not exactly Everest, but that, in Helen’s mind, might be next on the list.

It was not really planned. They had looked at the various routes up Scafell Pike, one of which looked rather FORMIDABLE. But it was deemed to be the best route for spellbinding views. The walking was not said to be easy, but it WAS the quickest route up the mountain. Over and over again Helen imagined herself climbing it. What an achievement it would be if she could do it. But there were many warnings to be heeded. You had to have the right kind of gear, carry a whistle, and be generally prepared for trouble! But on this particular morning, in the beautiful Spring sunshine, Helen and Rick set off with a vague notion that they might that day climb Scafell Pike. They decided that they could set off, along the route, and just see how far they got. Helen had packed lunch, and their two dogs were raring to go.

True to what they had read, the going was rough, right from the very beginning. Walking certainly was not in it. It was climbing. Up a rugged terrain. Rocks on which there seemed to be no footholds. But they had been warned!

Eventually they reached a more comfortable, grassy climb, and there was no way now that they could give up. Exhausted, they came to the final push, which consisted of a boulderfield, where the huge boulders wobbled as they put their feet on them. Many a climber had sprained their ankles here, as they made their way up the mountain.

Helen began to think they would NEVER make it. But then they were there, with the summit cairn in view. With a vreat effort, they finally reached the top. They had conquered this seemingly formidable mountain. Helen felt as if she had climbed Everest. But now, they had to make their way all the way down again. It was almost worse going down than going up! Finally, they feached the bottom – it had taken eight hours there and back, in all! Four hours was what most people did it in, but inexperienced as they were, they took so much longer.

Helen became with a deep desire to take up mountaineering properly, and indeed, it was her intention to one day climb Everest. Sadly, it never happened. Her walking days were cut short by a severe and cruel cancer that took both her anility to walk, and her eyesight. Upon sharing her deepest desire with the chemo nurse, Helen was told, “THIS is your Everest now.” And indeed it was – and still is. Every bit as dangerous, and every bit as formidable as ANY mountain.


Yesterday I was in a spaceship! Yes, you heard it right. I was in a spaceship!

There we were, in our usual place – the place where we go every afternoon. It is a very isolated place. We sit by an old wooden bridge that goes over a brook, and listen to the birds. It feels very wild, especially when what seems to be thousands of rooks fill the field, and start cawing. It happens every night, just around sunset. They fly in, gather in the field, sit cawing fairly gently for a while, and then quite suddenly they all fly off together in one big black cloud, making enough noise, it seems, to wake the dead. It is quite a phenomenon. We know that they are going home to roost.

Yesterday, we were sitting there in our car as usual. It was a dreary, rainy day. All around us, Christmas was happening. But we are in a different world. We have chosen to abscond from Christmas. Firstly, our health cannot deal with it, and secondly, it has such terrible memories and associations for me that I prefer to forget it, as much as possible.

It felt strangely eerie yesterday. There were we, in our own world, disconnected from all that was going on around us. A peaceful world. Alone with nature. But suddenly, my husband saw a strange sort of light in the sky, on the horizon. Well, actually, it was kind of just a vague lightning of the sky. He could not work out what it was. It happened a few times. By now, it was almost completely dark.

Mystified, we decided it was time to leave. My husband started up the car’s engine, and drove very very slowly around in a huge circle, to get us positioned to set off up the long narrow road that leads to the nearest village. Quite suddenly, I felt I was in a spaceship. I could see nothing. No trees, no landmarks, no roads, NOTHING . I was just aware of the movement of the car, and I felt as if we were setting off in this huge spaceship!

I am blessed. I can see nothing. I cannot walk. But I get to be in a spaceship.

Happy Christmas everyone. And may alk your spaceships be merry.


Everyone worrying
Joining queues
Walking the mews
Hearing the news
What’s it about?
What’s the great shout?
Has it really got clout?
Depends what you see
Whether you can be free
Someone said “Follow me”
Born in a stable
Not really able
To have a nice cradle
In life He was homeless
Walking in a wilderness
Didn’t have a good Press
Died on a wooden Cross
To make good our loss
His suffering was gross
That’s what it’s all about


After the light,
The dark Church
Outside, the sky red
With the blood of suffering,
Still the crucified ones cry out,
The Babe with the cross in His hands
Lies in the manger
The light shines on in the darkness
The sunlight plays on the altar
Then rests on the Cross


Are you silent now,
Pondering things in your heart?
It is the way of things,
Carrying so much,
Not just the child,
But all that is to be born from you,
As you stand waiting
In silence,
There is within a fluttering
That turns into a Dance,
Yet your silence knows
That one day will be born
A Child with a Cross in His hands,
Too heavy in time to carry,
You watch Him stumble and fall,
And only you
Can help Him to carry it now,
Within your womb,
Knowing that even as He is placed on that Cross
His Spirit will dance through His suffering
Transforming the pain
Of the whole wide world


The tree is stripped now,
Ready to rest,
After giving of its all,
Now it stands there in its stark beauty,
Exposed, bare,
Now no birds can feed,
Nor rest hidden in its leaves,
It has nothing to offer,
Except its stillness,
Its quietude,
Saying, “I’m still here,
But my surface beauty has gone,
I no longer hold secrets within,
All that I am you can see,
Yet in my starkness is my real beauty,
For it speaks the truth,
In sharpness,
In directness,
Now you see my essence,
That still through the cold and the dark,
Will survive,
And with my strength,
One day I will bear leaves again,
And fruit aplenty,
Give of my abundance,
And like me,
You too will survive,
And bear fruit in abundance,
But now is the time to rest,
Just rest,
And you will be revived.”


I sit on the edge of light before dawn
Feeling a growing prayer deep in my heart
Over the years gone through many a storm
As light dawns I know it could be the start
Of the end of the darkness holding me
Closing my eyes to the glorious light
The beauty of nature surrounding me
Long and hard I have fought this dark night’s fight
But now I greet with joy this brand new day
Knowing light will flood my world, dispel dark
At the edge of the dark my Lord I lay
My hopes and dreams, my fate emotions stark
I wait here on the edge of light, Your will
Be done, nature joins my prayer, silent, still


See now, the grey turn to silver
Threads in dark winter’s night,
The promise of golden days ahead
When summer’s sun my soul will warm

Threads in dark winter’s night
Paint a picture in the trees
When summer’s sun my soul will warm
The picture will come to life

Paint a picture in the trees
Though winter’s cold my soul does chill
The picture will come to life
As the earth moves round to face the sun

Though winter’s cold my soul does chill
Soon the thickening ice will melt
As the earth moves round to face the sun
The picture becomes complete

Soon the thickening ice will melt
And I will dance in summer’s sun
The picture becoming complete
As grey turns to silver then to gold



One night
I heard eternity calling
You came to me
In robes of green and gold
“I’m going home”
I said
And our smiles joined as one
What joy was in that moment
As you read to me about green pastures,
Still waters serenaded me with their silence,
As I moved towards the Great Banquet
A Feast spread before me
Oh what joy did fill my heart that night
This was the moment I had always waited for
You anointed my head with oil
Deep called to Deep
Gently I felt myself slipping
Into waters so pure
Around me I heard voices,
The saints who had gone before me
Who had run the great race
Their gentle strength surrounding me
Lifting me to heaven
That night I saw into eternity
And lived


Yesterday we went to an isolated farmyard in which stands an ancient stone church. I have spoken of this place before, in my Blog. I go there for peace and to try to gain some equilibrium in the trials of my life. It is normally a very beautiful, if wild, place. The wind always seems to be roaring there, even in the summer.

Yesterday, however, my whole being felt broken and assaulted. I wonder if you would have felt the same? Please read on to find out what happened

I went into the church just to sit for a while, and to check that the ancient light stand that I bought for them was still in ifs right place ready for the Peace Light event that is to take place thus evening. I did not stay long as it was very cold in there. But as I opened the door of the church, to leave, suddenly there were very loud shots from very close by. Frankly, it scared me. They were far too close.

I realised that it was a pheasant shoot that I was hearing. The shots were such that I can hardly descrube them. They sounded almost rabid to me. So many all at once from many guns. And so loud.

I felt very afraid because I have heard of shooting accidents, and I knew that they should not be shooting so close to the church and the public road where my husband was waiting in his car. So, I drove e my power chair as fast as I coukd down the long path from the church to the road.

As I rode, the shots seemed to get even louder and more rabid. There was obviously a determination to get as many birds as possible. I imagined the enjoyment that these shooters were having.

I eventually reached the car, and I got in. My hysband said,

“Look at that. They’re shooting straight across the road.”

Of course, I could not see, but he described to me everything that was happening.

I felt horrified. Yet of course this is a farming area, and I know full well that at this time of the year, there will be many shoots.

In this case however, it was the way in which they were doing it that shattered me to my core.

We were totally unable to leave the church for about half an hour, since it was too dangerous to drive along the road with them shooting across the road.

Eventually they finushed, and the dogs were collecting up the hundreds of shot burds. Beautiful pheasants and ducks.

I felt sickened. My husband described them driving past us in a kind of bus thing, with a trailer piled high with dead pheasants and ducks, that, minutes before had been wandering around happily in the fields. My heart broke.

Now, I know that this goes on, but it is the first time it has ever come so close to me. My husband saw some of the various landowners of the area walking past our car looking very self satisfied. It had been a good day for them.

I know all the arguments for this, and that I should not be so stupid, but I could not rest for the rest of the day and night. I kept “seeing” those poor birds, and their faces. I felt their fear as the Beaters beat them out of the undergrowth, only to be shot as they rose up into the air.

I then thought of nature itself, “red in tooth and claw”. And I no longer wanted to have anything to do with a God, if i deed there IS one, who created something like this.

Yes, I am stupid, I know. Too sensitive. But that was how I felt. And I vowed never to eat meat ever again. Extreme? I don’t know. I would love your responses to this. Please don’t worry if you have a contraty opinion or feeling to mine. I want to know.

Thankyou for reading


Than your own breath
Is the comfort you seek
In Love do we have our being
Though pain
Our spirits, we reach out and touch
That which is deep within
And find that Love
Dark nights
Of weeping leave
Us weak, our hearts open,
In our weakness we find our true strength
In love
That will never let us go, holds
Us safely in strong arms
Absorbing tears
That fall
You will find rest,
Deep peace beyond measure
It is not far away, but here,
Your heart
Knows it,
Go inside your heart, dear child, lay
Your head down on Love’s breast,
Cry your tears and be soothed,
Trust in this Love,
So deep


You gave shelter
When there was no one there
Who would make room for a woman
With child
There is still no room at the inn
For those untidy lives
That do not hit
The mark

Make room
For untidy
Ones who beg for mercy
For in truth they may be angels
Your path
Angels do not always have wings
But tangled hair, no shoes,

Judge not
Those whom you see
Who do not look the same
As you, who walk the streets begging
One day
You too
May find yourself in that dark place
May there be a stable
To shelter you
Give warmth

The world
Is untidy
Littered with lives gone wrong
Upside down people challenging
The right
Way up
Ones who really are upside down
A new world of mercy
Beckons us all
Greet it

#FOWC. Cartoon. DAD

FOWC with Fandango — Cartoon

The little room
Held him in check as he
Made his life in isolation
By her
Alone he sat with his pencils
Writing his heart out for
Who would listen
To him

One day
He had a stroke
His writing was wobbly
But clear and decipherable
“I’ve had
A stroke”
Ten days it took him then to die
The bottom of his chart
Said “Malnourished”
He died

One day
I found paper
On which he had written
As I looked my cold hands trembled
I saw
A CARTOON drawn with his pencils
And then I found many
So humorous
I laughed

But here
He lived alone
Starving and malnourished
Never allowed downstairs by her
Saved by
I felt a trembling in my heart
So this was what she did
And no one knew
My Dad



Still is the world
At the saying of Goodbye
We hold our breath
At the awesomeness
Of that which awaits us
That place where you have gone
A place of light
Too bright for our sullied eyes
And as we say Goodbye
We know our own poverty
Our smallness
In the face of infinity
And we pray
That we too
May approach that place of light
Unworthy though we are
Inspired by love and faith and light
We dare to say
“I too will follow”
And in that moment we are held
We take the Bread
Broken for us
To feed us in our brokenness
Held in the everlasting arms
That never will let us go


The other day I visited a little Church where I sometimes go. It is very isolated and is positioned in a farmyard! Some people were doing some work on the building, and I thought of the day when I met a man in there who was looking at the two bells. One of the bells is cracked but it still rings. I know. I have rung it!

Bells have been called “ the voice of God.” Vox Dominie. And very soon, the bells are going to be rung out for Christmas.

The cracked bell made me think once again of our cracked, fragmented, messy, untidy lives, and once again I thought of how such lives still have great value. Such lives can still give out a message to the world. In fact the message may be all the more meaningful because it has been tried and tested in the fire. I just want to say, “messiness is ok.” We should not need to feel afraid to show our messiness and our vulnerability. In weakness there can be great strength. If we ourselves are prepared to show our vulnerability, then it enables others to show theirs, and for relationships to be true and honest.

And so, on Christmas. Day, as the bells ring out, may they be saying, not just “Happy Christmas,” but “have an authentic Christmas” as well.

And, Christmas originated in a stable! Not a palace! May all our “stables” be blessed this Christmas!


It seems an age since I first went there. I didn’t mean to go there and I didn’t know I was going. It was just an ordinary summer’s day or so I thought, but it was a day that was to change my life for ever. Life is strange like that. I should have learned my lesson well. But this was something different. Something totally out of this world. And that is the only way I can describe it. Other worldly.

If you have ever been in one of those places where the veil seems thin. Where you feel you are touching on some time in the past, you will know what I mean. There were souls in those walls. I knew it, and I felt it, and they were trying to communicate with me. They had stories to tell. And I wanted to hear them.

That day began a new chapter in my life. Or maybe lots of chapters. And there are more to come. Life had been dramatic of recent months, but it was about to become much more dramatic. The drama is still unfolding.

As I sat outside the ancient stone building today, I ruminated on all that had happened. It seemed almost unbelievable. Yet it was true. Inside this place there was an altar. An altar of sacrifice. And I had laid my life on this altar. And in the darkness I had found light. I had nearly died. But I was still alive. And I knew the Light of Life. And never can I now unknown what I know. Whatever darknesses I face, I have the Light within me. And that is enough for me.


The birds can teach us humans so much. Here is a poem about geese.

Geese flew overhead one day,
Forming a ‘V’ in the sky,
Chattering loudly as they went,
Each knowing what the other meant.

Forming a ‘V’ in the sky,
The leader honking loudest,
Each knowing what the other meant,
Giving help to the weakest.

The leader honking loudest,
Cacophony of sound,
Giving help to the weakest,
Journeying towards their destination.

Cacophony of sound,
A clear message from the sky,
Journeying towards their destination,
To help our weaker brothers.

A clear message from the sky,
“How to reach our destination”,”
To help our weaker brothers,
Outpouring of God’s love.

“How to reach our destination”,
Nature reveals the secret,
Outpouring of God’s love,
Geese flew overhead one day


I stood on the rise today
Knowing that Someone stood with me
For He had been waiting so long
For me to return
Knowing that at the appointed time I would come
And on that day I was drawn
And in one moment we met
I could not stop
For in another moment in time
Many years ago
I had been given to Him
The first fruits
And in the giving He claimed me for His own
In this place I was named
By name He called me
Down the years
The corridors of time
But time for me is running out
And soon I will be drawn once again
This time by horses
To my final resting place
And on that day too
He will be waiting for me
On the rise
For He sees me coming from afar off
Knowing my time is almost nigh
Arms stretched out to greet me
Speaking my name
And I who can no longer walk
Will run to Him
I who can no longer see
Will behold His face
And in that last embrace I will know
I am “Home at last.”


As we were sitting in the dark
The lights went out
So we were informed
For we could not see either
From miles away
“Quick, hurry back
The lights have gone out
We can’t be in the dark”
We hurried
And while we were on our way
The lights came back on again
Not here
Not with me
But I knew what it was to trip
And my mother IS 93

A New Perspective


Hubby took me shopping yesterday and I hated every moment of it.
I can remember someone saying that you are only as disabled as someone thinks you are, and this came back to haunt me when we went in the shop.
Don’t get me wrong. I appreciated the thought, but was angry because I needed the help, I was not used to it, and I was completely out of control of my shopping list.

disabled quote

View original post 458 more words


I have woken up kind of numb again. It’s that time of year. You know, the one when you just keep going, going through the motions, but not really part of things. Things are happening all around you, but you are in a different world.

I awoke from a dream a short while ago. Well, not sure if it was a dream or a nightmare. Just lately I have been struggling with people’s perceptions of people in wheelchairs. It’s as if we are not really real people.

I guess I can understand it, but lately I have been hibernating. Not wanting to face the perpetual battle to be accepted as ME. You can get to the point where you just don’t want to be part of society any more. It is such a struggle.

I got some crutches recently. Beautiful shocking pink and black ones. I was determined not to go in any place in a wheelchair again. I thought that WHATEVER, I WOULD walk again. You know, it makes SUCH a difference being low down, way beneath everyone else’s eye level. People hardly see you actually. They bang into you. They kick you. They hit you with their bags. And in a way you are invisible. And when they DO know you are there, they tend to think of you as something not quite right. As something lesser than them. Maybe even as something that cannot speak or does not have feelings. Or even a brain.

The shocking pink crutches did not do much good. Well, not yet anyway. I can only walk a few steps on them before I keel over in agonising pain. But I will persevere. I want to be normal again. Or at least, a bit more normal.

I have just been drummed out of my church. By the priest, of all people. It is obvious that he does not want disabled people in his congregation. I should be in a Home, you see.

Well, shucks mate! I aint obliging!

So now, I go and join the congregation of the birds who sing in wonderful chorus. And I worship at the altar of nature.


Today a stick began to beat,
I could feel it on my flesh,
And with its beating came my heart,
Pulsing to its timing,
In times past I had known this pain,
Re-ignited by his words

Sticks and stones came in his words,
With each syllable the beat
Who says they cannot cause deep pain
And searing of the flesh?
He really chose his timing,
When the darkness hit my heart

A deep ache filled my heart
That could not be told in words,
I knew he’d got the right timing,
And maybe even the beat,
To guarantee my flesh
Would wither in its pain

The brain remembers pain,
As does the aching heart,
These things are in my flesh,
Do not despise these words,
Just like the stick they beat,
Oh what a glorious timing

Life follows its own timing,
Knowing your deepest pain,
I never will be beat,
Be ready now, my heart,
Remember they’re only words,
They cannot mar your flesh

See now your living flesh,
Defying such dark timing
Don’t listen to these words,
They cannot give you pain,
Strong now is your heart,
Just listen to its beat


For I sit one day looking at the fields,
A flash of colour takes my eye,
It darts so fast across the water,
I am mesmerised by such deep, rich colour,
It lands quite suddenly on a branch,
A beautiful tiny kingfisher.

For the very first time I see the kingfisher,
In a dyke surrounding the fields,
So close it sits on the swaying branch,
I see it clearly in my eye,
I am entranced by its wonderful colour,
Gently flows the water.

It sits looking at the moving water,
Containing fish for the kingfisher,
How amazing is its colour,
Matching the green of the fields,
Showing up on the grey-brown branch,
I can hardly move my eye.

I see it fluttering in my eye,
It starts to dart across the water,
Flying off the swaying branch,
This beautiful little kingfisher,
The wind blows gently on the fields,
The grass a shimmering green in colour.

I become aware of deeper colour,
Wherever I cast my eye,
Whether it be on the sky or on the water,
On the wild flowers in the fields,
Or on the little kingfisher,
That fluttered off the grey-brown branch.

Inside I thank God for that grey-brown branch,
My life now is full of deeper colour,
Brought into being by the kingfisher,
On which I feasted my eye,
As I look at the colours in the field,
I thank God for the moving water.

The sun shines on the water enhancing dancing colour ,
Even the brown-grey branch, that draws my eye,
Catching the shimmering green of the field, reflected in kingfishers wing.

the first time in AGES there appeared ankingfisher again, in the place where we iften go just to sit, an isolated place. I wrote this piem the last time wa saw ine there. I could see a bit then, but can’t now. So I relued upin my husband describing it to me. I was SO thrilled at its reapoearance.


“If a man wishes to be sure of the road he’s traveling on, then he must close his eyes and travel in the dark.”

So said a Spanish Mystic called St. John of the Cross in the 14th. Century. I find these words to be so comforting. I discovered them after I had been travelling in the dark for quite some time.

There is a sense in which I did not struggle with, or against my blindness at first. I was able to live in the present moment, knowing that despite all, all would be well. I was not fearful.

However, I discovered that many people did not accept or understand it. This, I found difficult.

I remember going one night, to a little Church that is hardly used now, but that is still open all the time – for some quiet. I was feeling particularly stressed by trying to live fairly normally. I simply went there for the quiet. It was almost pitch black insude the Church. And as I sat there feeling a bit numb, I had the strangest experience. I felt the darkness putting its arms around me. It was not God, as some may think. It was the darkness itself.

I sat there for a while feeling so comforted. It was the strangest experience.

After that I found the above words from St. John of the Cross. They made SO MUCH sense to me.

I also then discovered other saints and mystics who said wonderful things about the darkness. Some spoke of the Dazzling Darkness. And I knew JUST what they meant. The Luminous Darkness.

Still, today, I find these words about the darkness to be extremely meaningful. So I pass them on.


Do not fear the dark night
Nor run fast from its embrace
Seeking only to be in the light

In the darkness we gain clear sight
Here is where we find pure grace
Do not fear the dark night

Often in the darkness we fight
Looking for the smallest trace
Seeking only to be in the light

In the depths we find the height
Of joy and wonder in sacred space
Do not fear the dark night

The dark is luminous, oh so bright
Never could we find a better place
Seeking only to be in the light

My friend, do not be filled with fright,
Here is where you come to see Love’s face
Do not fear the dark night
Seeking only to be in the light


On the hill I heard the words “Home at last”
Present and future joined with the past
This was the place I always called home
Throughout the years when forced to roam
Above me the sky so vast

Over me now a spell was cast
So many years have gone so fast
I remembered when I walked alone
On the hill

Many more this way have passed
Their destinations with mine amassed
A horse will pull me when I’m gone
Written then on my gravestone
These cherished words “Home at last”
On the hill


I wrote the following some time ago. I tend not to post things like this, but I decided to today, because it might help someone else. Nothing has changed since I wrote it, and in fact my total dependence has increased. Here it is then:-

The other night we were travelling along in the car, on an isolated road by the river, and, with the car window down I could feel the wind on my face and in my hair, and smell the freshness. I knew that we were in a place that I used to walk – alone. I loved the isolation. The feeling of being able to wander at will. To be beholden to no one else. But now, I am unable to leave my home alone. I never will again. I cannot see and I cannot walk very far. If I do walk, it is dangerous to me, for I have no balance.

Inside, I felt a pang of deep grief. Sometimes I feel no longer a person. There is very little that I can do for myself. Even going to the bathroom in a morning is a trial, and I need to lie down on the bed in between each thing that I do, for not only did my cancer and treatment render me blind and unable to walk, but it damaged my lungs, so that now I have serious breathing issues. I become out of breath with very simple tasks.

My dependence upon other people makes me very sad. I grieve. I used to walk the hills and the mountains alone. I wandered frely. I drove my car many miles, going where I wanted and needed to. Now, I can do hardly anything. I cannot see the food on my plate. I throw it all over. I do not know what I am putting in my mouth. I cannot see my face in the mirror. I cannot see if my hair is okay. I cannot see if my clothes have any marks on them. I have no feeling in my hands and feet, and do not know if I have put my clothes on inside out or not. I cannot make a drink when I want one. I cannot see the television. I cannot see faces. I cannot see my dogs faces. I cannot see peoples expressions, and so often do not know how they are reacting. It is most discincerting. I do not know if people are smiling at me. I have no signals as to peoples dispositions.

I had a fleeting thought the other day – I will not be able to see my mothers face as she is dying. She is 92.

I know that I will never be alone or have freedom again.