From time to time we see
things that bring us up short: a person or a picture that speaks to us.
As I write this, half the
Amazon Forest is on fire, deliberately lit.
This should appal us; just as
the face of a newborn can humble and inspire us – my step-daughter gave birth
to a boy, Harry, last week.
My poem Fire is all about
this kind of revelation for good or ill.
Fire
He turned
and saw red fire lighting up
the bush
thorns sharp,
flowers in bloom colours all
alive
burning.
She turned
from a trail of tears
to face the fiery love of one
ascending
to the source of light her
eyes and heart alive,
their voices blending.
Will our world
in floods and flames turn
aside
to hear that voice
so loving and so searing?
See flames leap high
in gathering darkness that
all around
is falling?
See, Exodus 3:3, Moses, “I
must turn aside”;
John 20:14,16, of Mary, “She
turned around”;
“She turned.”
This plays on the Burning
Bush that spoke to Moses; or the Christ who spoke to Mary.
So here are two pictures: one
of the biblical story; and the other a tree on the shores of Lake Taupo, NZ, in
all its autumn glory.
Blessings,
Raymond
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