Skip to main content

Pre-Dawn Chorus

I often frame these reflections in my head whilst lying in the dark, wide awake, unwilling to put the light on and read a book for fear of waking Sally  If the clamour is really bad I'll get up, and go to another bed or room (of which there are many in this manse) to read or record these ramblings on paper or screen. But a few nights ago, on the eve of Storm Arwen, it was too cold and miserable to go elsewhere, and the bluetooth headset I also occasionally use to tune into a podcast to erase the mental noise inside my head had run out of "juice". This is essentially a record of what was going on in my head. I am sure many others have similar experiences.

Wind; rain; the rumble of traffic
Hurrying who knows where
Along wet pre-rush hour roads;
The relentless low-level whirr 
of the extractor fan in the ensuite;
Infuriatingly irregular breathing;
A grumbling, growling stomach;
The unhummable theme tune
Of the “Morning Show” (ironically),
Morphing into Ravel's “Bolero”
and the attendant imagery of ice-skating.

A pre-dawn backing track
To the dialogues and discussions
In my head, ready to roll
When the slightest thing
Interrupts my sleep.
“Knock, knock!”
“Who’s there?”
A queue of petitioners
Like the plebeians of old,
Jostling for position,
Thrusting their requests
Towards me: each one
Urgent and deserving
Of my undivided attention;
A clamour of voices,
Many my own,
Rehearsing what needs
To be said and done
Or what should have been
Said and not done,
Together with what
Can’t be said but should,
Yet won’t get done at all.

My prayer?
“Lord, you handle this
Until I get a few hours
Extra sleep.”
And
“Would you ever
Just turn the music off?”
Selah




Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

A Woman of no Distinction

Don't often post other people's stuff here... But I found this so powerful that I thought I should. It's a performance poem based on John 4: 4-30, and I have attached the original YouTube video below. A word for women, and men, everywhere... "to be known is to be loved, and to be loved is to be known." I am a woman of no distinction of little importance. I am a women of no reputation save that which is bad. You whisper as I pass by and cast judgmental glances, Though you don’t really take the time to look at me, Or even get to know me. For to be known is to be loved, And to be loved is to be known. Otherwise what’s the point in doing either one of them in the first place? I WANT TO BE KNOWN. I want someone to look at my face And not just see two eyes, a nose, a mouth and two ears; But to see all that I am, and could be all my hopes, loves and fears. But that’s too much to hope for, to wish for, or pray for So I don’t, not anymore. Now I keep to myself And by that
2 comments
Read more

Psalm for Harvest Sunday

A short responsive psalm for us as a call to worship on Harvest Thanksgiving Sunday, and given that it was pouring with rain as I headed into church this morning the first line is an important remembrance that the rain we moan about is an important component of the fruitfulness of the land we live in: You tend the land and water it And the earth produces its abundance. You crown each year with your bounty, and our storehouses overflow with your goodness. The mountain meadows are covered with flocks and the valleys are filled with corn; Your people celebrate your boundless grace They shout for joy and sing. from Psalm 65
3 comments
Read more

Anointed

There has been a lot of chatter on social media among some of my colleagues and others about the liturgical and socio-political niceties of Saturday's coronation and attendant festivities, especially the shielding of the anointing with the pictured spoon - the oldest and perhaps strangest of the coronation artefacts. Personally I thought that was at least an improvement on the cloth of gold canopy used in the previous coronation, but (pointless) debates are raging as to whether this is an ancient practice or was simply introduced in the previous service to shield the Queen from the TV cameras, not for purposes of sacredness, but understandable coyness, if she actually had to bare her breast bone in puritan 1950s Britain. But as any church leader knows, anything performed twice in a church becomes a tradition. All this goes to show that I did actually watch it, while doing other things - the whole shooting match from the pre-service concert with yer wumman in that lemon-
2 comments
Read more