Tag: Mr G

Breathtaking butterfly

Peacock Butterfly photographed by Lynn Hurry in Latton Vicarage Garden

The other day a Peacock Butterfly visited the garden at Latton Vicarage and my friend Lynn, the Vicar, took this photo. She sent it to me with the suggestion that it might inspire me. So I have written a poem.

The Peacock Butterfly is a familiar sight in gardens across the British Isles and is unmistakable, with quite spectacular eyes on the upperside of the hindwings that give this butterfly its name. Despite being a common sight there is a breathtaking beauty about this butterfly which gave me the inspiration for the poem

Peacock butterfly … Breathtaking

A beautiful sunny afternoon in heaven.
God rested, stretched, relaxed;
but the creator of everything cannot be still.
an idea formed;
a longing to make something beautiful.
When you are full of love it is no chore to create.

He would paint,
brushing into life something stunning,
Breathtaking!

His canvas invitingly empty
God dipped the brush of his imagination,
stretched out his hand.
Intricate sparkling colours
flowed from his fingers.
What figment of his palette
did He conjure up?
Slow formation of something crazy.

He fashioned me, a butterfly
adorned with Peacock colours.
I am painted with the eye of God,
a reflection of His love for making.
Crafted by God,
every act of creativity births new loveliness
into the world

God blew on my wings.
Breath giving
Breathtaking

I fly.

Mr. G.

23^rd June 2021

Dawn Chorus

My friend, Joyce Smith, has sent a Tweet about Nature’s heralding of Spring. Last Sunday was International Dawn Chorus Day (there’s always something for everyone!) and this Robin obliged by turning up in Joyce’s garden and giving a deeply spirited performance.

It got me thinking and so here’s a poem –

At the Break of Day

The Orchestra of Light tunes up;
Trying out riffs and practising scales
Cock clears his throat, ‘Ahem … a-doodle-doo!’
Songthrush bustles importantly
into the auditorium –‘They rely on me to begin, you know.’
‘Not so’, cuts in Robin, with Blackbird on the wing,
‘We are well-known early risers
our song is eagerly awaited!’
Little Wren, never one to push,
slips onto the stage,
apologizing profusely for her small stature.
‘Small, but beautifully formed’ says Mr Owl
on his way to bed,
‘sing me to sleep little one.’
The chiffchaff flies into the melée
of slowly gathering sound
as Chaffinch and Sparrow take a bow.
Mr Cock raises his beak,
‘Ladies and gentlemen, shall we begin?
Please open your music
at the ‘Dawn Chorus’,
written, I believe, by God.’

Mr. G.

12^th May 2021

God Moments

A new photo-reflection from my friend Joyce Smith

Joyce wrote about her photo reflection: This Egret also sees ‘light at the end of the tunnel’ !

Spring is a time of new life; new hope after the darkness of Winter. This is no coincidence. This is God’s plan in creation, even when we don’t feel it. We have to learn to read the signs, of which the Egret is one.

There are all sorts of times in our lives when what we might call coincidences happen. Ways ahead become clear, solutions happen, and there is light at the end of tunnels. Maybe sometimes, when our faith is hard and brittle, something beautiful happens to raise our spirits or we find in a quiet moment that God is there, near us, after all.

My problem with all these ‘coincidences’ is that I don’t believe in coincidences. Everything has a plan and a purpose. When we are ‘surprised’ by something that happens which speaks to our souls then we are having what I call a God Moment. This is the time when God acts in our lives in a surprising or special way.

It’s vitally important to believe in God Moments because it reminds us that we are in God’s hands and whatever we are going through, good or bad, is watched over by God.
In Isaiah Chapter 43 v1 we hear God tells His people,
I have called you by name, you are mine.
It is because of this that there will always by God Moments in our lives – times when something happens which God has planned to happen because we are His. Sometimes, sadly, we don’t believe this to be true.
So it’s worthwhile praying the words in Joyce’s reflection from the first letter of John.

God is Light. In him there is no darkness at all. (1 John 1:5b)

There is God’s light at the end of the tunnel!

(Joyce Smith & Mr. G)

Gethsemane

Gethsemane

This is his Passion.
Darkness wraps around his very being,
not a warming cloak but a shroud.
Silence, punctured by friends
snoring off the wellbeing of food,
minds sloshed with wine.
Alone with the shivers of the night,
everything in him protests.

Sometimes, when we know our destiny,
our minds close.
Not this! No! Never!
But our hearts are our undoing:
our resolve begins; ends there.

So he battles with his need to say ‘Yes’,
for himself, for others,
for us.
How else can the world know what it is to be loved?

Kneeling on the damp ground,
tense, numb,
scared, uncertain, he waits.

And the Father waits too as demons and angels whirl,
stirring up the black air, a vortex of cosmic battle.
Below them, sweat drops as blood.

And still the Father waits, listening expectantly,
daring to hope…

God wrestling desperately with God
with everything – just everything – at stake.
This really is the Passion.

He sighs, deeply,
calm descends.“Yes, let it be.”
The Father wraps his love around him
– and so too around us.

Holy Tuesday 2021

(inspired by St. Luke 22:39-46)

[Mr G]