rose shimmering in summer brightness. Photo: Piers Northam
Summer afternoon
Dozing in and out of an open book, hot-headed in the baking brightness, sounds coalesce:
Ears buffeted by eddying breezes, conversations drifting across fencetops, a lazy wind-chime, gravel crunch and a distant saw.
The wheeze and hum, click and whir of hidden insects. Flies, like far-off squadrons of returning airmen and the lilting strobe of gaudy wings on crazy flightpaths.
Easter Bright ~ a poem for Easter by Peter Hellard-Malt.
This morning begins with a quiet frost a carpenter sky, pale and ordinary low expectations drifting in from Nazareth
By mid-morning, scattered light gentle warmth moving among crowds a chance of healing in open places some may notice loaves increasing without explanation
Into the afternoon, conditions turn unsettled authorities gathering like thick cloud pressure dropping over Jerusalem voices rising, thunder without rain
Evening brings a sudden storm darkness at an unusual hour curtains torn by unseen wind one might say the forecast has gone quite wrong
Overnight, a deep stillness he kind that feels like waiting tombs sealed, hope folded away no visibility, not even for seasoned prophets
But at dawn, quite without warning a bright and unreasonable sunrise stone rolled aside like morning mist death giving way as if it were only weather
Outlook for the week light continues, stubborn and uncontained scattered appearances of joy and a general lifting of all things once thought final
Their eyes never leave you, together confronting the agony as you are pinioned to the cross and crucified.
Three long hours.
Their presence is unwavering, their gaze unflinching, though a sword pierces their own anguished hearts.
Among them, the one who endured the agonies of bringing you into the world: who cradled the infant you. Now you are held in her gaze, her eyes fixed on you as she stands close by. Soon she will cradle your stiffening, lifeless body.
Where others have faltered and fled, these are the ones who remain, their presence, all that is left to give: a wilful resistance, a faithful standing by, a harrowing witness.
Here, at the foot of the cross, is true strength, true devotion: a love that is unsparing and never turns away…
Sunrise from Lindisfarne over the Farne Islands, St Cedd’s day, October 26th 2025. Photo by Gill Henwood.
October 26th is St. Cedd’s Day:
The little that is known about Saint Cedd comes to us mainly from the writing of Saint Bede in his Ecclesiastical History Of The English People. Cedd was born in the kingdom of Northumbria and brought up on the island of Lindisfarne by Saint Aidan. He was one of four brothers: Chad (originally Ceadda), Cynibil and Caelin being his siblings. The first datable reference to Cedd by Bede makes clear that he was a priest by the year 653. It is likely that Cedd was oldest of the brothers and was acknowledged the head of the family. While he was alive, he seems to have taken the lead, while Chad was his chosen successor. Cedd was sent out from Lindisfarne to take the Gospel to Essex, landing after a sea journey at Bradwell where, today, there is still a Chapel built on the foundation of Cedd’s monastery. As well as this mission, Cedd also established a monastery at Lastingham in the Cleveland Hills. From here he established a mission in North Yorkshire. When he died of the Plague, his brother Chad took over. Today, at Lastingham, the crypt chapel is said to date back to Cedd’s time.
Learning of God from Island Saints.
I come to this Holy place where, when the tide turns, silence and conversation meld into stillness. God is here. His sanctuary, enclosed by the sea, welcomes those who are seeking after meaning.
What am I looking for, here on Lindisfarne, where the spirit of Aidan gathered together those chosen by God, on whom the Saint poured out his soul, his faith, into their waiting hearts?
I sense and seek the company of those who first prayed here through the storms of the sea, the blowing of the winds sweeping over the Headland Heugh, in the strange light of pale day and the fading shadows of eventide. In silence and in prayer; through learning and in listening; by becoming steeped in God’s word; twelve young monks, were inspired to mission the good, Gospel news, of Jesus Christ.
Cedd and Chad, Cynibil, Caelin and companions allowed Jesus to be etched upon their hearts, discovering a love which must be shared. How else would others inhale God’s blessing and love in their own lives and cause a world’s darkness to be bathed and transformed by the dazzling light of God’s Spirit?
And I, kneeling somewhere between the waves and shore of my inner being, must hear anew this call to open the Gospel pages illuminated by God within my soul, that through me also God may mission to others His amazing and saving Love.
Mr. G. St Cedd’s Day 2025.
Dawn over Lindisfarne, taken from Bamburgh by Gill Henwood. St Cedd’ s Day 2025