“In the beginning was the 'logos' ...”


From out of her distress
She called him.
With a mother’s tenderness
She called him.
From evening until morning
She waited, calling, calling
His name until the echo
Came back again
In the ebb and flow
Of tides of pain.

And struggling she went
To find him,
Drowning in tides bent
To find him.
Through doubting and believing
She went on searching, searching
The tempestuous sea
That flung her flesh
On rocks of mercy
She would not bless.

In the fury of the storm
She called him.
In the witch wind’s scream and moan
She called him.
In the rising and falling
Of wild waves heaving, heaving
She gasped and called his name,
And through the storm
Answering her he came
Forth to be born.


And they joined and made me,
Sealing in the cell
Their gifts I cannot break
Despite the years of stones
I pile to crush them.

The message that inside
They wrote to guide me
I repeat ten million times,
But cannot say more than
Its meaning gave me.

And yet, perhaps, there was
A stutter or missing word,
And in that gap I’ll write
A new word men shall cry
To live, and recreate me.


When working as a miner I had this dream
Of working at the coal face, when
My lamp picked out a narrow opening
In the pit wall,
An unsupported fissure, unplanned
And unsure.
I took my courage in my hands
And entered there, unthinking
As unknowing where it led.
Then, as I moved along the darkened way,
A dim light came and led me on
Till I came out to sunshine
On a sandy beach with salt sea air.
Though all was amazement, I was not surprised
Because a dream can be a promise long foretold.
At the edge of the shore was a longboat
With four sailors at the oars,
And standing at the helm was an officer
Who greeted me with acclamation.
I took the seat he offered me,
Then the boat was rowed away.