Poems ✍️

The diffused northern sunlight
of this studio at dawn
matches the silence and the stillness

like the speaking silence
of the retrochoir behind the altar
of a simple white Greek island church –

that has no ornament; simply walls
painted in a pale blue wash,
the space, the air itself, as radiant with heaven;

behind the iconostasis – gold and candle and eternal gaze -
where praise is prepared; thought surrendered;
humility the robe; the sacred word awaits
the moment when it’s spoken;

so this studio; and at its centre, calling,
stands an easel with a white canvas on it;
what waits in this empty studio
that’s so full of emptiness that calls?

what challenges? This canvas
waits, as being ever does; full, content,
needing nothing but itself…

the silence will accept our spoken word,
then return to stillness;
the canvas will not be so forgiving;

‘make a mark on me that will not diminish
my completeness…; so let our being
meet, before a mark is made…’

this holy place: only godself may mark
this canvas and yet not detract; from space,
draw space; or may with colour stain transparent
this white white radiance of eternity:

and in the place whence all arises,
Nothing and Everything smile together
in their secret play.