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Sometimes you spell it out for us:God’s earth – the matter of the universe,holding without form at first,all God’s love, grace, mercy, pardon,as our..

Sometime it swims right up to the glassas if it would talk with me –opens its mouth, fixes me with a watery eye;a moment when we can exchange silent..

I bumped into my grandson's English teacher yesterdayat the football, and in between shouting like teenagersI moaned about the state of A's Eng. Lit...

A blackbird has been sitting outside the windowfor some time this morning, andI’m trying to tune in to its blackbird thoughts,if indeed it’s burdened..

As far from men, as nearto God, as they could achieve, livingwhere the desert met the mountains;their sustenancebeyond our supermart imaginings,alone..

It was the bloodiest dayin those long long years;that day when ‘they’ killed ‘us’who were the ‘they’ to them.The next day we buried ours;fearing as..

This starry dawn – the wise men yet afar –the shepherds are abed, their night’s task done.Is Mary tired? Or, as one untouched?All birth’s a miracle;..

You know, since you've played that game too:Sometimes, consumed by glowing, burning loveof treasured child, or husband, wife,it is one further bound..

It’s said that when the One eternal mindbursts into glorious multiplicity,its first divisions enter human kindas dualism and polarity:dualism may be..

He was the pride,sometimes the envy, of the village:no wealth of jewels, buta set of gleaming tools.When asked, he would tell:I go to the..

The rich need the less richto oil their lives like soundless hingesand do the jobs they would not want to do.The poor need the less poorto make the..

OK you’ve written 2000 crap poems you say.Now pack up this arithmetical stuff:there’s an algebra to poetry:equations full of unknowns:for a start..

When he was youngand life was poetryand poetry was lifeand girls made poetryin his hearthe’d showed his poems toan aged poet whowas quiet a while..

What is there to sayabout that word?Nothing. It is itself enough.Everything. For everything springs from it;whatever you speak, is praise of it.Seek..

Who can forget- if and when you’ve seen him -that student whose whole face and body languageshout at you the demand,‘Hate my ugliness! Tell me that..

Was this first yellow primrosewaiting for me hereto join it in wordless praise?

We love them dearly,Individually – always will –but together – lawdy lawd…they’ve exhausted our sympathy,our advice, our sympathy again…they love..

It was the year before last thatI started to notice it.Bees wandered into the housethen didn’t remember the way backBees. Whose sense of direction..

Tekne’, to the Greekswas the art of bringing-forthfrom the true (and, it’s hoped, the good)into the beautiful:poetry; sculpture; machinery of wood..

Even before the question put,they’re full of quiet attention; somethingis already being listened to.. makesthat space, in which a questionmay be..

Suppose that ‘Evolution’ were throned God,with all the praise and power accorded That?Where would that path then lead the human race?And what new..

It was 1952. We had a limited travel currency.In Paris, I went one morning tothe Dome Café. Theresat Jean-Paul Sartre, smokinga large meerschaum..

This…thing… which visits me,torturer so intimatewhich knows me better than I know myself:calls out all my resourcesto transcend its pains;changes..

Is evolution wiser than we know?Are we to believe it nothing morenor less, than threats, in holy or unholyalliance with blind chance;survival of the..

Just back from the surgery(at least it’s ‘the’ surgery, notcold-steel ‘surgery’…)Surgery. Well-named.Surges of fear, apprehension,remorse, injustice..