as you left their voices behind,

the stars began to burn

through the sheets of clouds

and there was a new voice,

which you slowly

recognized as your own,

that kept you company

as you strode deeper and deeper

into the world,

determined to do

the only thing you could do …

determined to save

the only life you could save.

(Devotions by Mary Oliver 2017)

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Lest that should conquer me.

I haven’t quite the strength now

To break it to the Bee …

I will not name it in the street

For shops would stare at me …

That one so shy … so ignorant

Should have the face to die.

(The poetry of Emily Dickenson)

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but it is the centre hole 

that allows the wheel to function. 

We mould clay into a pot,

but it is the emptiness inside 

that makes the vessel useful. 

We fashion wood for a house, 

but it is the emptiness inside 

that makes it liveable. 

We work with the substantial, 

but the emptiness is what we use. 

Lao Tzu

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first let yourself become broken. 

If you want to become straight,

first let yourself become twisted. 

If you want to become full, 

first let yourself become empty. 

If you want to become new, 

first let yourself become old. 

Those whose desires are few get them, 

those whose desires are great go astray. 

For this reason the Master embraces the Tao, 

as an example for the world to follow. 

Because she isn’t self-centred, 

people can see the light in her. 

Because she does not boast of herself, 

she becomes a shining example.  

Because she does not glorify herself, 

she becomes a person of merit. 

Because she wants nothing from the world, 

the world cannot overcome her. 

When the ancient Masters said, 

‘If you want to become whole, 

then first let yourself be broken,’

they weren’t using empty worlds. 

All who do this will be made complete. 

Tao Te Ching

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Cynthia Ransley & Terri Spy

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Every morning a new arrival. 

A joy, a depression, a meanness, 

some momentary awareness comes 

as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!

Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows, 

who violently sweep your house empty of its furniture,

still, treat each guest honourably. 

He may be clearing you out 

for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice, 

meet them at the door laughing, 

and invite them in. 

Be grateful for whoever comes, 

because each has been sent 

as a guide from beyond. 

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And suddenly understand 

That you, Deep Night, 

Surround me and play with me, 

And I am stunned …

Your breath comes over me. 

And from a vast. distant solemnity

Your smile enters me. 

Rainer Maria Rilke

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“Why, we have always been here” nature replied.

“Don’t you remember?”

“I tickled your toes when you took your first steps” said the grass.

“And I caught you when you fell.”

“I landed on your knee in the schoolyard” said the ladybird. 

“And listened patiently as you talked to me.”

“I came to dance around your window when you couldn’t sleep,” said the wind.

“To remind you that you weren’t alone.”

“I embraced you when you were hot”, said the ocean.

“And washed away your troubles.”

“I watched over you as you passed by me every day,” said the tree. 

“And saw you safely home.”

“I sang to you when you were tired” said the bird.

“But I don’t know if you heard me.”

“I gave you water when you were thirsty,” said the river.

“But I don’t think you knew it was me.”

“I bloomed extra bright when your world seemed dull,” said the sunflower. 

“But I don’t think you saw me.”

“I nourished you when you were hungry,” said the earth. 

“But I don’t think you ever thanked me.”

“You see, we loved you the whole time,” said nature

“We were here all along.  How could you forget us?”

by Leanna Burnard – Sharpham summer 2019

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Thrown by the hand of fate.

It crushes all within it’s way, 

Leaves destruction in it’s wake.

It indiscriminately soldiers on, 

Rain or hail or shine, 

Not caring who, or what, or why, 

Lies in the firing line. 

Life and spirit lay squashed and broken,

Not understanding why, 

They fell victim to this cruel force, 

Left on the path to die. 

But for those that pause and stop to look, 

At what’s scattered on the ground – 

A trail of sparkling hints of life – 

There’s beauty to be found!

For whilst pain stamps across the world, 

It leaves something behind. 

It plants the seeds of love and hope, 

And strengthens saddened minds. 

For all the beauty and all that’s bright

Would lay buried underneath, 

If pain had not just ploughed the soil, 

To deliver our relief. 

From great pain we reap great beauty, 

One of life’s cruellest games.

And the greatest wonders of this world, 

Are grown from the wrath of pain. 

by Leanna Burnard – Sharpham August 2019

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Amid her screams a tiny voice was heard pleading pitifully to be let out.  Crouching in the corner of the box was Hope.  As she flew out her dragonfly wings brushed against Pandora’s cheeks healing her wounds for letting her go.  Pandora’s nemesis was her curiosity and more than that the lure of something more than necessity; jewels and dresses to adorn herself. 

The arrival of the coronavirus pandemic upon the world has been like an evil unleashed upon us.  It has enforced us all to retreat, to stay safe, to stay home.  The cost has been huge in the loss of human lives, in the suffering of those who contracted it, to all those called to nurse the sick and dying, to the families who are bereaved and to the impact of the lockdown on us all.  Not to mention the financial crisis that will need to be borne by everyone for years to come. 

There has to be a question to which we have all been called to answer.  Will we pause to wonder about what part each of us has played in this; what hubris did we enact in squandering the earth’s abundance? It seems Mother Earth has spoken.  Will we heed her call? Will we hear Hope pleading to be let out and will we let her fly to follow the evils?

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