Poems

Praise him in the light of the sun, which he created.
Praise him in the darkened silence, which he created.
Praise him in the refreshing wind, which he created.
Praise him in the fire, in the water, in the rock and in the air which he created.
Praise him in his creatures and in his plants, in the stars and in the atoms which he created.
Praise him in time, which he created, and in the endlessness of endless time, which he created.

He sits on his throne; yet he is part of everything.
He watches over all; yet he is part of it all.
He cares for and loves all that he created, for it is what he created.
He is my shepherd, for he loves that which he created.

Clothed in robes, but more than that a man,
Bearing rod and sceptre, anointed, crowned,
And yet, beyond the pageant, what more can
he do to make his words reflect the sound
Of kingship made.

Light,
in a way,
Leads to the end of the day.

It shines, we fade. It energises, we decay.
It speeds, we slow.

We are leaves at the end of the day,
in a way
light.