Like a sprinkler system in the height of summer
Like a cold compress on a bruised, sore head
Like gentle air con on a humid night
Like a heated blanket over a cold child's bed

Like an unexpected place offered at the table
Like a smile from a old thought-lost friend
- may your goodness flow undiminished through me
to whoever comes round the next bend

May your sweet goodness be my signature tune
May it always be following me
May my friends taste and see that you are good
And know for themselves your good mercy

Turn the mirror off
Turn the clock down
Turn the sun to night mode
Turn the world back to when I was young

Kindness is not nice.

Nice is soft and inoffensive.
Nice is easy and effects no change, it's cotton wool - not stuffed tight, but just resting on the surface ready to be blown away or trodden into a muddy disinterest. Nice is a damp whisper, a mouse cowering in the corner, taking up as little space as possible, lest it be noticed, lest it presume too much and cause a whisker of offence.

Kindness isn't like that -

Kindness pushes in, claws out, quick and heavy, uninvited, unexpected, taking pleasure in disturbance, in leaving nothing unsaid and little undone in its pursuit of creating a disruption of difference. Kindness counts everyone a target, anybody a likely candidate for a three act matinee and evening performance of loud Kindness. Surprise is its currency, smiles its language, common humanity its passport to lands yet explored, to vast pink territories with drumbeats of gratefulness for the opportunity to march in with regiments of compassion and to leave a signature devastation of brutal Kindness.

Kindness is not 'nice'.
Kindness is loving awe-ful.

This is my compilation of choice
This is where I hear God's voice
Wrapped in eloquent grace,
Punctuated with tearful praise
User manual or admonishment
Hope and encouragement
Stories of enemies and friends
- where battles end
in the end.

This is my anthology of choice
This is where I hear God's voice
Soft like the call of a lover
Earnest like the tears of a running Father
Substituting justice with forgiveness
Love Joy Peace and Patience

This is my anthology,
my compendium of choice
This is where I hear God's voice
This is where I hear words collide with joy
This is where words can fly

This is where you'll hear God's voice.

You see, my God is a poet.

Shared slow
Shared spheres
Shared strolls
Shared souls

If you like your fruit soft
and sweet
You need simply segment it
with patience.
However
if you prefer
the earlier bite of hurry
the bitter crunch of
'time is money'
then pick it early
because you know
we don't all have all the time
in the world
but we do have better things to do
with our time,
which as you know
is of the essence.

But if you like your fruit
soft and sweet,
then sit in the shade of the tree.
Sit at his pieced feet
and listen to his patience.

The veg of the Spirit is
a bended knee in the morning,
a prayer while fasting,
and a habit of listening
to God’s voice in the evening.

The meat of the Spirit is
open hearted giving,
open handed serving,
open armed hugging
and being open to weeping.

But the fruit of the Spirit is
Love, joy, peace,
patience, kindness,
goodness, faithfulness,
gentleness
and self-control.
Against such things there is no law.