Seconds before our first kiss
my clumsy words tore us asunder

and so I turned the rudder
from the sunset
into the full force of rejection.

We said nothing more,
and you did not notice my tears.

Her curiosity slipped in,
in silence, viewing
the clear, clean canal, exploring
the slow passings of time,
the wear and tears of years
of rough passage, ready to excise
any hint of a foreign body.

And his body lay, foetal,
while the nurse stroked his hand
assuring him the end was in sight,
but he kept still, his eyes tight shut
until she re-emerged,
and he could blink back into the light.

When I pray, I say too much
and he forgives so much
as his restoring touch
seeps marrow deep
lifting my sorrow
inviting me to rest a while
on both knees

There's moments
when you're at your most vulnerable,
when you're lost
in a moment of release.

Like when you sneeze

- especially when you let go
three times in quick succession
in a fit of complete defenseless-ness.

If your friend is subject
to a sneeze attack
watch their back

(and that way
you're out of their line of fire).

When the Spirit's around - that's the third of the Three -
He regularly raises fresh questions for me:

You see , He's both the sought and the seeker, the truth and the teacher
the help and the helper, the gift and the giver.

He's the breath and the voice, the chooser, the choice
the anointer, the oil, the peace and turmoil.

He's the joy and the cries, always there to baptise
the bearer of fruit with fresh gifts to boot.

He's as wild as the wind, He'll breeze where He will
I've tried to contain Him, but He won't remain still.

I can't ever define Him, can't assign Him a label,
just accept He's my God and that my God is able

to be true to His Word while resisting defining
He'll still leave me questions, but that's not surprising.

He kicked off creation, gave the church her fresh start
and we're just the latest to play our small part.

What I have passed on to my son
is often unclear to me.

I just know
that I had the grace to ensure
the package I passed on
is not the one I received

and that the extent to which
it will be unpacked and utilised
is not mine to determine.

That choice was part of the package.

My dear Theophilus, I want to stress
that this gospel story is ever-present, continuous
and it’s by no means strenuous
to draw a straight true line
from the angelic choir’s ‘unto us’
through to the empty cross,

and yes, past the fall of Judas
to the day the lot fell to Matthias
and whilst Matt may have on occasion
felt a little out of place
and like us, have sometimes undergone
the syndrome that’s imposter-ous,
nevertheless, with the disciples he received Christ’s promise
of a collective Pentecostal renaissance

And so,
no, it’s not presumptuous for you, for us
to stand with Matthias and the rest
of the disciples of Christ Jesus,
to receive this same promise
and for Christ to continue
the same reconciling mission through us,
because my dear Theophilus,
we are, you are the one and present-continuous,
Spirit-filled church