day 24

This morning as I walked along the lakeshore,I fell in love with a wrenand later in the day with a mousethe cat had dropped under the dining room table. In the shadows of an autumn evening,I fell for a seamstressstill at her machine in the tailor’s window,and later for a bowl of broth,steam rising likeContinue reading “day 24”

day 19

Other incarnations, of course, consonant with the environment he finds himself in, animating the cells,  sharpening the antennae, becoming as they are that they, in the transparency of their shadows, in the filament of their calculations, may, in their own way, learn to confront the intellect with its issue. And his coming testified to notContinue reading “day 19”

a certain slant of light

(all images by Kate Kennington Steer)  There’s a certain Slant of light,Winter Afternoons –That oppresses, like the HeftOf Cathedral Tunes – Heavenly Hurt, it gives us –We can find no scar,But internal difference –Where the Meanings, are – None may teach it – Any –’Tis the seal Despair –An imperial afflictionSent us of the AirContinue reading “a certain slant of light”

hallowing sight

(all images by Kate Kennington Steer) I ignore all the ridiculousness around Halloween, the dressing up, the tricks and treats, but I do quietly celebrate the three days of All Hallows, All Souls and All Saints. These days form the bridge from October to November, signalling the beginning of the end of Autumn light andContinue reading “hallowing sight”

what is it?

(For those of you who didn’t catch this first time around on other social media platforms, this post was originally published by Godspace on 5.8.20 as part of their season on the theme of ‘Uncertainty’.  I apologise it has taken me so long to post here!) (all images by Kate Kennington Steer) I have lived with uncertaintyContinue reading “what is it?”

standing still for solstice

(all images Kate Kennington Steer) I am drawn to light, of all kinds, in all shapes.  I am pulled towards the symbols and manifestations of the Great Light.  And yet, paradoxically, through chronic ill health, I am often dragged into the most shadowed places within.  The darknesses of depression are a constant companion lurking notContinue reading “standing still for solstice”

we each hear in our own language (Acts 2.8, Pentecost 2020)

How do I hear the Holy Spirit speak to me?  In soughing grass, in crashing wave, in a child’s cry, in an elder’s laugh?  In sunlight on my lifted face, in moonlight on my crumpled bed? In an urgent prod that begins in my gut and lies heavy on my solar plexus?  In another’s singing,Continue reading “we each hear in our own language (Acts 2.8, Pentecost 2020)”

furled fire (a Beltaine Birthday Blessing)

Every year I wonder whether to write something to mark Beltaine, the Celtic feast which celebrates a cross-quarter day in the year’s wheel, the end of the dark half of the year and the beginning of its half of light.  I celebrate the waxing of the arc the sun’s path makes across the little sliceContinue reading “furled fire (a Beltaine Birthday Blessing)”

psalms for passiontide: Holy Saturday Psalm 31.1-4,15,16

refuge rock refuge fortress rock fortress refuge These are the images of Psalm 31.1-4, the oh-too-solid opposites of the tangled net the psalmist feels closing around him.  On Holy Saturday, these are also images of a tomb in which an already much-mourned, much-loved, broken body lies waiting for its final anointing and arranging once theContinue reading “psalms for passiontide: Holy Saturday Psalm 31.1-4,15,16”

advent apertures 2019: Christmas Eve

I have learned that fences are for climbing to see if the grass really is greener on the other side; and that if I leave the house at night, and stretch high on the top of my tiptoes I might touch the quivering stars, play with the bright young moon.   I have learned thatContinue reading “advent apertures 2019: Christmas Eve”