PhotoStop#1

My first visit to Gloucester Cathedral was on a school trip, via the upper deck of a No 3 bus with Class 4A1 - all 42 of us. I hadn’t a camera then, but have returned many times to capture special images - and this is my favourite:

You have to know where to find it, and be prepared to lift the seats in the Choir, preferably when guardian angels are looking the other way … . It’s a ‘misericord’ ( mercy seat) a ledge on which the monks could park their butts during the long hours of chanting. If you can’t picture the mechanics of the misericord, imagine lifting the toilet seat, and perching atop it. 

I love this carving because it’s mischievous, anarchical, and ever so slightly blasphemous.

Or should that be blarsephemous?

:) 

 

Easter Proclamation!

God Awakening

I will celebrate the victory of my God in silence, and in song.

I will gaze upon the likeness 

Of the one-who-was pierced.

I will touch the mystery 

Of the dead-one-living.

I will trace his signature over my heart:

North to South

East to West:

King of Kings

Lord of Lords.

I will open my mouth to sing the serenade of the stars,

The song of the angels before the throne of God.

 I will shout into the sunrise, a canticle for my King:

‘Rejoice!   Rejoice!

The Lord is Risen -

Alleluia!’ 

I will bury myself in his joy, 

And, with laughter,

I will rise again.

The King Sleeps

The King Sleeps

I will mine the agony of my God with a pick and a lamp.

I will hew the stones and teach them to cry ‘Hosanna!’

I will fashion a tomb to bloom in a garden

I will fracture the face of Israel with a blow

That will become an earthquake

To  awaken the dead.

I will set my lamp beneath a splintered tree

I will close my ears against the forsaken cries of the Holy One 

I will seal my mouth against the acrid taste of blood

I will shut my eyes to hide the corpse that hangs above me. 

His eyes, not -closed.  His body, not-clothed.

‘IT IS FINISHED!’

 

It’s over.   God - 

Adored, outpoured -  passes over. 

Numbed, beyond fear, I whisper a lullaby into the dark:

‘Be still.        Be still. 

Night dawns.  

Death dies -

The King sleeps.’ 

Frank And Alfie: For Vaughn and Zara

Frank and Alfie live in the County of Worcestershire in the United Kingdom.

We are here:

Here are my mum and dad (and grandma and grandad)

Here we are on Alfie's third birthday last year.

Alfie is holding cake.

This is our house:

Our neighbours live here:

This is our School:

Daddy and Alfie at the Hidden Gardens on holiday in Cornwall.

Grandma loves the Gardens!

At home with Grandad:

In a Castle with Mummy:

On the beach:

Frank's first day at school

Mummy and Daddy:

A sunny day at the beach:

A cold picnic!