Question

Now then, here's a poem I wrote almost exactly 20 years ago. It was one of those ones that came out like an unexpected burp. Not sure I entirely knew what it meant then. And I'm still not entirely sure now. But here it is in all its pocket-sized profundity....

Question

Do we ignore them
And keep treading water
In the tepid shallow
Of our own voices,
Our own reasoning,
Our own fears?
Do we continue
Splish, splash, sploshing
Whilst the waves crash
Somewhere nearby
But not so close
That they touch us?

Edinburgh, April 1993

When I think back to that time, I remember being full of rage about the "niceness" of Christian culture. Steaming over the feeling of needing to be on my best behaviour to be acceptable. And generally frustrated and asking the same there-must-be-more-to-it-than-this question over and over again.

In some ways I've changed a lot since then. In some ways, not at all. I'm still asking questions. And the sense of there-must-be-more-to-it-than-this still remains.

Tomorrow evening I'll be down at the Message Parlour with friends asking a question that will form the basis of a collective mural/collage: "What does love look like?"

Been testing it out this week already and have had some interesting responses. Sunsets. Bonfires. Tables laden with food surrounded by friends. A smiling, eye-locked parent and child. Barefoot on jagged rocks. Jesus on the cross, arms wide open.....

Been looking through some photos to add to the mix tomorrow....






















...and will update next time with whatever else is added by whoever else.