Thinking of you

I was thinking of you

as I walked the line between tides,
listening to the sea and the land clap hands,
watching the the rise and fall of the oceans breath,
and feeling the sand between my toes.

This is my prayer for you.
May you forever clap with two hands
each dissolving one into the other with the sound of joy.
May your breath rise and fall with the rhythm of life.
May you write love letters in the sand
made new every day.

I was thinking of you
when I lifted my eyes to the hills.
Forever the same yet never before seen just like this,
a thin place with no boundary between heaven and earth,
where help comes in the clouds and sun kissed rays.

May you pray,
but only as you know you are being prayed for
by this extravagant gift of grace.
May your eyes be lifted up
and your souls made new
as you walk upon this sacred ground.


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I showed God my plans

I showed God my plans

and God smiled ear to ear,
as if being presented 
with a child’s first poem.

I showed God my plans
and God wept, 
knowing the precious under pressure 
is fragile and easily breaks.

I showed God my plans
and God asked some questions,
wanting to save me from myself 
yet enjoying my imagination.

I showed God my plans 
and God laughed,
knowing that no plan 
ever survives its paper.

I showed God my plans
and we danced 
them off the page 
and into a world in waiting.

And one day,
when I was ready,
I asked for God’s plan.
There were no instructions
but a canvass,
an artist still at work,
a smile of delight,
an imagination 
and a dance.



andrew norton

New Year’s Day 2014




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January 2, 2014 · 7:47 am

First light



Before the first light of morning,
when only street lights notice,
a world in waiting

as darkness is bent
towards the light,
shadows go indoors
for fear of being seen.

As one set of blinds open
another closes
like sun shades,
this fierce yet healing light

reach deep into the souls shadows,
terrifying and comforting
the one who is afraid.

And now between worlds
of light and darkness,
a gracious invitation

to be the one you were
from the beginning,
when seen in the first light.
and unashamed.

Andrew Norton
Dec 2013


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The invitation


Come with me and stand before the dawn,

let us be still,
without words
and wait,
wrapped in the blanket of darkness
within and without.

Watch with me
as sun splinters break into our worlds,
to see and to be seen,
never giving ourselves in total to the light,
but residing in the threshold of shadows
to protect this precious gift.

The invitation of this day comes
through the mist across the vast sea
ensuring the mystery of our adventure,
the known and the unknown,
consummated through our eyes,
a revelation, a constant re-veiling,
for to see fully would be not to see at all
as it is in the familiar of things that we lose our sight.

From this dawning may we awaken
tired eyes blinded by the ordinary
and welcome the wonder of this new day.

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Blessing Time

As the days line up one after another outside the door of tomorrow

with hours sorted and stacked in piles of do’s.

May you know how to count the preciousness of each moment and

not live the next before all of life is extracted from the present.


As interruptions come in every shape of the clouds calling for attention,

may you have the eyes to recognise the angels in disguise,

stop what you are doing and go out for coffee.

This may be your real work for the day!


As you become buried in your own sense of self importance,

may you speak words of praise to those who make you look so good and

words of encouragement to the wearied of hand and heart.

This will save you.


In the mundane minutes filled by the particulars of nothing,

may the child within you not forget how to play.

May your eyes sparkle with curiosity

with your heart always open to wonder and surprise.


At day’s end when you’re spent of  hours

and the shift worker of night has come,

surrender to the setting sun.

May the grace of darkness bring light to your body and soul in sleep.


Andrew Norton 

Vella, Switzerland September 2013

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The promise

There is a promise
that is carried throughout the ages
and journeys the barren beauty of wilderness,
the valleys of grief
and the thresholds of new beginnings.

Jerusalem’s pilgrim polished streets;
cream red veined stone
and walls of prayer
have not forgotten
the promise.

It comes to the listening ear
wearied by the sounds of many voices,
now available to the one true voice that calls you by name.
Wrapped in pervading aloneness
a voice of prevenient befriending
whispers sacred words.
You are not alone . . .

“I Am with you”.


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Blind spots


God bless my blind spots

Bless the people whose eyes I cannot see,

give to them surfeit grace

that overlooks the blindness of

my log jammed eyes.

And while you bless them,

may you also bless 

the naked image I see in the mirror

as for the very first time,



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