Tag Archives: Poetry

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,
tears, 
laughter, 
questions, 
an imagination 
and a dance.

 

 

andrew norton

New Year’s Day 2014

 

 

 

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January 2, 2014 · 7:47 am

First light

Image

 

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

wakes,
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

splinters,
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

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

Andrew Norton
Dec 2013

 

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The invitation

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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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A New Day

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With eyes acquainted with the dark
may the first light of morning awaken within you a beautiful question;
one that unlocks doors
bolted by yesterday’s grief
and the harsh and unforgiving words
you have spoken to yourself.

May the sun spill light
into the cracks where the residue of darkness hides
inviting you to walk without fear of what lies within.
On these virgin sands of time coming to you as pure gift,
may you be embraced by a concept of grace
that sets you free to begin again.

Untie the string around your finger
as you remember forgotten dreams,
like a song that has been waiting to be sung,
listen for the long note played by the most gentle touch of the bow.
May it resonate with the one true note within that is you
and dance your dream into this day.

Andrew Norton, Switzerland, July 2013

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The Return

Walking backwards into the past I stumbled upon standing stones,

guiding me on tomorrows way.

Not seeing at first,

I retraced my steps to discover where I had come from.
Silent witnesses speaking from ancient pathways,
rocks holding memory,

wind breathing,
and tidal cadence in perfect time
with life’s first note.

Bruised from the fall,
wearied of soul,
and a hunger of longing

compelled me to take
a pilgrimage
Home.

Andrew Norton
London, July 2013

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