The vase has begun to slip

I gasp in horror.


I will fight every step.


But if it falls

I think I will be staring

At the shards at my feet



Light Dark Light

Light. Dark light dark, light. Light. Sun and shadow play on the back of my eyelids – the sun pre-eminent and constant, the shadows brief and few.

And with my eyes shut in the moving train, I saw. I saw that this was how it is with the Christian life. His light ever shining on us, overpowering and blinding, purifying. The shadows are but fleeting and futile. Always His light envelops us again, searing His image at the back of our eyelids, our minds, our hearts.