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The Speechless Sing - Page 12

  • Clearing Poetry

    Written in the refectory at Iona Abbey, whilst staff worked and guests created poetry

    Clearing poetry
    Active thinking
    Knowing doubt
    Cooking words
    Chattering pen
    Shaking image
    Wiping ideas
    Cleaning nouns
    Spraying verbs

    Watching workers
    Passing cups
    Writing tables
    Revising cloths
    Looking aside
    Sitting un-still
    Thinking laughter
    Silent greeting
    Telling task


    © Craig Muir 2010


    Creative Commons License
    This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 2.0 UK: England & Wales License.

  • A Life Poem


    I presented a twig

    with the hint of a bud.

    “A chance of life?”

    “Yes, m’duck ”

    And Easter came.

    I point across fences

    at the fruit filled life.

    “We’ll walk around”

    “Where’s the fun?”

    And Easter came.

    I looked on forlornly

    at the pile life leaves

    “It can’t be done”

    “No such word”

    And Easter came.

    I stand broken and tired

    at the foot of life’s hill

    “Where to from here?”

    “Hang on tight”

    And Easter came.

    Craig Muir, February 2010

    This poem is inspired by my Mother-in Law, Barbara Smith. She had a number of sayings that coloured the way she lived life. It was a positive can do outlook that brought plants to life, enjoyed crab-appling, acquired cuttings and found practical solutions to any problem. Whilst the incidents and sayings are personal to the family, I hope the poem expresses the potential of Lent and you will see Easter come.


  • Speechless

    I've just discovered that I am listed as a URC blogger which comes as a bit of a surprise as I've been speechless for almost a year - and that was a rather poor entry.

    Not sure why I've been speechless - perhaps a lack of confidence about talking in public about a new situation; certainly a feeling as time has gone on that there is nobody reading anyway; and a degree of creative block that has even led to sermons with three alliterative points!

    It is a year since we arrived in Coventry, so perhaps it is time to begin some public reflections on the situation here, but really I want to try and write some poems and prayers - not least to try and get out of the lazy habit of borrowing from books and t'internet.

    However the first new reflection is personal. Amongst our reasons for coming to Coventry was a wish to be a bit nearer to Chris' Mum and Dad in Leicester. Sadly within the year, that purpose has worked out. Her Mum died last week after a short illness and on Saturday we will share a Service of Thanksgiving for her life - always unconventional she has donated her body to medical science and so there will not be a conventional funeral. She has been a constant feature of half my life and no longer will my days by interspersed by the telephone ringing and "Hello Duck ..." and some cryptic message that really meant that Chris was to ring her back. No longer will I be hauled out of reading their paper by the line "That's right isn't it Craig?" wondering what on earth I'm supposed to be agreeing to. No longer will I be worn out by her sheer energy - and I only ever knew the slowed down version! No longer will plants be brought to life and cuttings "acquired" She could be funny, exasperating, thoughtful, opinionated, shy, indecisive, but if a practical thing needed doing she would get it done.

    Her spirituality was the quiet sort, I know there has probably been a prayer said for each of us every night that we have been part of her life. She wasn't one for church - but sent her daughters to Chapel and I think was always a bit bemused to have a son-in-law who is a Minister not a Vicar. In the last week she prepared herself for death, said her goodbyes to each of us and slipped away in the early morning - at slug hunting time - with no fuss. She will be annoyed that we are going to make a fuss of her on Saturday, but as Den says, "She deserves it" and as Barbara always said, "There's no such word as can't"