Christian poetry

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CHRISTIAN POETRY A LT H E A H AY TO N


CHRISTIAN POETRY

Copyright Š 2014 Althea Hayton

Althea Hayton asserts her moral right to be identified as the author of this Work. All rights reserved.

Published as a PDF e-book in 2014 by Wren Publications PO Box 396 St Albans Hertfordshire AL3 6BY

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CONTENTS PILGRIMAGE The stone (By the Lake of Galilee, 2000)

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Pilgrim (Nazareth, 2000)

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Footsteps (On pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela, 2005)

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FROM THE BIBLE Love is (1 Corinthians 13)

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Healed (Luke 5: 27-32)

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Peter (Matthew 14:22-33)

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Pure Nard (John 12 : 1-8)

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The Woman at the Well (John 4: 1-42)

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Easter Abundance (Revelation 7:16)

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Manna (Exodus 16:1-36)

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Pentecost (Acts 2:1-3)

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More writing by Althea Hayton

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CHAPTER 1

PILGRIMAGE Written while I was on pilgrimage - the first to The Holy land in 2000 and the second to Santiago de Compostela in 2005� ~ Althea

THE STONE I held a stone from Galilee Damp and mossy from the lake The stone was mute and cold yet it spoke to me Of honesty and unchanging faithfulness Endurance and patience Through the long years, waitingBut on such a rock He died. On such a rock they built a church that has the world in its grip. Capernaum, May 2000

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PILGRIM Every step a prayer; every thought is stilled Every wish is humble; every heart is filled. Here among the churches built above the roof Of churches deeply buried lies the deepest truth. Pilgrim: are you thirsty? The waters I provide Will slake your thirst forever if you look deep, deep inside. Pilgrim, do you suffer? Enter pain with me Come into my suffering and I will set you free. I ask no more than everything; I take no more than all. I give you love, eternity - if you will only hear my call. Pilgrim, are you listening? Stop a time and feel The soft, slow beating of my heart that stillness can reveal. Remember I am waiting in all the deepest places I am there in every pilgrim, in the sad and lonely faces. I walked these roads barefooted; I came today with you. Pilgrim, do remember:-I am a pilgrim too. Nazareth, May 2000

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FOOTSTEPS The way to Santiago de Compostela

The Milky Way was always there to guide the men to Finisterre All dressed in skins and woad For the journey made the meaning and the footsteps made the road.

Then routes from England, Spain and France brought pilgrims here and not by chance Santiago was the node So the journey was the meaning and the footsteps made the road.

Each pilgrim step a perfect prayer and psalms and praises filled the air But hunger was the goad In the journey was the meaning and the footsteps made the road.

With scallop shell and staff and hat they had no rucksack, boots or mat They took the lightest load The journey was the meaning and their footsteps made the road. 5


Now from all nations pilgrims walk; they laugh and struggle, share and talk In every style and mode. The journey is the meaning and their footsteps make the road. And in each heart a mystery: Santiago is the key: They walk to crack the code And the journey is the meaning and their footsteps make the road. Those who seek for meaning in depression, pain, despair and sin Can count each episode For the journey is the meaning and the footsteps make the road.

Walk on, Pilgrim! In your heart, the healing is about to start; You’ll find a safe abode, For in your journey is the meaning and your footsteps make the road.

Written while on pilgrimage to Santiago September 2005.

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CHAPTER 2

FROM THE BIBLE LOVE IS (1 Corinthians 13) Love is waiting in kindliness, always aware That the one who is loved is so precious and rare Love is the effort to show that you care Love is sharing your life and your heart and your will With another who even in wrong loves you still Love is the yearning that loving can fill Love is humble, not pompous or jealous or vain That forgives every error, again and again Love is the mercy that heals every pain Love is gentle in justice and fair in remorse Speaking the truth as a matter of course Love is the greatest available force Love is a covenant with a good friend The highest and greatest, to make and to mend Love is hopeful and faithful, stays true to the end Love is loving and loving is love 7


HEALED (Luke 5: 27-32) I lay paralysed and in despair. I had forgotten hope. I did not hear you call me, but my friends were moved in faith. Your voice of love and words of healing resonated in them, Inspiring them to work in strength and harmony for my sake. The milling crowds were blocking them as they carried me to touch you But I lay helpless and ashamed of helplessness. I did not care. And together as I lay in helplessness they lifted up my poor pallet My legs dangled in deadness for my body was not my own. All around me was activity, as they struggled to remove the roof tiles. My heart was lifeless. I was in despair. My friends heard your call but I did not. Was it something in the air that lifted through the hole they made? Was there something in the crush of hopeful bodies, reaching out for you? What soft spirit came to me as I was lowered through the roof? Why was there sudden silence in the crowd as I lay helpless at your feet? I heard a deep voice speaking but my dead heart could not hear it Only in my spirit something stirred and began to wake. They spoke of sins and faith but I did not understand, For pain too great to bear had come to me and I could not run away. But the power in the pain woke my spirit and at last my heart burst open 8


And I was ready for your word when you said I was forgiven. My heart, my spirit and my body heard the words The power of the pain came to me as a healing touch. I lay in glorious peace and stillness, and my spirit was awakening: They debated healing over me yet I was already healed. And yet there came a greater good that I did not deserve: Your words were in my ears and I knew that I could walk. I fixed my eyes on yours and felt your healing goodness The power of your love became my power and at last my limbs were mine. I stood in silence in my ragged robe; the empty pallet lay beside me. I must walk, and take my bed with me, to show the people. Slowly, for there had been many years of lying; Gently, for there was still some pain; Joyfully, for the faces of my friends were glowing; Thankfully, for I was given a new body; Strongly and with increasing strength I walked.

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PETER (Matthew 14:22-33) The Lord had abandoned me, and I him I was left in darkness. But in the morning I heard His call To struggle further to reach Him Where he stood upon the sea.

I tried but failed, and was helplessly lost But I felt His hand, strong and firm, Raise me up.

He lifted me out of the darkness And set me upon the sea. I trod upon it and it did not not yield to my step.

Firm in faith, helped by my Lord, I walked with Him across the sea To a safe place of absolute calm.

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PURE NARD (John 12:1-8) Mary then took a pound of very costly perfume of pure nard and anointed the feet of Jesus and wiped His feet with her hair; and the house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume.

In the depth of the heart of a man lies pure nard; It is the fragrance of sweet felicity Tanged with sharp suffering and costly sacrifice.

I will anoint you; I will break my heart and anoint you.

In the depth of the vase lies pure nard. It is the smell of life in a place of death, It has cost me my life.

I will anoint you. I will break the vase and pour it out.

Held in a rigid, cold pot, decorated with symbols of heaven, The nard lies ready for the anointing. The spices of the East mingle with the oil of the West.

Pure nard - costing so much more than everything. I will anoint you but first you must break.

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The hard carapace must crack, The adhesions in your flesh must tear. The groan of your soul must force the hard case open.

In the cry of pain as sin dies You will be anointed, fresh and new.

You will be broken that I may pour you out. I will anoint you with tears - for hearts will breakMy love will flow over you, The greasy fragrance will soak and soften hard skin.

Your feet with emerge soft and new Like a fresh-born babe who has not set foot upon earth.

I will anoint you; I will be broken; I will be poured out; I will be emptied I am the nard.

Note: Nardostachys was a herb known in ancient times as "nard" and, later, as spikenard. It has soothing and pain-relieving properties.

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THE WOMAN AT THE WELL (John 4 1-42)

That man was asking me for water And at once I knew my own thirst; My parched soul swelled as living water flowed through me.

That man was tired and weary, and yet strangely I had journeyed with him on the same long road. I was weary of the struggles as I went through life And resting there, I knew my weariness.

That man spoke to me my own shameful secrets I was exposed and healed by his knowledge of me I had always thirsted for the knowledge that I was known and yet loved And being known, I knew.

That man said he was the Christ He spoke of food and water and an end to thirst, My grateful soul leapt into new life And I, the worst sinner of them all, brought the people of the village to him.

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EASTER ABUNDANCE (Revelation 7:16) I brought you apples; spilling over the basket, rolling into the corners. They were all for you but you did not see. I placed them carefully into a shallow dish, each gleaming pink face A promise of tangy crispness, but you would not look.... In your lonely, fruitless searching there is only hunger for you While I, laden with abundance, am in the orchard, drowning. I brought you apples; they were misshapen, a little green perhaps, But they promised sweet goodness : you turned away My apples are not good enough for you; they are small and scabby And I will weep for you in your starvation as my uneaten apples fall. There was an apple once that started the whole story; once picked and eaten God threw us out of Paradise, but here are apples for everyone! Here are apples, ripe for picking; here are apples of every shape and size. Here are your apples, my apples - food for all in abundance.

Now there can be no more hunger or thirst. Come - come and eat. God has visited his peopleHe is risen. He is Harvest. Note: Easter is harvest time in Israel.

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MANNA (Exodus 16:1-36) In the misty morning manna came silently; Across the desert the grey filaments spread thinly But I was searching the heavens, oblivious of this gift.

I looked skyward as I cried for rescue The cloudless sky promised no rain, no future for me. I was starving in the desert and I knew no hope.

The manna lay waiting as I cried into the hills. I strode blindly across the feeding fields Unknowing, I crushed the food beneath my feet.

They said that manna would mend my aching heart But what feast could ever fill this echoing emptiness? How could such insubstantial stuff become my living bread?

But when the others came, their baskets brimming With tons of manna harvested in faith I watched them feed and heard their song of joy.

So, with hesitating fingers I took one fragment: I placed it cynically on my tongue - just to taste. At once, that tiny filament of food infused my heart with hope.

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PENTECOST Acts 2:1-3 In the crowded room I longed for solitude: A chance to pray and learn from God. People all around me blocked the silenceMy heart raged and longed for stillness.

High up into the hills I wandered Searching for the Spirit I knew lived there; In my arrogance I knew that I would find What others were ignoring in their noisiness.

Then I looked down on the crowded room And saw the Spirit resting on each head. In the midst of many sang the Spirit Essence of all wisdom, counsel, love and joy.

Humbly I returned to sit among my neighbours And opened up my heart to love.

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MORE WRITING BY ALTHEA HAYTON

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