Snippets from Simon

  Peter’s Pensive A reading of Acts 10:34-43 among other things I knew those timbers Their sparkle in the dawn light And the way they Shimmied along the sea. Fish, they held and I left them. Followed another who knew Timber, and other things. He told stories, healed and Saw right through me. Later, I bore witness to his Hanging on a tree. It became a cross. Symbol of death. But he made it A sign of new life.   Simon C. J. Falk, Easter Sunday, 17 April 2022. Images from the Sea of Galilee, 2010.

 This is a retro post of poems from 2019 that were originally on WordPress. Picture: Olive Grove, Garden of Gethsemane, Jerusalem, Israel (February 2010). I Couldn’t Go to Jerusalem or Good Friday For Christians, Good Friday is a day to remember a life lived, and given away for others, even in suffering. This is for those who want to remember, but are not able to join others in Churches. I couldn’t go to Jerusalem – My mother-in-law just Died And we are mourning as Burial is prepared.   I couldn’t go to Good Friday – I’m a nurse But I saw the arms of the cross In the open arms Of a man Reaching from the chair As I moved him To his bed.   I couldn’t go to Good Friday – I’m at Lifeline Taking calls But I heard the cry “My God, why have you abandoned me!” In the tone of a caller Still reeling from abuse By one once trusted.   I couldn’t go to Good Friday – I’m old and My days of driving Are in the yesterdays of my life. Family staying here Won’t take me to Church It mea...

On the Prospect of Not Celebrating Easter this Year Will Christ not rise again This year For us? Is he in fact Still Dying among us? In those succumbed To COVID-19. Or is he Still Dead? Is he in the tomb With us? Quarantined from life Before rising Infected and decaying With the virulence Of toxins? Of needy-greedy panic Grabs at shopping shelves? As panicked voices Constantly ask questions What about this? Or that? What now? What now indeed. Will there be no people As the body of Christ Holding their candles Light in the Lord? Signs that Christ Has risen And shines In us and Among us? Or are we consigned To private piety, In our own place, So foreign To genuine faith That seeks to hold us together As parts of the body Of the Risen Lord? What of this distant, Isolated, Seclusion? Dying alone In the dark And waiting In the tomb? When will we rise? When shal...