... in tidying drawers
It just so happens that when you’re tidying drawers things from the past tumble out. In this case onto the floor. It was an old first unedited edition of a poem by Paddy Purnell.
Written in red because he was Welsh and proud of it, that poem was mere “scribblings “– His words. I always admired Paddy and his deep wisdom and his genuine consternations often gave me comfort. His scribblings were part of that consternation that was sourced from a deep mysterious love affair.Despite his questionings on many aspects of the ‘Religious Life’ (itself questionable)his love for Jesus was for real, however troubling and however difficult it was to find words. The poem is very much that struggle to express in words – flimsy clumsy inadequate though they be – something of that ache, that yearning, that howl and cry out of which the Universe of and for love was formed.
Today I was reblessed from a yesterday of 25 years ago. What is time in the presence of Eternity?