He stood back.

I didn’t know,
I saw it coming.
Until it came.

He called less and less.
And when he did call—
I could feel the detachment:
The little emotional battlement,
Resurrected, as protection.

He would retreat to that inner place
That place where all he heard,
Were the vacant cries of a broken heart,
The hallow bellows of taunting devils.
He must protect that darkness from the light.

He closed himself in—
A hermit with only the voices:
Of dread,
Of doubt,
Of hurt,
And addiction.

The damn broke.

It got too hard.
This making it on his own.

He was Atlas, but no god.

The last place to find help, the phone,
Only more voices there.
Would those outside voices help?
Or could they talk him bloody, too?

Just need to make these roiling voices stop.
Just need to make this ache, this hurt stop.
Just need to make the roaring loneliness stop.
Just need… for just a while.

And so—
Let cups of ferment flow.
Let little drops of sleep swallow.
Let tomorrow be a long way off.

Little one,
There are voices here that care for you.
There is a voice right here shouting,
“I love you!”

More than words, or miles can tell.
There are people, yes only people, here;
People who want to love you.
Who want to tell you they love you.

People who've heard those voices inside,
People who've beaten those voices,
Who want to help you beat them too.

Little one,
There are voices here that care for you.
There is a mighty voice—
All around.

A voice that cries out!
With blood and stone and all creation,
A voice that runs red with love for you.
A love that has beaten those dark voices, many times.

That mighty voice is there too, inside of you.
You must believe he is deep in love with you,
And hear with love’s ears that mighty voice calling.

Oh little one,
There are voices here that care for you.

Little one, let us love you!

for my friend

Disturb us, Lord

Disturb us, Lord, when
We are too pleased with ourselves,
When our dreams have come true
Because we dreamed too little,
When we arrived safely
Because we sailed too close to the shore.
Disturb us, Lord, when
With the abundance of things we possess
We have lost our thirst
For the waters of life;
Having fallen in love with life,
We have ceased to dream of eternity
And in our efforts to build a new earth,
We have allowed our vision
Of the new Heaven to dim.
Disturb us, Lord, to dare more boldly,
To venture on wilder seas
Where storms will show
Your mastery;
Where losing sight of land,
We shall find the stars.
We ask you to push back
The horizons of our hopes;
And to push back the future
In strength, courage, hope, and love.
This we ask in the name of our Captain,
Who is Jesus Christ.

Sir Francis Drake

The Seekers

Friends and loves we have none, nor wealth nor blessed abode,
But the hope of the City of God at the other end of the road.

Not for us are content, and quiet, and peace of mind,
For we go seeking a city that we shall never find.

There is no solace on earth for us—for such as we—
Who search for a hidden city that we shall never see.

Only the road and the dawn, the sun, the wind, and the rain,
And the watch-fire under stars, and sleep, and the road again.

We seek the City of God, and the haunt where beauty dwells,
And we find the noisy mart and the sound of burial bells.

Never the golden city, where radiant people meet,
But the dolorous town where mourners are going about the street.

We travel the dusty road till the light of the day is dim,
And sunset shows us spires away on the world’s rim.

We travel from dawn to dusk, till the day is past and by,
Seeking the Holy City beyond the rim of the sky.

Friends and loves we have none, nor wealth nor blest abode,
But the hope of the City of God at the other end of the road.

John Masefield

Prayer of St. Aidan

Leave me alone with God
as much as may be.

As the tide draws the waters
close in upon the shore,

Make me an island, set apart,
Alone with you, God, holy to you.

Then with the turning of the tide
Prepare me to carry your presence

To the busy world beyond,
The world that rushes in on me.

Till the waters come again
and fold me back to you.

29. Reconciliation

I begin through the grass once again to be bound to the Lord;
I can see, through a face that has faded, the face full of rest
Of the earth, of the mother, my heart with her heart in accord,
As I lie ’mid the cool green tresses that mantle her breast
I begin with the grass once again to be bound to be Lord.

By the hand of a child I am led to the throne of the King
For a touch that now fevers me not is forgotten and far,
And His infinite sceptred hands that sway us can bring
Me in dreams from the laugh of a child to the song of a star.
On the laugh of a child I am borne to the joy of the King.

George William Russell