Poems from the Heart

By Kevin Ward

This volume is a collection of selected poems which capture a view of life as seen through the lens of advanced years. They deal with looking back, looking forward and a lot of looking around as life unfolds. The writer blends the gifts of a Celtic vision and a mystical approach to life. Though the writer comes from a Christian ba

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ukiyoto Publishing
• Release date: Mar 3, 2023
• ISBN: 9789360494735

Book preview

BOOK 1 - When God is Near

In the Garden

I went to prune my roses and

got lost in

the beauty that was theirs.

Clipping the while and apologizing

to the roses for

any pain I caused,

I spotted my neighbour’s daughter

as she danced by.

She paused in innocent curiosity

and stared.

‘Good morning,’ I said trying to break the     

silence.

She ignored me and

attended only to the roses.

‘Your roses,’ she lilted, finally,

‘your roses are very lovely.’

She said it again, smiling,

and then danced on.

I stood there, not too sure if I

should see to my roses, or

gaze at God who had

just danced by in the guise

of a little girl.

Let Me See

Was it the sermons or

the setting or Divine design

that let me see myself as in a mirror

those days of my retreat?

I cannot say.  I

am not what I was.

Or maybe, I am what I always was

but never knew it:

God’s beloved,

pleasing in God’s eyes,

as we all are.

What would you like me to do for you?¹

the Master asked the blind man.

I choose the latter’s answer to be mine:

Let me see again.

¹Bible Mark 10:51

Rocks

Great rocks – God-placed or man-erected – speak!

Tell me of times when the world was and I wasn’t, 

or was I always?

Who knows?  I know not – God knows.

That is all I ever need to know.  My

little knowing, after all, is hemmed in

by moons and suns, thus many

and then I go where rocks seem not to go

to God-knows-where.

But if God knows,

Amen.

That is enough for me.

Christmas

When I was young and

Christmas came around

it was a time of specialness:

of snow that stole upon the lawn

surprising us at dawn

with its Kashmiri softness;

of seasonal songs

and lights on trees;

of cribs and stars and wise men

from afar, searching

for an illusive Someone

reputed as a King

newly come, and strangely,

to our earth.

That was before the markets

stole the magic and dressed it

in the trappings of

bottom lines and commerce

of bells and silly Santas

to mislead the rabble.

Real Christmases have a magic

of their own

full wrapped in mystery

beyond all telling

and far removed from markets.

Christmas speaks rather of a God who

so loved the world as to

doff Divinity and come to earth

as Christ or Krishna

and be as we are,

vulnerable,

to enable us to be

as God is,

beatific.

Theology is replete with

big words and still bigger

that baffle our little minds.

Suffice to say that we

are mirrors of our

God incarnate

in such a wise that God

can look at us

and see God’s self

reflected in our

very being.

To such a dignity have we been raised

that only thanks can prove

a proper prayer

to God who does in us

what we