Jenny is an elder of our Chatton church, and appears to be seventy-one.
I'm an old lady! How can this be?
Old ladies are sweet, white‑haired, rosy‑cheeked,
Sit still and get waited‑on, visited, venerated.
Valued, looked up to. Always polite,
Dressing in Crimplene, made up and corseted,
Correct and serene.Not me! None of the above!
Should I wear purple? Been doing that for years!
What about the red hat? Too hot for my ears!
Comfortable in my skin, but not with the world,
Grieving for poverty, injustice, cruelty
Done in my name.But still, I enjoy life, dashing around!
Painting and singing,
Panting on treadmills,
Playing pianos,
Praying with full heart,
Weeding occasionally,
Living my garden,
Loving my friends,
Adoring my family.Who cares if I'm seventy‑one!
Life is sweet!
Subtle as silk
Slides the sea
Over the causeway,Separating the island,
Island of peace,
From the mainland.Renewing her strength,
Ready once more
For the pilgrims.
O Lord, I dedicate to you my slight and soggy soul,
As, in Meeting silence, I go into myself,
Into the depths of my trivial, superficial life.The stillness deepens.
Breath is silent, coughs and sneezes unimportant.Sinking, I rise through the profoundness of the spirit,
My spirit, our spirit, your Spirit.A hesitant voice shares wisdom, experience, love.
Response, half‑smiling, deeper silence.Traffic, the church clock, passing voices
All seem to come from a distant world.The hour draws to an end. Normality is resumed.
We are more ready to serve in this world,
Your world.
He laughed at me!
One look, and he laughed at me!
This baby, loved grandson, four months old,
Hadn't seen me for two weeks,
And he laughed at me!O, blessed confidence, never to expect rebuff,
Blessed innocence, not to expect anything
But love and food and comfort!In love let me remember,
When I enjoy his smiles,
The other babies, starved of food and love,
The children, tacking both
And forced into war, and need, and prostitution.God bless them all, and grant them recognition
Of love, whenever they meet it.
And swell the hearts of the lucky ones,
Their brothers, their sisters,
To realise their brotherhood in you.
Walking in hope,
Grounded in God,
Waiting and yearning.Sometimes far off,
Out of sight,
Out of mind.Always with us
In this life
Even in despair.