It can be seen on YouTube:

I did manage to take Bronwen to a favourite cafe recently, and as we sat in the sunny courtyard and watched happy shoppers, I was inspired to write this poem.

**********

I sit and sip my latte

And watch as passers-by

All go about their business;

Walk determined; heads held high.

They seem to have no cares at all

No stumbles, aches or pain

Their laughter and their banter

Make a warm spring-time refrain.

I muse about the last time

I took days in my stride;

Talking, walking, driving;

Purposefully occupied.

Not shackled by pain management;

No cause to make me think

Of how to do what I must do;

What not to eat or drink.

But who knows if they also

Watch me and think the same.

For neither me nor they

Know our backgrounds or our name

Who knows the inner conflicts

Masked so easily with a smile;

What problems each is wrestling

Set aside for just a while..

Appearance is deceiving

And each of us cries out

For some recognition

Of what we’re all about.

“Judge not and we shall not be judged”

But deal to all the same.

Who knows the love we proffer

Will touch some unseen pain.

During that trip a little voice inside me seemed to keep telling me that I should “slow down and smell the roses”. I did resolve that I would not travel so much without Bronwen and to seriously look at adjusting my lifestyle. There was also an inner sense of foreboding that I needed to do more than just think about slowing down.

I ended up writing a poem about my musings. I did not realise at the time just how prophetic the third verse would turn out to be. Till now I have only shared it with Bronwen. In the light of events over the past 9 months I think it might be opportune to let others read it (and hopefully heed its warning!):

Slow down
(D.S.Duncan, June 2008)

Slow down –
Impassioned, yet so easily bored
Too many goals lie incomplete;
Your ceaseless drive makes others tired;
Your visions, out of people’s reach;
And joints barked raw from scaling rocks;
It’s time you learned to –

Slow down, and smell the roses;
Flow along with God’s good plan.
Cease from striving
And conniving:
The dove can’t settle on a storm-tossed bough.

Slow down –
Consider God is never late
His promises to you endowed.
Don’t agitate, but contemplate
How He perfoms the things He’s vowed.
No need to try and force locked doors;
It’s time you learned to –

Slow down, and smell the roses;
Flow along with God’s good plan.
Cease from striving
And conniving:
The dove can’t settle on a storm-tossed bough.

Slow down –
Your plan to slow is ne’er today,
Until some crises strikes your plans
And trouble comes to dog your way,
Then it’s taken from your hands
You’ll have no other option then
Too late to learn to –

Slow down, and smell the roses;
Flow along with God’s good plan.
Cease from striving
And conniving:
The dove can’t settle on a storm-tossed bough.

REMEMBER - this was written 4 months before I was diagnosed with colorectal cancer plus secondaries in the liver!

SOME REALITIES IN THE VALLEY OF DEATH

Two wounded dragons* passed by o’er two days
Both in such pain as they mooched on their ways:
He could not make himself heard for her ears;
She grappled frustrations while facing her fears.
He did not realise he’s not long to go;
She – much to do with him now, then to cope!
Clashes of pain, of hopes and lost dreams;
Time may be less than originally seemed.
But God quenched the fires, lanced the shock, gave them back
The arms to embrace and all else that they lacked.

(DSD – January 2009)

*Bronwen has no objection to the use of the word ‘dragons’ as she agrees that probably best described our demeanors.

Cancer is so limited…
It cannot cripple Love,
It cannot shatter Hope,
It cannot corrode Faith,
It cannot eat away Peace,
It cannot destroy Confidence,
It cannot kill Friendship,
It cannot shut out Memories,
It cannot silence Courage,
It cannot invade the Soul,
It cannot reduce eternal Life,
It cannot quench the Spirit,
It cannot lessen the Power
Of the Resurrection.

Life’s clichés

If a faith-lift’s what you need
And you’re down at the mouth
The heat is on and you can’t stand the pace
Get on your knees and wait on God
And He’ll transfuse His strength
So you’ll leap through any hoop
And hurdle walls.

If you’ve said that you would die
If you had to front the crowd
Death to self is what He wants for then His power
Will enable you to do it
And the crowd will be aghast
As the Master gets the praise
For what they see.

If a mass of crocodiles
Makes you lose sight of your goal
And it slips your mind you came to drain the swamp
Remember what God did for Dan
When thrown among the lions
What God did to shut their mouths
He’ll do again.

If your gas tank is empty
And there’s nothing left to give
And your get-up-and-go just got up and went
That’s when the Father starts to give.
For out of nothing He makes worlds
He turns serpents into fish
And stones to bread.

When life has turned to custard
And then you’re served a lemon
And your time is filled with silly trifling things
Pour the custard on the trifle
And add sugar to the lemon
Set the table and enjoy
A cordial feast.

When you cant see the highway
For the tears that you have shed.
When you come to ‘wits-end-corner’ and you’re lost
God who knows the way will meet you
In a bottle store your tears,
Slip into the driver’s seat
And steer your life

It’s a paradox
A heavenly paradox
That Jesus turns our failures into joys.
He who died to die no more
Lives to even up the score,
So for those who own His name
He’s Guarantor.

2-11 Narita

(set to the tune: ”Hamabe no uta” by Narita ) Click on the media player to hear the tune in the background as you read the words.

Light in my long night

My soul in distress cried aloud in dread,
Oh my God, I feel so alone;
The night is so cold, and I can’t see ahead
And my strength is almost gone.
Where is the joy I knew when
My faith was fresh and young?
So dark! Are You there? How have I sinned? What’s wrong?
Rend the heavens and speak again.

My child, you are safe in my powerful hand
Do not fret, but rest in my care
My Word is your rock, what you feel is sand,
I am with you everywhere.
My way is in the tempest
My purpose to refine.
And when, just like gold, you are purified
I’ll in you be glorified.

Now, shut in with God, I have found new peace,
Though the storm has yet to subside.
In midst of my foes He’s prepared a feast,
And my soul is satisfied.
Not dark, nor pain, nor peril,
Can separate me from
The love of my Saviour, Redeemer, Friend,
Who’s restored to me my song

Not my will but Thine
Creation trembles at the Master’s plight:
Like Him I wrestle with my vows
The test of values I espouse
A heart divided cowed with fright
Can’t nerve me for the coming fight.

Not my will but Thine
My will would have me save myself and run
The blasphemy of sallow faith:
From duty’s call to seek escape;
Safety first, makes cowards run,
‘Tis not the focus of a son.

Not my will but Thine
His will, to face the danger and the foe;
To crush the tyrant’s dark campaign;
Release the captive from his chain;
Restore creation and bestow
His glory on it here below.

Not my will but Thine
Sees past the fight to conflict won.
No hint of resignation’s blight
But an embracing of the fight
And echo with heav’n's favourite Son
The vict’ry shout, ‘Thy will be done!’