Lay for the Day 4th March

A seasonal song.

The Ground

I reached to speak familiarly of God.
By self-elevation there is no way to him.
Come, soul, and we will walk along the ground, not tiptoe.

The cherry tree buds against the cold,
green sparks along the branch.
The sparrow gang heads up,
heads down,
grazing the paving for crumbs.

And a woman with black and white down
round her one-toothed mouth
folds her bent hands, waiting.

John Gibbens, from Church of Thorns

The Lay Reader: an archive of the poetic calendar