Relationships

Poem 684 – Unaware

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Stepping out from safety’s bounds towards
The unfamiliar, outside the manicured lawns,
The Father carries the Son within his arms.
The stillness strange, all sounds ring out unreal,
An eerie feel pervades the morning air.
A squirrel seems surreal, a beast at large.
But from his seat he has no cares, the child
Has eyes only for his Father’s face, the two
Absorbed in conversation’s gleeful flow.
One points, the other laughs, they pass my bedroom
Window, both unaware that they have roused
My soul and stirred my weary heart with hope.

Walking in the last morning of Conference today I was more than weary; as always it has been demanding. The passing sight from my window picked me up, however, a glimpse of the love The Father has for all his children.
(29.10.25)

© Ben Quant 2025

Poem 681 – Look At These Stones!

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Look at these stones!
They stand so proud, so strong, so powerful.
How could they ever fall or fail, these stones?
These men of steel, they’re always men it seems,
with dreams of empire celebrated by
their self-erected statues to their honour.

Look at these stones!
These city walls that reach up to the heavens!
These tall towers built on stocks and shares
that tear the timid down to clamber high.
Exchanging life for digits gleaned, they rise
demanding that we bow before them.

Look at these stones!
These AI gods we’ve built in silicon,
their algorithms fashioned in our image,
our blindness coded deep within their souls,
lurking unseen, unknown, because
we do not even know it in ourselves.

Look at these stones!
But even stones don’t last forevermore,
these brittle bones that break will fall away.
One day the oblivious wind will blow them down,
their monuments will fade, decay to dust,
and as the sun descends they’ll dissipate.

Look at these stones!
They are but sand and every one will pass.

This morning we reflected on Mark 13 in our service, in which Jesus responds to the disciples awestruck comments on seeing the Temple, surprising them by predicting its fall. It made me wonder what our stones are today.
(26.10.25)

© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Jaymon S on Unsplash

Poem 679 – Run!

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When cares collide, sometimes I cram them in
a tin. Tapping the lid down tightly, I hope
to keep them contained, concealed and under control
until I have the time to take them out
and dust them down to deal with them. Sometimes
the tin begins to tremble, threatening
to pop its top and pour its contents upon
the floor, a flood of feelings exploding violently,
crashing indiscriminately without a care.
Beware of what might happen if you wander
nearby when noticing this introvert
begin to blow!

Don’t worry, I’m ok, just messing around with alliteration!
(24.10.25)

© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Toby Elliott on Unsplash

Poem 677 – As One

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Making contact when conversation
doesn’t work, when words are sounds
that don’t come back, a look remains
ambiguous, devoid of meaning.

The simple joy of nursery rhymes
sung in a circle, face to face,
that bridge the gap, enliven souls,
provoke a smile and joining in.

The thrill of holding toddlers in the
palm of your hands, provoking laughter,
and drawing those who played apart
together into unison.

One of the joys of my week is doing time at Toddlers. It’s a magic moment when we caught up together as one.
(22.10.25)

© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Priscilla Du Preez 🇨🇦 on Unsplash

Poem 668 – Brief Encounters

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Our eyes meet.
Not across a crowded room
or pulsing dance floor
but in the train window,
falling upon each other’s
reflected against the backdrop
of a quickly changing landscape.
This is, of course, exactly
what we were seeking to
avoid. We flinch confused,
not certain what to do,
before shifting our focus
to gaze upon the verge.

Being English on the train means avoiding human interaction. On Saturday evening I failed despite my best efforts.
(13.10.25)

© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Kiwihug on Unsplash

Poem 649 – Impossible Tightrope?

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Attempting to both
Move into the neighbourhood
And be a pilgrim

Walking the tension
Between putting down deep roots
And living lightly

Trying to invest
In other people whilst not
Losing his footsteps

I’m currently reading Joanne Harris’ new book Vianne, which explores the risk of losing freedom by putting down roots, and in so doing captures the tension as some Christians present it between being ‘in this world but not of it’.
(24.09.25)

© Ben Quant 2025

Poem 647 – Embracing Awkwardness

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The respectful awkwardness
When something is said that everyone
Disagrees with and yet
The decision has been made
That all are welcome here.

The love that says we’ll hear
Your views and not dismiss
You or your right to speak
Because we value you
And therefore what you say.

The tension that we live with
Because we are a family
And that’s what families do
As relationships are more
Important than being right.

I love watching groups embracing awkwardness instead of insisting on their own interpretation, political view or doctrine.
(22.09.25)

© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Kenny Eliason on Unsplash

Poem 643 – Three Sandwiches

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A Bacon Sandwich:
Two slices of bread with meat in between,
The perfect blend (forgive me veggies),
Both perfectly complementing each other.

A Marken Sandwich:
Two gospel stories intertwined,
The second tucked inside the first,
Giving meaning to each other.

A Human Sandwich:
The symbiotic network
That comes from living in community,
Identify found in relation to each other.

We’re looking at Mark’s Gospel at church and how he structures his narrative to communicate to us. Tonight we talked about the Marken Sandwich.
(18.09.25)

© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by amirali mirhashemian on Unsplash