Poem 799 – In Hoc Signo Vinces

Whilst marching with your men, a mighty vision
rose up in the sky, a sign above the Sun.
Both crisp and clear this vision of the cross
emboldened you, bright burning with the order,
go forth and in hoc signo vinces.

‘Born again’, baptised by Eusebius
and strident with new faith, you set to war
the cross enshrined on shining shields and
having defeated all who fought your fearsome sword, you sit serene upon your throne.

But in your daring did you ever doubt
such conquest by the cross of Christ who sought salvation not by sword but sacrifice?
This man made mighty by humility,
his love will ever stand above your reign.

Outside York Minster sits a statue of Constantine, the Roman Emperor who’s ‘conversation’ led to Christendom, the joining of the power of the state to the church.
(21.02.26)

© Ben Quant 2026

Poem 798 – York Minster

This mighty edifice imposes itself upon
the horizon, a brutal slab of stone. It thrusts
into the sky distorting gravity;
we stand before its feet and sway.

Above an array of monarchs, saints and grotesques
stare down at us, distorted faces worn
by age and weather. Their bulging eyes follow
our fleeting lives that form and fade with the wind.

For the last few days, York Minister has been the dramatic backdrop to our lives, what an amazing building.
(20.02.26)

© Ben Quant 2026

Poem 782 – Towards a Theology of Tyre Changing

A concrete campus, garage forecourt,
stacks of tyres worn and discarded.
The sound of pounding machines within
and artificial scents without.
This domain’s devoid of photosynthesis;
no life, no beauty, God vacated –
even the sky is overcast.
But where can I go to escape your Spirit?
Where can I flee from your presence?
Below the mechanic works with care;
a craftsman worshipping with his tools.
In his hands electrons fire around
circuits like neurons, bringing metal
limbs to life, machine creation.
Discarded tyres will be redeemed,
reborn as seats for children’s play.

Another poem inspired by yesterday’s trip to get the tyres changed.
(04.02.26)

© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Egor Vikhrev on Unsplash

Poem 770 – Rest Awhile

The winding week is done, its work is over
The veiling night draws near, now dim the light
Its time to take account of all its triumphs
And put its problems prayerfully aside

Once ready, rest awhile and rediscover
That peaceful place that every person needs
Recall your core, your heart, your cornerstone
And gladly let the God of grace within

It’s Friday night!
(23.01.26)

© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Giorgio Trovato on Unsplash

Poem 765 – Hope

Hope, the belief that things can change,
that just as night turns into day
these troubled paths can be rearranged.
Hope, the belief in a better way
than we experienced yesterday.
Hope, the belief that despite the past,
there’s more to life than fickle chance.

I wasn’t sure what to write tonight and so picked out a form I hadn’t tried before, a Chaucerian Stanza, which uses an ABABBCC rhyming pattern.
(18.01.26)

© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Ryan on Unsplash

Poem 756 – The Way

Amidst the chaos there lies a line.
It weaves a way, a golden thread
of grace, not chalk or string, through life’s
varied and unpredictable maze.

A fragile thing, at first it seems
too fine, invisible and prone,
and yet, persistent, it somehow snakes
through life’s ragged ups and downs.

A golden thread that is not precious,
that rolls up its well worn sleeves,
knows life in all its care and messiness,
that dares to tread the dangerous street.

It does not force, or bend, or break,
it simply finds a way for feet to trace
when eyes are dark, imagination
spent. This path is known as love.

It’s been a week of trying to find a way through some tricky pastoral situations.
(09.01.26)

© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Vasilica Ciocan on Unsplash

Poem 751 – Psalm of Thanksgiving

To the tune of Hark the Herald…

Father God we thank you for:
Family that comes from all over,
Children and grandchildren that bring us joy,
New friends, old friends, good friends getting older,
Dogs and goldfish, don’t forget the guinea pigs,
Health and healing, sunshine and the rain,
180 thousand raised so far
and lots of guests on our Alpha.
Father God we thank you for
Mercy and forgiveness that on us you pour!

Last Sunday, we drew up a list of things we were grateful for from the year that was just finishing. It was suggested that perhaps we could make a song out of them, so here they are, slightly adapted, as used in our service today to the tune of a well-known Christmas carol.
(04.01.26)

© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Wilhelm Gunkel on Unsplash