Spirituality

Poem 949 – Ely Hears the News (The Ballad of the Wake cont.)

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The news of Hereward’s return soon spread
And reached the Abbot Thurstan,
Who wrote from Ely deep in the Fen,
Where he and other most resolute men,
Were set upon a brave defence,
Against King William and contend,
His decision to impose a French monk
Over every one of them,
Down to the very last person.

O Ely, island of the marsh,
Beloved by Mother Fen,
Whose towers stand above its mists,
And tenderly its wetlands kiss,
Concealing paths and trails that twist,
From eyes of devious men.

Word of Hereward’s return reaches the Isle of Ely.
(22.07.26)

© Ben Quant 2026
Photo Bob Jones / Ely Cathedral / CC BY-SA 2.0

Poem 931 – The Chapel

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A place of steeped in prayer,
Where liturgies of hope,
Have polished heart and beams.
Where panels echo to
The beat of spirits’ breath,
And stones are smoothed by grace.
We join the timeless one,
Converging generations,
Come, Lord Jesus, come!

Inspired by a chapel at the centre where I’ve been leading a retreat for the Sierra Leone Mission today.
(04.07.26)

© Ben Quant 2026

Poem 923 – A Heavenly Blacksmith

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The furnace of the African sun
Was the perfect place to forge a friendship,
To meld our souls, two servants together.
It only seemed appropriate that
This friendship was restored today
Under the blaze of this burning Sun.
As one we walk in different fields,
A common life in different cultures,
Together refined by Christ the Son.

In an act of perfect symmetry I was reunited with a friend from Sierra Leone in a heatwave reminiscent of my time there.
(25.06.26)

© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Vincenzo Marotta on Unsplash

Poem 914 – Mike

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Thunderbirds are go,
or so you used to say
(unlike the trains you loved –
are those llamas on the track?!)

Ham sandwiches and mustard,
you waved me on my way,
with home made flags and cheering,
on my saddle-bound holiday.

(Remember the size of the restaurant
plates we ate from? So large
I thought we’d never make it
to the end. You did.)

Sniggering in meetings.
Inappropriate jokes
at serious moments. Laughter
invaded toil and lightened.

As a mentor in Salone,
generous in wisdom.
Gaps between meetings grow
but birthday cards still come.

Until this year. They stopped,
I fear, no more. We used
to pick up where we left off.
One day, I pray, we will.

We said goodbye to a dear friend yesterday. It isn’t a great poem and won’t make to much sense to others, but it’s been good to remember shared moments in the past.
(16.06.26)

© Ben Quant 2026

Poem 900 – The Visit

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Heart beating, nervous, how will you be received?
You tentatively knock upon the waiting door,
How will they react to the life that you’ve conceived?
Will they question what you’ve come here for?
Your years are few, a tender maid, perhaps,
A bud not fully bloomed and yet in you
A seed is laid that one day will climax
Upon a tree and there be proved so true.
And on that day all questions will be yours,
The sky turned black, your future darkened too.
Will it have been worth it, the struggle and the toil,
This life the angel invited you to choose?
But opening the door your cousin’s pregnant too
With joy the unborn child leaps in her womb.

A sonnet for the ‘Feast of Visitation’.
(02.06.26)

© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Linford Miles on Unsplash

Poem 899 – Devoted

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A precious afternoon
With no prior agenda
Devoted to each other
Listening and reminiscing
About old times, old friends
And sharing time together
‘Cause nothing else matters

An afternoon spent with an old friend whose time with us is drawing to its end.
(01.06.26)

© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Anne Nygård on Unsplash

Poem 886 – Selina

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I see her familiar face across the room.
Head resting on her hand she is distracted,
her mind on matters out of sight to me.
The casual nature of her arm appears
a little forced, her back is straight, her face
is stern, it’s almost as if she has to brace
herself to pause; I want to speak and make
her stop and slow, to cease her constant churn
and yet, although I’ve known her for so long,
she knows me not at all and never will.

Inspired by a portrait of Selina, the Countess of Huntingdon, who founded the movement of churches I am part of.
(19.05.26)

© Ben Quant 2026

Poem 874 – Placing My Cross

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Election day today and so
I place a cross inside a box.
As I grip the stubby pencil
it brings to mind another choice,
not in a temporary booth tucked in
a deserted primary school like this,
but outside a dusty city wall
where hung a man who cast his vote,
a cross marked with his crimson love.
His vote? A vote for all: for strangers,
friends and enemies, for those
we chose to love, and those we chose
to hate, and those we do not see.
A vote with open arms and cast
with generous vulnerability.
Placing my cross inside a box
I pray I won’t do that with his.

It’s the local elections today and it will be fascinating to see how they pan out, it all feels very different from usual. As seems to so often be the case, how we perceive and treat those who are different from ourselves seems to be very much an issue.
(07.05.26)

© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Phil Hearing on Unsplash

Poem 871 – Evensong

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Sunday evening, sat in church praying,
Our stumbling voices stutter to
A halt, uncertain of how to talk.

Sitting uncertain in our circle,
We’re startled from staring at our feet
When suddenly a new voice speaks –

A jubilant robin, his joyous song
Penetrating the awkward silence
Sounding loudly inside our sanctuary.

His trilling tongue entices us;
A Jacob’s Ladder leading from heaven
To lift us to the Lord above.

His notes remove the massing gloom
And melody delights and lifts us;
Before too long we find our voices.

In Sunday’s evening service we were treated to a beautiful solo.
(04.05.26)

© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Josh Applegate on Unsplash

Poem 862 – Anywhere the Wind Blows?

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Humility, a fragile flower blown
by wind and whim, its petals pulled in weakness,
confetti scattered at others’ casual command?

Or robust root, a quiet confidence
that’s born in understanding who you are,
releasing shoots that see and serve and love?

I was at the funeral today of a friend and mentor, a strong, quiet, humble man.
(25.04.26)

© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Markus Spiske on Unsplash