Spirituality

Poem 356 – Nothing Is Forever, But…

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SONGS can be sonic portals, dioramas,
OF youthful memories long forgotten,
A door through which, released, our senses tumble,
LOST landscapes wherein we dance with arms outstretched,
a WORLD of angst yet somehow hopeful.

I’ve been listening to The Cure a lot recently, especially their latest album, the terrific ‘Songs of a Lost World’. Despite Robert Smith’s obvious awareness of aging and mortality, and their classic gothic sound, I find so much of their music strangely uplifting. (And yes, that is me in the photo…)
(17.11.24)

© Ben Quant 2024

Poem 353 – The Tree

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This heart,
With reaching veins
That stretch out heavenward,
And arteries penetrating deep,
Births life.

A short one tonight. I discovered the cinquain poem form this morning, that has a pattern of 1, 2, 3, 4, 1 stresses in each line in turn, and thought I’d have a go. The shape suggested the content.
(14.11.24)

© Ben Quant 2024
Photo by Brandon Green on Unsplash

Poem 349 – Remember

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Pin on the poppies
Line up the flags

Lay out the wreaths
Grieve for the past

Stand still in silence
Remember the dead

Hold onto our history
Learn from those left

I had the privilege today of speaking at our local Scout Group’s Remembrance Sunday event.
(10.11.24)

© Ben Quant 2024

Poem 339 – Ghosts

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I am haunted, accompanied by ghosts,
the shadows from my past that lived and laughed
with me, shared my life, my joys and struggles.
These shades have made me who I am, they are
my friends, my skin, my thinking and my guides.
They aren’t to be exorcised but celebrated,
recognised, remembered, invited in.

At Halloween I celebrate my friends and family that went before me.
(31.10.24)

© Ben Quant 2024
Photo by Erik Müller on Unsplash

Poem 337 – Hopefully-Not-A-Talking Heads Haiku

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We’re on the road to…
Somewhere, but we don’t quite know
Exactly where yet!

The second day of our church movement’s annual conference is done, and so am I – I help run it and only ever make it through with a combination of adrenaline, caffine and prayer! We’re on a journey over the three days of thinking about where we’ve come from, where we are, and where we might be heading next.
(29.10.24)

© Ben Quant 2024
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LQiOA7euaYA
Photo by rafa espada on Unsplash

Poem 334 – A Life Given

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‘O that I may be
more and more useful
to the souls of my fellow creatures.

I want to be every moment
all life, all zeal, all activity
for God, and ever on the stretch
for closer communion with him.’

A life poured out fully.
Every single
last
drop.

On Monday I’m giving a talk at The Connexion conference on Selina, the Countess of Huntingdon. In my preparation I’ve been struck and struck again by the way she dedicated her whole life to her work. The two opening stanzas are her own words.

See also Poem 327.
(26.10.24)

© Ben Quant 2024
Portrait by John Russell, used with permission of Trustees of the Cheshunt Foundation, Westminster College, Cambridge.

Poem 333 – If Only

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If only could go back and remix my life
so that it sounded like it was always meant to.
I could boost the passion, dial back the doubts,
urge myself forwards, embrace life more deeply.

I remember one quip in the playground, spoken
in haste and forty years on I still regret it.
Perhaps I could bring it down in the mix, so quiet
its shame is no longer heard, its punch not felt.

A pause could be inserted, allowing me
to think before I wrote that thoughtless letter.
The words were driven by the selfish moment,
and didn’t really reflect my ongoing feeling.

I’d certainly turn up my decisions for you, get out
out of my comfort zone, increase the effort.
In hindsight the focus needs to be shifted, like all
guitarists I tend to make it all about me.

Queen have been the soundtrack to much of my life. They’re about to release a remix of their debut album, to make it sound as they always wanted it to at the time. Made me wonder what else we could remix to make it sound as we’d meant it to.
(25.10.24)

© Ben Quant 2024
Photo by Joel Chavarría on Unsplash

Poem 327 – Selina

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For such a time as this
a woman placed perfectly
within the social web.

Restricted by her sex
but bold in faith and hope,
she rejected expectation.

Ensnared by Love she weaved
compassionately a net
to catch her wary peers.

With tea and conversation
she welcomed with her chaplain
noble and politician.

Meanwhile the miner, unschooled
children, the poor and sick,
also received her care.

And as this web was woven
a grace filled spell was cast
entrancing church and country.

I’ve been reading up on the finder of our church’s movement, Selina, the Countess of Huntingdon. What a remarkable woman, to me, the Esther of her age. She deserves to be remembered so much more than she is – and a better ode than this!
(19.10.24)

© Ben Quant 2024
Photo: Selina Hastings, Countess of Huntingdon by Unknown artist oil on card, circa 1770 NPG 4224 © National Portrait Gallery, London. Used with permission.

Poem 317 – Yesterday’s Mystery Visitor

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I encountered a stormtrooper
standing at our food bank.
I wasn’t expecting that.

He stood expressionless as
they always seem to be.
Who knows what he was thinking.

Was he plucking up
the courage to ask for help?
It isn’t always easy.

Or was he on a fact
finding mission? A watching
brief to assess choices?

Perhaps he was simply lost.
Again, that’s not unusual,
but I’m not so sure.

I didn’t know what to
say and so I asked
if I could take a selfie.

I’d like to think he smiled
under his helmet. At least
he didn’t shoot me back.

It’s a long story…
(09.10.24)

© Ben Quant 2024