Where we are

These past two weeks I have been thinking about the word grace and what it means but it somehow seems at odds with the unfolding war in Ukraine. The weeping eye mural painted in Cardiff by the street-artist MyDogSighs says more to me than the numerous news reports I read each day. What words can express the pain and sorrow? And how in the light of this situation can I write about grace?

I set today aside as a writing day. I wandered around the beautiful valley. Then read the news. I started to write about Ukraine. And then I started to write about grace. Neither was quite right. And then a friend suggested I write about both together. It was a passing comment, but I needed to hear it. She has been thinking about Thomas Merton’s words: Humans have a responsibility to their own time… a responsibility to find themselves where they are, in their own proper time and place, in the history to which they belong and to which they must inevitably contribute either their response or their evasions, either truth and act, or mere slogan and gesture.

The following poem and images are my response to Where We Are.

Stay and rest a little
Weary wanderer
Eyes wet from weeping
Mute
Bombarded
Endless yet inadequate
Words penned by journalists
While two million flee
Run for refuge
Then wait
On this moss-cushioned seat
Look beyond the broken
And observe the beauty
See the signs of new life emerging
Rising from the dying lands
Ancient, storm-battered trees
Still reaching for the light
The river ever coursing its way through
Undeterred by obstacles
The gentle creatures
And faithful pairs
Standing together
Take a moment
Where you are
Open your eyes
To glimpses of grace