1274

My birthday's eve, bright sunlight and clear skies,

A morning shopping for the plastic cups,

Bowls and crisps and nuts.  No need for pies

On days like this as  spring time gently ups

The anti towards next weeks Jack-in-the-Green,

And the release of summer, though he must die

That crops might rise, birds mate and the lean

Winter months be just a memory.

How different from that day of endless grief

When you walked out to face a vile death,

Spat upon, derided, in belief

That what you did had meaning, and the Breath

Of Life, which freely fills my soul today,

Died in you, so I won't have to pay.

Brian Hick 29.4.13

©Sally Hick 30.4.25

 1266

Which way forward, given I am confused

And silence is the order of the day?

How can I decide when all's unclear?

No prophecy to point me on my way,

No sudden insight, message from above

No flash of light, no laws I must obey;

Just a feeling that I have to change,

Be positive, rather than this drift

From one unseemly moment to the next

Hoping that this one will give the lift

I need, the gentle breath to rise above

The dulling clouds and know the Son's bright gift.

Brian Hick spring 2013

©copyright Sally Hick 28.4.25

 1265

I know your silence is more palpable

Than any chatter here or holy writ,

But when I need an answer I'd prefer it,

As a human, if it chanced to fit

Within the normal range of understanding

Like talking to a friend for wise advice

From somebody I trusted, not demanding

Obedience on the strength of ancient vice.

I realise of course I'm daft to ask it

Given that nobody that I know

Has ever had a peep out of you lately

And problems here on earth just grow and grow.

So why, despite the evidence I fear,

Do I still believe that you are here?

Brian Hick  March 2013

©copyright Sally Hick 25.4.25

 1264

Little Robin

Your chirrup

Stops me writing.

All I can do

Is laugh.

Brian Hick March 2013

 1354

The yew tree stands in silent witness to

The centuries of faith that sanctify

This quiet place.

The yew tree stands in silence as it did

Before the barrows grew, the Long Man stood,

The cursus ran.

The yew tree stood and I am silenced by

Its age, its witness and its dignity

Encompassing.

Brian Hick March 2014

©copyright Sally Hick 23.4.25

 1263

If I'm a writer, why can't I write?

For the last few days I've felt no need

Or rather, every time I've tried to find

A reason to do so, my mind is blank,

Nothing inspires or drives me to set down

Ideas which might have meaning just beyond

The trivial accidents of daily life.

And so I wait, but increased frustration

Demands I set down something, even if

It only fills a space upon a page,

Adds another number to the list

Which will be ignored eventually

As I try so sift the meaningful

From amongst the reams of meaningless.

The snow has gone, the sky is clear again.

Swans drift past like a corps de ballet

Waiting for their entrance in Act Two;

Geese are wary but the ducks ignore

The aquine aristocracy as they

Squabble over bread the tourists throw

Or early shoots along the river bank.

Brian Hick March 2013

©copyright Sally Hick 21.4.25

 1262

Nice thing about rain;

No one tries to collar you

To save the Pandas.

Brian Hick March 2013

©copyright Sally Hick 21.4.25