What is the turning ?
First we must see
a world that’s unreal
we’re sure is reality.

Snow thickly falling
shrouding us in cloud.
We’ve lost our bigger story
linking us to Source.

Instead we have…Santa Claus ?
Our so-called big society,
its vain political promises
and substitute sky.

One global village, maybe
but abstracted above the land
our own true feelings
replaced by instant chat.

This is the realm of Ahriman
bonding us to matter
that we think we ‘must have’
filling the inner void

while Lucifer gazes on
a lopsided Narcissus
full of his own image
only Christ, who is ‘I’, can counter

standing between them…
and without our being there
we’re living in a driven dream
where Money is God

worship and security
until the bubble bursts
the rug is pulled—
it all falls through

till we start to see
we must have sufficiency
not greed, our wants and needs
hopelessly confused, fused

growth at any price—
resources privatized—
and money, our social currency
that only exists because we trust it

toyed with like a sex shop doll
by the private sector, for itself
only returned through us
to the realm of common good.

Meanwhile the world is on fire
and we are on fire with it
feeling it as we never have
intolerable as it is

(there’s nowhere to turn
a blind eye to anymore…

issues come out
of every crack and door—)

all in one crucible, flask, athanor
the gold of a thousand mornings
hidden in the blackening
and this saltwash of tears.

Earth, our circumference
and wholeness in Creation
we have to return to,
the wisdom of ages

the living Book of Nature
burnt to our reading
until we break free
of our techno-idolatry

coming back to soul, source
the Living Word, love
breathing here among us
within all our names for it

beyond all our conditions
freed from manipulation
become the thing itself
in manifestation…

Love, our salvation
one church across the world
one faith, one turning
in the ground of our being

Love in this turning
of everything between us
from hate into seeing
all we have been

and these fragile flames of hope
tealights lit in a line
quivering in the morning sun,
back in the Garden of Life

the evening lights of the town
glittering, bejewelled, neon
in the whitening dark
that is Bethlehem and birth.

This is our story
where we all have a place
in how we live and choose
and move through every day

beyond you, me and she—we
unfolding this tapestry
that is all we can be
in truth and beauty.

One World People
among the diamond seeds of dawn.




Jay Ramsay


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