Triptych

(i) Mother and son

It’s when I open your wardrobe
to hang up one of your blouses
or to fetch a cardigan
to drape over your skinny autumnal shoulders
that I suddenly feel like weeping

For I glimpse the hollow sight
that will greet me when you’ve gone:
these same clothes
hanging from their wiry coat hangers
charity-shop-bound

Oh that your body was not wasting away like this
that we could walk
hand in hand
around the garden under this generous October sun
sharing love and smiles and health
both confident of spring

(ii) Prayer for mum

Call ahead to the angels
and let them know:
A faithful servant
approaches your gates

Ask them to prepare for her
a place at the table of her Lord
in the presence of all those
she has ever loved
May her eyes behold His grace and glory
May He call her by her name

May she drink from the living waters
of the river of eternal life
in heaven
as on earth

Quench, oh Lord, her pilgrim's thirst
and may the cup
of her loyal heart overflow with
kindness and with joy

(iii) Leaving Iona

The firm geography of the island
dissolves before my tearful eyes
as we cross
The Sound of Iona
bound for Mull
and then the mainland
and then the long journey southbound home

Swiftly the village
shuns the Abbey
forcing it to seek sanctuary
within the eastern lee of the flanks of Dun I
upon which the ash
of your flesh and bone
now lie cradled
by that elemental trinity of rock and sea and sky