Back to the Garden, A Prophecy

1. The Peacock in the Garden | A Prayer of Oblation

2. The Garden in Brazil | A Daily Office

3. Are You The Gardener? | A “Holy Week”

Posted in Horror & Terror, Love, Nature, Poems, Theme for 2025 | Comments closed

Are you the Gardener?

The sun has just risen,
Eve is shaking me,
“Are you okay?”
I am in a cold sweat
Head to toe,
I am having heart palpitations,
I am sobbing.
“I had a vision.”

“There’s a new emperor,
He gives
A vicious order,
His soldiers kill him.
New Rome now turns
Into a fire ball,
I feel a million people die,
My heart can’t cope.”

“Oh sweetie, I love you.”
Eve holds me tight.
Later that day
My heart is
A bit calmed down.
She says, “You know
You have to go,
It is time to get up.”

“Time to be a prophet.
Go tell them
It was because of men
That we were caste out of Eden.
Tell them what horror
Is to come.
Many will not be able hear you,
Often you will not be invited back.

Go tell them that their God
The Trinity,
Father, Son and Holy Ghost,
And his creator,
The Emperor, are dead.
And now it is time to accept
The-always-been-there
Invitation back to Eden.”

The Prophet struggles
In polite company.
As a mention of
Unfathomable cruelty
About to be inflicted by men
Shatters the nice comfort
Of the moment
And ruins the taste of dessert.

His host throws
Up her hands,
Physically recoils from his words
And demands that
The Prophet stop talking.
He can’t
He continues
With a zen like koan,

“Can you wrap
Your arms around
A nuclear bomb after
It has gone bang?
What kind of mushroom
Is this to expand
Your consciousness
And love?”

“Where did this all begin?”
She asks, “This madness?
What God would allow this?”
The Prophet says,
“Don’t you know it is The Trinity,
Father, Son and Holy Ghost.
Male dominance is reaching
The limits of its expensiveness.”

“When was The Trinity born?”
“In the year 325 no less,
When another Emperor
Summoned what is said
Is 318 men
To divine who gets to be God.
They decided Father, Son
And, a gender suspect, Holy Ghost.

They focused mainly
On the clearly men
The Father and the Son.
The Son became a type of superhero,
With a “kingdom come” command
To create presumably
A king dominated world,
A single male crowned.”

“The philosopher has said,
“God is Dead.”
On 16th of July in 1945
God, The Trinity was killed.
Trinity was the first atom bomb
To come alive and in its blast
The Trinity God died,
Aged 1,620 years.

Man thought he had become God.
As Trinity exploded
To the radiation of
“Now I am become Death,
The destroyer of worlds.”
He did not realise
That he had destroyed God too,
And we’d all have to pay the price.

There’s been no funeral for The Trinity
But the funeral pyre is ready,
It is New Rome itself.
The preparations are in progress.
It will be a fireball
You do not want to watch.
Blinding, a searing scream
Will ignite in your soul.

Is your heart open enough
To feel a million deaths at once?
And have you remembered to
Have a defibrillator to hand?
Will the nuclear attack
Look at you like Medusa
With her hair of serpents
And just turn you to stone?

What is your plan?
Get ready to kill
Your neighbours to survive?
Build a bunker now?
The men of avarice
Will pull the pin, press the button,
Give the code, just to prove
They’re a bigger fucker than the other one.

They always have done this.
And with each generation
Tricking nature
To give up her power,
The hungry new men
For money and clout
Grab her technology
As their own
Without consent.

They leave ethics
And morals in the dust
Of their pyramid-building schemes,
Thinking they get to have it all
And take it into the next life.
A bullying they go
Wondering who they can dominate
Pretending to be gods.

Wondering if they are now
Lord Shiva
The destroyer himself.
They forget where the power
Originally came from,
The nature of the goddess herself.
She never gave up the power
She lent it to us on trust.

With the Christian God dead
It’s probably time to turn to
Some other gods for help.
The men should have known
That Shiva is accountable
To Kali no less, the slayer of demons,
The great transformer,
Ender of ignorance, fear, and ego.

Kali who demands
The end of the poverty,
Hunger, untreated sickness,
And oppression.”
Kali says,
“I am not amused.”
As she whirls around
Cutting off the heads of demons.

“I am not out of control.
This is the rage
That every woman feels,
And everyone who still has a heart
At what the men with their Trinity God
Father, Son and Holy Ghost have done.
They have unleashed
All our anger at once.”

With a commanding voice
She summons Lord Shiva himself.
“You are not here to calm me down.”
“Get down!” “Get down!” she shouts.
He obeys, face down and is covered
In the ash of the human corpses,
Ash that is radioactive
For 10,000 years.

“I will not let you up Shiva
or allow you to get married
Until you have made me a promise.”
She stomps all over his back.
He is unable to get up,
Unable to move,
He is pinned to the ground,
Motionless.

She stomps, “Shiva assure me
That every man in the world
Has taken on the ethic
That every person in the world
Deserves to be treated well,
Regardless of money
Gender, race, tribe, caste, class
Or God.”

She stomps, “Shiva assure me
That you will make them
See this blue and beautiful world,
Full of life-giving nature
That feeds the people,
And that they will guard the soil,
And the temperature,
And stop their poisoning rapture.”

She stomps, “Shiva assure me
That you have instructed men
To bow before Wisdom,
Wisdom herself,
To receive a tear of hers
In blessing,
A tear of suffering generated
By The Trinity, The God and The Bomb.”

“And they must dedicate their lives
To end this drop of suffering
And accept further tears to come.
It is now time to build
A rejuvenated world
That can survive the hubris
Of a male God.
It is time to head back to Eden.”

Lord Shiva says, “I will teach men.”
And she lets him up.
Kali announces
“It is time for your marriage
To Sri Meenakshi
Who lives in the largest
Active goddess temple
In the world,

In the city of Madurai,
In Tamil Nadu,
In southern India,
Lives Sri Meenakshi
Who has inspired more poets
To write more lines to her that to any
Other goddess in the world.
We so need her help today.

Tell me,
How do you two plan
To celebrate your marriage?
What sort of party
Will you have?
Who do you really
Wish to invite?”
Shiva and Sri Meenakshi reply,

“Now the Christian world has no God
And their God has been burned
On a funeral pyre
In the fireball of New Rome
And so many people are dead,
We invite the women of the Christian Gospels
To have their moment
To define their God anew.”

“We invite their descendants
To come and convene
Just like the 318 men did in 325.
And we will ask them
To read their gospels carefully
And explain what is this love story
Of men and women
That births new life.”

“We will ask these women
To define words
That capture a glimpse of God,
And write a fitting creed
That does not lead
Back to The Bomb,
That leads us
In resurrection love.”

“The women will come
From all over the world,
And from many faiths to debate
What is said in the Christian gospels,
And they will restore the significance
And embrace of women
Who co-created the gospel love
For us to light the candle of everyone.”

“They will come with Mary
Who defied the patriarchy
And arranged marriage
To have a baby
She wished to have,
And sang so
Magnificently of leaders bowed
And of the poor raised up.”

“They will remember
The Syrophoenician women.
Insulted, she stood her ground.
She stripped Jesus of his tribalism
With her annoyingly persistent love
So, he’d heal her daughter
And heal himself
To become a true messiah.”

“They will write a new creed.
They will define a new god
With the feminine in love with men.
Ultimately, they will come with
Mary Magdalene
And go to the tomb,
To meet the gardener
We all need to become.”

“No, she did not mistake him
For the gardener
He was The Gardener
He is The Gardener
He is The Gardener of Eden
Now Mary Magdalene
And The Gardener
Issue an invitation.”

“Come back to the garden
Where you will be safe,
Where nature will be respected
And poverty ended
And prosperity will be in balance.
And let us each say,
“I am death, I am the creator of worlds.
I am one with the cycle of nature.””

The Gardener says,
“I am different from those men
Those subjects of a Roman Emperor
Who created The Trinity, the God
And Trinity The Bomb.
I am a man of harmony and kindness.
Come men in love, come to be adored.
Don’t stay in paradise ignored.”

Eve and I stand this evening before
The gates of paradise found.
Somber with suffering,
Praying for healing.
Two sprawling tigers block our way,
Sentinels, blessed by Wisdom’s tears.
They allow Eve and the snake to pass,
But I am stopped.

A tiger growls “Who are you?”
And I reply, “I am the gardener.”
I am let in.
And Eve runs over to me
And kisses me passionately,
And can’t stop
And leads me by the hand
To our abode, finally we are
Back in the garden of love.

A “Holy Week”

“Are you the Gardener?”
Was written at Sitio Leela,
Rio Grande Do Sol, Brazil
March 2025.

Back to the Garden, A Prophecy | 1. The Peacock in the Garden | 2. The Garden in Brazil | 3. Are You The Gardener?

Posted in Horror & Terror, Love, Nature, Poems, Theme for 2025, Theme for the Year | Comments closed

The Garden in Brazil 

This Morning 
After a nightmare
I can’t change,
I awoke in a garden
In love with Eve 
And the snake,
Savouring the apple,
Trusting my intuition.

Together at Noon
Totally pursuing 
Pinnacle power,
Finding enough to make 
A mass difference,
Loving the hard work,
Building not pyramids 
But Jerusalem.

This Evening
Eve and I,
Stepping out to celebrate,
Issue an invitation: 
Come friends and family 
And strangers unknown,
Let us go dancing 
On a carnival date.

Now at Night 
Let us roost, make love 
To create paradise
For kids to come.
Join us now 
In this Eden
To sleep well,
Before it’s too late.

A Daily Office


Back to the Garden, A Prophecy | 1. The Peacock in the Garden | 2. The Garden in Brazil | 3. Are You The Gardener?

Posted in Grief & Wonder, Horror & Terror, Love, Nature, Poems, Prayer, Theme for 2025 | Comments closed

The Peacock in the Garden

Loitering,
I shriek out a striking call

Shimmering,
I fan out my feathers 

Warning,
I array my eyespots 

Alarming,
I count human bad luck  

Dazzling, 
I display my being

Winning, 
I convince her 

Inspiring, 
Let’s do something

Beautiful together!

A Prayer of Oblation


Back to the Garden, A Prophecy | 1. The Peacock in the Garden | 2. The Garden in Brazil | 3. Are You The Gardener?

Posted in Grief & Wonder, Love, Nature, Poems, Prayer, Theme for 2025, Theme for the Year | Comments closed

On the Beach

There was a man who had haunting prophetic visions, so bad he looked out to sea and wished he could swim and be swallowed by a whale. But a mermaid appeared and made him laugh and forget and in the forgetting she reminded him of joy, nature and beaches, that “now” can be paradise and he smiled.

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Tiger loves Carnival

I stride out,

Padding softly,

Focus bright.

My keen eyes on,

The obstacles of man

Blighting Sophia’s hope.

When I see Sophia crying
Lady Wisdom herself
So profoundly sad.

If I need to, I roar.

If I need to, I snarl.

If I need to, I bite.

Mostly I pad

Along in love,

Sniffing out my fellow mighty,

I hunt them.

Charge playfully into
The back of their legs.

Together we kneel
Before poverty in all its forms,
Offering healing hands.

Will we count
On our fingers
Reasons to smile?

Will we count
Hearts not bleeding,

But beating to rejoice?

Will we count
Clapping hands
Celebrating success?

Will we count
Carnival rhythm
And join the dance?

Will we crown
Sophia as our queen,
Celebrating all of us?

This is my daily hunt,
A charging fight of love
For wisdom herself.

Now you know
Why I love Sophia
And sing

Tiger loves Carnival


“Tiger loves Carnival” is an adaption of the poem “Tiger & Sophia”

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Tiger and Butterfly

Tiger,
You have a butterfly
On your nose.

Tiger,
What do you
Have to say?

I know, it is a Monarch butterfly
I like it there,
Watch!

Tiger shakes his head,
Butterfly holds on
And is still there.

Tiger says, I will have
No forest, no land, no dominion
Without Butterfly.

Butterflies and flowers
Adore each other’s beauty,
Getting on with the business of life,

Pollination,
Natures’ new growth,
Exchanged for nectar.

Then we get fruit,
Food to feed all,
All the animals.

So I care
That caterpillars can eat
On the ground, on leaves.

I love listening
To their chomping
And see them turn into chrysalises,

But so vulnerable,
I make sure they are safe
And can transform,

I see them metamorphose
Into their butterfly potential,
Hatch in all their beauty.

So, I know every caterpillar
Wants to eat
And become a butterfly.

Tiger asks Butterfly,
What do you
Have to say?

We will invite Sophia,
Lady Wisdom herself,
Mother of all children,

She, who has been crying,
She, who has been so sad,
To come our forest.

Sophia looks in wonder
At the magnificence of Tiger,
At the magnificence of Butterfly,

She marvels at the flowers,
Their fragrance
And so many colours.

Tiger and Butterfly weave flowers
Into Sophia’s hair,
Invite her to dance.

They ask Sophia,
What do you
Have to say?

The caterpillars used to starve.
The chrysalises were not safe.
The butterflies did not hatch.

You are not that tiger,
Snared and captive,
Of the cruel circus,

Jumping through hoops,
Performing
For the sale of tickets.

Oh Tiger, I love that,
You are free
Knowing the cycle of nature.

I love you
For caring that caterpillars
Become butterflies.

That butterflies and flowers
Give us honey and fruit,
The bounty of life,

Filling the forest
With thriving animals,
A cycle that is right.

Yes, let’s profit
Without weeping and sadness
And do nature’s bidding.

Tiger, let me give you
The biggest hug.
Butterfly, alight on his nose.

Tiger, go forth,
Bound ahead
In a cloud of butterflies.

Posted in Love, Nature, Poems, Theme for 2024, Theme for the Year | Comments closed

The Tiger is Here

photo of tiger and cub lying down on grass

My soul
Does magnify
Sophia

The presence of the tiger
Standing magnificent
With a roar declares:

My stance
My whiskers
My alertness

My pink nose
My piercing eyes
My perked up ears

My twitchy tail
My scent markings
My territorial scratchings

My snarl
My ferociousness
My prowl

My prance
My bounding
My pounce

My bite
My kill
My lips

My taste
My breath
My heartbeat

My every ounce
My squint-eye smile
My happiness

My purr
My paws
My claws

My fur
My stripes
My all

All
All magnify
All magnify Sophia

My wild heart beats
My soul sings
And oh

I see her, Sophia
Lady wisdom herself
I bound up to her

She is crying
She is the pain-bearer
Mother of all children

She wipes her eyes
She pets me
I nuzzle her

Now blessed
With one tear
I bound forth

Purposeful
Using my power
To end a drop of suffering

Reveling in healing
Joy ferociously
Ending despair

I chase back to Sophia
For another tear
Arriving again I declare

My soul
Does magnify
Sophia

The tiger is here.


This is the second “Tiger & Sophia” poem, the first poem is The Tiger & Sophia

Photo by Waldemar Brandt on Pexels.com

Posted in Love, Nature, Poems, Theme for 2023, Theme for the Year | Comments closed

Awake to Ukraine

Sunrise at Pigeon Cove, Rockport, Massachusetts, USA March 2021
Sunrise at Pigeon Cove, March 2021

There is a dawn moment when the heavens are blue and the sun creates yellow above the horizon of the sea and you see a blue with a yellow stripe emerging beneath and at that moment we awake to the flag of Ukraine.

Please get up in the morning and reflect on the sunrise and the values that we wish to arise in us and the values that we wish to grow and we wish to make happen. But the sun will rise quickly and the bright light will blur all and the busyness of the day will flood into our lives and we will forget the point that we need to remember when we awoke.

We can live in horror at one man’s poverty creating destruction on another land, the brutal attack and destruction of the sovereign nation of the Ukraine and systematic murder of its people. And we need to hold that and remember and not forget but we also need to have a horizon that we can look out to and set sail towards. It is a horizon of our values that we want to rise to and we know that are true, are kind, are good, that build a loving and prosperous world. May we see the Ukrainian flag on the horizon at dawn and wake to work throughout the day to make life giving values alive for all.

So I give you a picture, taken from my home in March in 2021 at dawn, showing the sun rising at that moment when the Ukrainian flag can be on all our imaginations as the horizon of our hope. Let us wake, look out and remember Ukraine and the values of wonder in our hearts that we want to make real in the world and decide what sacrifices we will make this day to make wonder come alive for every person in the Ukraine and for every person in the world.

This reflection was inspired by the artist Karen Tusinski who paints stunning pictures of the horizon in Rockport Massachusetts and who has painted a Ukrainian flag on a canvas and placed it in the window of her gallery. I’m asking artists to paint pictures of the Ukrainian horizon to keep us inspired.

Posted in Grief & Wonder, Horror & Terror, Love, Nature, Poems, Prayer | Comments closed

The Psalm of Change

Please read like a psalm and pause at each selah (asterisk) *

Slowly we breathe,

  1. We support a space, singing an ode to “we,” men and women * and however we identify.

Slowly we breathe

  1. We support a space where we can be open, be imagined by the best in all of us * to do the most for those with the least.

Slowly we breathe

  1. We support a space safe of no accusation, of no oppression * where anger can arise and blossom into inspiration.

Slowly we breathe

  1. We support a space for the feminine voice * and for voices to be heard that have not been heard, and for those who have been silenced.

Slowly we breathe,

  1. We support a space for those who did not hear or could not listen * or would not listen.

Slowly we breathe,

  1. We support a space for deep and loving reconciliation * for feminine and masculine voices to sing in unison again.

Slowly we breathe,

  1. We support a space for words that will inspire a thousand years of deeds * that will make a difference.

Slowly we breathe,

  1. We support a space for faith that enables us to change who we are * and be the loving transformation the greater “we” wants us to be. 

Slowly we breathe,

  1. We support a space to feel the curiosity, to give our names, to add our effort * to leave a loving impression for millennia to come.

Slowly we breathe,

May we become this psalm of change, amen.


I am grateful to Lillie Allen of Be Present for creating and holding a space where I could write this psalm.

Psalm of Change is offered to those who have signed The Mary Manifesto as a way to guide our work.

Posted in Episcopal, Nature, Poems, Prayer | Comments closed
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