Love and the Island of Caves
Love and masks in an urban area
in the time of covid-19 lockdown
We have come to this place
where we are real to each other only
Facing each other in Plato’s cave
Everyone else a masked shadow
passing. In the lilies above our bed
the flowers fade and there are only the spaces,
macabre faces in a slow dance of fear.
Most real to us are the shafts
of sunlight in the bougainvillea
mixing crimson with potato-bush blue
the chirruping choir of sparrows
and the chew-chit of the collared sunbird,
as lost as we in their new freedom.
Voices of neighbours unrhythm our morning
Laughter across the yards invade us
dislocated nouns and verbs fall about us,
diffusing. Memory and pain pour from us
as we eucharist at home.
Strangely we discover a life we once knew
The machine hums and fabric and cottons colour a table
Pens and pastels wash through paper
Meals are conjured and senses savoured
And we play.
In the streets we haste past strangers
in the dawn glow
At dusk images of our children and theirs
arise and fade into untouching loneliness
Our friends die and eddy into the silent clouds
Touching and tasting puts the world under siege
Now it is only you my love
For this we had chosen each other
In that distant time of freshness and promise
For only our love serves and saves
In this island of caves.
Bob Commin 2020
Cheryl Gammon, a mathematics teacher, wife and mother reading the poem See his blood upon the Rose by Joseph Mary Plunket (1916)
Dorian Haarhoff poet and storyteller shares a story during these covid-19 days.
Come O Fire and Flame Of divine Love And burn away the chaff of our lives Speak to us that we may speak to others Enlighten us that we may enlighten others And set us on fire with love for one another through Jesus the Christ Amen
Welcome to this reflection through poetry, art and music, on loss, memory and healing in the wake of the pandemic This has been a difficult time for so many people. The Covid 19 pandemic has robbed us of opportunities to honour our loved ones who died during such a long period of isolation. Two members …
St Paul’s Anglican Church RondeboschWhen my little family and I returned from England in August of 1989, the country was burning. People were out on the streets everywhere in protest against the apartheid government. We were ready to endure whatever happened along with our many friends. Within a few months of our arrival everything changed …
Hi and Welcome, I suggest you begin by listening to the poem first, then read the article and enjoy the poem again at the end. Stay Safe and well, Bob St Francis and the Sow by Galway Kinnell (1980) is one of my favourite poems. I think it is where my theology has reached through …