MOST RECENT POSTS
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The Hermit's Cell: IONA
This morning a further poem about Iona, that amazing place of pilgrimage off the West Coast of Scotland: the home of The Iona Community who follow in the footsteps of St. Columba's mission to the Scottish mainland - and beyond. A place described as a 'thin' place where earth and heaven touch each other; a place for personal re-evaluation. And on the west side of the island the foundations of a hermit's beehive cell lie in one of the folds of the land. This poem reflects briefly on one of the lives that brought sanctity to that place.
Iona: The Hermit's Cell
From coracle to beehive cell,
Once rudderless upon the tides
Where wind drives the sea
Inexorably before it:
Running, ebbing, flowing,
Thrubbing, drumming, beating
On the tensioned hides.
Holiness at the helm
Then, holiness at the door
Wherever that might be;
To demonstrate
Humility and love;
Poured out, dispersed,
Available to any
Who trust, as he has trusted
In his sovereign Lord above.
Sovereign over land,
Sovereign over sea,
Sovereign over tempest,
Yet pinioned by nails,
Driven to death,
For you, for me.
Then, Risen! Risen! Risen!
Let all the earth rejoice,
Let praise and glory be
To Him who brought the hermit
Safely from the sea.
Other poems about IONA can be found by clicking HERE
