As a member of the Cambridge group of the Association of Christian Writers we were invited towrite about a dream in which Jesus appears. At first, I could not think where to go with that challenge. An idea gradually formed and turned into this poem.
I dream of a conversation
with Christ, whom I recognize
by the scars in his hands as he gestures
towards the vivid night sky.
We are sat on a rock in a desert
with the moon a sliver, so slight,
that it barely makes any impact
on the stars, with their tremulous light.
I hear myself say to my Saviour
‘Were you really there when all this
burst out of a void, prior to history
when substance streamed from an abyss?’
‘I was’, said a voice, calm and gentle,
‘It was turbulent! Matter and light
poured into space-time in a moment,
as Our Word breathed forth length, breadth and height’.
