This is a companion poem to the Holy Saturday Poem that I posted a while ago.

The new, companion poem is partly inspired by a TV programme called The Pitt. (Spoiler Alert).

It’s set in the emergency ward of a hospital in Pittsburgh. This particular scene concerns an elderly man who is dying. His daughter is distraught and cannot let go, and keeps insisting that the doctors do more to save him, including intrusive procedures that simply keep him alive.

In the end, the siblings accept that they need to let their father go. Doctor Robbie, (played brilliantly by Noah Wylie) tells about four things that another wise doctor taught him. Four things that they could say to their father. I love you; thankyou; I forgive you; please forgive me.

These words unlock memories and emotions that allow them to be able to say goodbye.

In my prayer time today, I was reflecting on our lives now. In retirement, the pressure of work is no longer there. It’s not exactly ‘an empty day’ as in the Holy Saturday poem, but this is a different season of life. There’s a looking back element, as well as reflecting on the future. But in the end, it’s about living in the here and now.

A quieter time, with more space to simply ‘be.’
More space to listen.
More space to see the presence of Christ.
And God willing, to be the presence of Christ in some small way.

Here are the two poems.

Holy Saturday

Today is an empty day.
Yesterday was full
of waiting; for a trial to end;
a judgement to be given.

Following in his footsteps,
but only so far
and no further.

Behind the corner of a building,
I peer round
and draw back.
Fearful of being seen

Later I am told.

Today is an empty day.
Tomorrow will be full
of something
I cannot quite name.

The questions almost
shroud the wonder.
But in the end,

there is a room where we meet.
No more hiding
from myself

And he is there.

Holy Wednesday

Today is a quiet day.
Yesterday was full
of working; for an ending;
a judgement to be given.

Following in his footsteps
as far as I could,
and further if you showed me

It was enough to be like the teacher.
Listening
to the voice.
Seeing and being seen.

Shepherding the fold

Today is a quiet day.
Tomorrow will be full
of something
I cannot quite name.

Will the questions
still shroud the wonder
in the end ?

There is a place where we will meet.
No more hiding;
face to face

And he is there