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There’s not a cloud in the bright blue sky,
as I look up high,
What do I spy?

A rosy, red breasted robin,
shows deep, deep longing.

As it darts all around,
without making a single sound,
a friendly face it has found.

Landing lightly on a cherry tree,
and looking straight down at me.

White cherry blossom gently swaying on the trees,
laden with the promise of red juicy cherries.

I see and salute you Mr Magpie,
as you look down from the bright blue sky,
with your bright beady eye.

Next I see you walking on the garden wall,
so very proud and tall.

Two red kites flying side by side,
a perfect pair, they gently glide.

Higher and higher in the bright blue sky,
looking down as they fly,
the light, whispering wind gives a gentle sigh,
as our dear Lord looks down from on high.

By Maria Burns

On my daily walk I go,
completely solo,
it is so very quiet and still,
as I walk towards the water mill.

Taking in the clean fresh air,
without a single care,
I walk all around,
there’s not a single sound.

But wait, I can hear birds,
in the quiet they can now be heard,
such beautiful, sweet songs,
this is what my dear heart longs.

Beautiful butterflies flutter by,
as gently as the softest sigh.

Strangers pass that I do not know,
they smile and say ‘hello’,
so different to the old days,
in so many ways.

Before, talking to a stranger,
would perhaps signal danger.

But now it is the norm,
this is the new form,
as we zigzag past,
ever so fast.

Lest we catch Covid-19,
we are careful not to lean,
close towards each other,
unless it’s your mother, father, sister or brother (*).

These are strange times indeed,
we need to believe,
and put our trust in the good Lord,
for He is our guardian and mighty sword.

I used to be distracted nearly every day,
but now I am at peace in every single way,
as I appreciate newly discovered nature all around,
when before I was simply too busy to hear its wondrous sound.

By Maria Burns
(*) Always check government guidelines for latest advice.

I open my eyes, what do I see?
Our good Lord smiling down at me.

I see a hive of busy bees,
working as quickly as can be,
to make wholesome honey for you and me.

A bright, bold sun without a cloud in sight,
Wild birds soaring up high in flight.

Happy, singing skylarks flying from tree to tree,
Singing sweetly for you and me.

Among the tall, great trees,
to share with all those like you and me,
Who wish to be set free.

I have a deep desire to write my poetry down,
While sitting here in Lock-down.

With a soft sigh,
I look up to the bright, blue sky,
as a silent stream meanders by.

As I sit quietly here,
I feel my sweet Lord is near.

There’s more to come,
For our dear Lord is not yet done.

His wondrous help is at hand,
For all our great land.

By Maria Burns

Oh springtime what a sight it is,
Oh springtime what a sight it is,
Coming from above,
Falling down on us.

The world spinning in the universe,
The blossoms falling from heavenly hands,
All colours in creation like snow.
Still falling, falling.
Like a rainbow in the sky.
Cheering all of us like angels,
Swivelling, Swivelling in the sky.

Still falling unto us,
To pat on our cheeks while passing by.
Soft as cotton, light as feather touching us.
Giving a fragrant note saying I love you.
We stay in that moment of fragrance and colour to say.

By Shanthi Fernando 

Twas late in ‘19 when the virus began
Bringing chaos and fear to all people, each land.

People were sick, hospitals full,
Doctors overwhelmed, no one in school.

As winter gave way to the promise of spring,
The virus raged on, touching peasant and king.

People hid in their homes from the enemy unseen.
They YouTubed and Zoomed, social-distanced, and cleaned.

April approached and churches were closed.
“There won’t be an Easter,” the world supposed.

“There won’t be church services, and egg hunts are out.
No reason for new dresses when we can’t go about.”

Holy Week started, as bleak as the rest.
The world was focused on masks and on tests.

“Easter can’t happen this year,” it proclaimed.
“Online and at home, it just won’t be the same.”

Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, the days came and went.
The virus pressed on; it just would not relent.

The world woke Sunday and nothing had changed.
The virus still menaced, the people, estranged.

“Pooh pooh to the saints,” the world was grumbling.
“They’re finding out now that no Easter is coming.

“They’re just waking up! We know just what they’ll do!
Their mouths will hang open a minute or two,
And then all the saints will all cry boo-hoo.”

“That noise,” said the world, “will be something to hear.”
So it paused and the world put a hand to its ear.

And it did hear a sound coming through all the skies.
It started down low, then it started to rise.

But the sound wasn’t depressed.
Why, this sound was triumphant!
It couldn’t be so!
But it grew with abundance!

The world stared around, popping its eyes.
Then it shook! What it saw was a shocking surprise!

Every saint in every nation, the tall and the small,
Was celebrating Jesus in spite of it all!

It hadn’t stopped Easter from coming! It came!
Somehow or other, it came just the same!

And the world with its life quite stuck in quarantine
Stood puzzling and puzzling.
“Just how can it be?”

“It came without bonnets, it came without bunnies,
It came without egg hunts, cantatas, or money.”

Then the world thought of something it hadn’t before.
“Maybe Easter,” it thought, “doesn’t come from a store.
Maybe Easter, perhaps, means a little bit more.”

And what happened then?
Well….the story’s not done.
What will YOU do?
Will you share with that one
Or two or more people needing hope in this night?
Will you share the source of your life in this fight?

The churches are empty – but so is the tomb,
And Jesus is victor over death, doom, and gloom.

So this year at Easter, let this be our prayer,
As the virus still rages all around, everywhere.

May the world see hope when it looks at God’s people.
May the world see the church is not a building or steeple.
May the world find Faith in Jesus’ death and resurrection,
May the world find Joy in a time of dejection.
May 2020 be known as the year of survival,
But not only that –
Let it start a revival.

By Kristi Bothur provided by Helen Western

I close my eyes, what do I hear?
God’s sweet loving breath brush my ear.

I hear the soft drip of water gently fall onto a leaf,
with wondrous and welcome relief.

I hear soft, delicate butterfly wings,
as a happy nightingale sweetly sings.

I close my eyes, what do I hear?
God telling me to have no fear.

I hear Mother Nature all around,
it truly is the sweetest of all sounds.

I hear blades of grass sway gently with crickets,
As busy, brown mice play in the thickets.

I hear birds fly and soar high above,
and my heart swells with love,
For I hear God whisper to me from above.

I close my eyes, what do I hear?
Tales of goodwill as those selflessly help others who are ill.

I close my eyes, what do I hear?
That peace and harmony will soon be here.

Trust in our good Lord,
so that we may afford,
A spring full of new hope and cheer,
That the world will no longer have any fear.

Maria Burns

It’s the simple things I appreciate Father;
The smell of a soft summer’s day.
Walking barefoot amongst freshly cut grass,
Rainbow raindrops that taste of wine…

It’s the small things that I notice Father;
The little ladybug crawling along my arm,
One white feather drifting down from Heaven
The scent of Jasmine in the air…

When doubt wages war on my soul,
During adversity and terror,
When fallen angels lay battered and broken,
You appear before me; my salvation,
My Lord and saviour…

When doubt wages war on my soul,
During adversity and terror,
When fallen angels lay battered and broken,
You appear before me; my salvation,
My Lord and saviour…

Mary Kate Kendall

With my eyes I look through the kitchen window.
What can I see and what can I hear,
Or what can I feel after this in my mind;
Gift of seeing , a gift of hearing,
A creator saying ‘I love you’

This first few days of the springtime,
What did I see with my eyes.
The leafs about to come out.
Getting ready for spring dance.
Nice and still waiting for the winter curtains to be lifted.
What an uplifting time it is,
Let’s go out and greet them ‘The Spring season’.

Let’s dance moving our hands,
like the branches in the springtime.
To celebrate a spring dance.
Where it was dressing up and rejuvenating in Winter.
Let our life be like the branches.
A winter has passed.
We have each other’s like the trees.
A network of roots to secure to the ground.
The Sun above looking at the trees,
Seeing them growing.
Lord above us seeing our needs,
We grow hand in hand,
Loving each other.
Oh nature, Oh nature,
Loving every moment,
Thanking the Lord,
Eyes gazed to heaven.
  S.F

Lockdown

Fr Paul wished to share this beautiful poem of hope with you at a time when there is much fear in the world. God Bless.

“Yes there is fear.
Yes there is isolation.
Yes there is panic buying.
Yes there is sickness.
Yes there is even death.
But,
They say that in Wuhan after so many years of noise
You can hear the birds again.
They say that after just a few weeks of quiet
The sky is no longer thick with fumes
But blue and grey and clear.

They say that in the streets of Assisi
People are singing to each other across the empty squares,
keeping their windows open so that those who are alone
may hear the sounds of family around them.
They say that a hotel in the West of Ireland
Is offering free meals and delivery to the housebound.

Today a young woman I know is busy spreading fliers
with her number through the neighbourhood
So that the elders may have someone to call on.
Today Churches, Synagogues, Mosques and Temples
are preparing to welcome and shelter the homeless,
the sick, the weary.

All over the world people are slowing down and reflecting
All over the world people are looking at their neighbours in a new way
All over the world people are waking up to a new reality
To how big we really are.
To how little control we really have.
To what really matters.
To Love.

So we pray and we remember that Yes there is fear.
But there does not have to be hate.
Yes there is isolation.
But there does not have to be loneliness.
Yes there is panic buying.
But there does not have to be meanness.
Yes there is sickness.
But there does not have to be disease of the soul
Yes there is even death.
But there can always be a rebirth of love.

Wake to the choices you make as to how to live now.
Today, breathe.
Listen, behind the factory noises of your panic
The birds are singing again
The sky is clearing,
Spring is coming,
And we are always encompassed by Love.
Open the windows of your soul
And though you may not be able to touch across the empty square,
Sing.”

Fr. Richard Hendrick, OFM March 13th 2020

If you have any inspiring stories or poems – do send let us know…