The Flax Field

This poem was written in appreciation of Rev. William Macmillan who was laid to rest on
23 01 2020 at Dunmurry NonSubscribing Church Northern Ireland.

The Flax Field

On its girth a corpse of trees

The stead was high

Stood like guards at its edge

Inward they appeared protective

Outward they hold back the wind

In its gust it swayed

Towering watchful over us

Took in the air our lungs expelled

And drank it in – a unity begun

A life alpha and omega spun

The dialogue was spiritual

of the ever giving earth

Ecumenism one of God

I heard the whispers grow loud

Speaking oneness in the world

Each life a gift precious

And sharing grace and worship

For the years it has to unfold

That wonder to behold

Not profit on another’s loss

Our ways are rooted

Where we are born

Everyday given a vision

With a boundary our horizon

From the Valley or the mountain

A day encountered another promised

Each shall see alone

Where shadows fall the light dims

The whirl of spinning earth

Arrives in that same place

John Graham

The Irish Bells

23 January 2020