Gillian Commerford Poems

What is of value
is not what
you might think-
a roughened stone
...

and so we think we know
but what do we know? -
The greater mysteries
are still a mystery
...

Our lives stutter
beneath the stammering of tongues
the hammering
of blood and bone and muscle
...

I begin to see God as Mother
as the one who holds me to Her breast
as the one who nurtures
as the one in whose arms
...

To be with any growing child
is to realize
that the moon is astounding
that a snail is a miracle
...

Colours fade and memories too-
Though I try
I keep forgetting you.

But every now and then
...

Between You and I God
the long argument continues
I cannot worship You
without fear
...

I began in the beginning
in my mother's womb.
What was it like?
Like a warm happy room
...

The first time I saw you
you were walking on the sea.
I took off my shoes and followed.

The second time I saw you
...