Kevin Rice Poems

How can it be that you are there
Quiet, hidden and at peace
In the long still silence of the monastery cell
And then, joyful and clamorous
...

The winding road that leads the traveller home
Goes down through bluebells into evening
Where his place of rest
Waits where the sun now sets
...

We met him on the road,
The two of us
And we three, being weary,
Found us a nearby inn
...

From time to time
I open up the box of keepsakes
Abandoning the customary round
To browse the printed memories
...

Did you awaken gently,
Slow as the morning easing out the night
And, lifting the shroud, arise then
In the darkness wrapped in stone?
...

On this bright morn the birdsong is a prayer
Chimed across the Norwich fields and meadows
Chorused in jubilation,
Spreading its beauty
...

He sees the rising sun
And lifts the seed
Setting the sling in place
The breeze weighs perfectly
...

Is anything more beautiful than this
To walk light-hearted in the morning wood
Where air and all the elements
Await expectantly
...

It's you, O, Lord
Who writes the words
Which fill the pages
Of the book
...

Am I secure in silence?
Am I safe
When I am still?
Is there peace in repose?
...