Category pychology

West of Caritas

“The Conversion of Saul” by Michelangelo, Pauline Chapel fresco, Vatican City.

 

This “I” we each inherit, made spine

of the world, axis, pole,

look-out from the world’s helm

gazing on the universe,

gazing on you,

gazing on death…

 

“Mummy,” I said,

seven or eight years old,

“I have decided

that I am God.”

We were walking east

along Glebe Road

towards the… Continue reading West of Caritas

A Sentence Called Humanity

Centaur

The centaur belongs in Greek myth and is part horse, part human. Some aspects, or strands, of the story portray the centaur as teacher, and as having healing powers.

The photograph here is of the Uffington White Horse. It can be found in Oxfordshire, ten miles east of Swindon… Continue reading Centaur

Gathering Fruit

The Widow

 

Here is another poem of loss and it’s called “The Widow” (the title links to it). I wrote it some years ago, in sorrow for the grief of the person concerned, but also in awe at how she voiced her bereavement, the words she reached for, and… Continue reading The Widow

A White Shirt Writ Large in the Rose Garden

Dear MP’s Office Manager,

Thank you for your earlier response and yes, please, I would like to hear the Cabinet Office’s response to your news, that by the 26th May you had already received 1500 emails concerning Mr Cummings.

I need to report that the responses I’ve heard so far… Continue reading A White Shirt Writ Large in the Rose Garden

Trace a Fraught Frontier

Where’s the fraught frontier between

Mercia and East Anglia ? Guards were stationed here

gazing out from within. And within

was somewhere to die for. And without

was someone to kill. I explored it once,

that fraught frontier, now footpath

between nettles. It was sunday

and Cambridge families were out walking there

after a good lunch.

And where’s

the fraught frontier between Wales

and the… Continue reading Trace a Fraught Frontier

Learning to Dance with my Shadow that Haunts me

Shall I teach my shadow how I like to dance ? Or must I learn the dance-steps my shadow knows ? Or should we learn a new dance, altogether ? … Continue reading Learning to Dance with my Shadow that Haunts me

Where My Shadow Lives

Britain’s Return to Health

 

I want to talk about the British Labour Party which – despite everything – still occupies the ground I look to for the beginning of this nation’s regeneration and return to health.

But “ground” is one thing ; the withered and stunted vegetation I see presently over-running and littering… Continue reading Britain's Return to Health

Copyright © Rogan Wolf – Poet and Social Worker
In all our sanctuaries we sit at risk

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