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notes from a small vicar
from a parish
in Liverpool, UK
Wednesday, March 21, 2007When I drive my Ford Mondeo ladies' car (well, the only people I know who own them are girls). But for now he's Mr Everyman, he runs a Ford Mondeo. Anyway it's stood him in good stead, Peter, as he's written a great poem reflecting on this year's Greenbelt theme, called When I drive my Ford Mondeo. He assures me that it's entirely safe, but whilst driving he manages to observe a lot of very close details of everyday life: The landscape sucks me in; / Everything appears in microcosm, he writes. And at the end of the poem, this is how he answers the question Where’s God?:
She just walked past you, actually,
Smiling at the kids,
Remarking to their Mums how well behaved they are.
He was wiping tables at the café,
Asking after you, funnily enough.
She was taking her younger brother to the park
So Mum could have a break.
He was opening a door
For an old couple to enter Boots.
In the grit, in the grime
In the mundane joy
Of washing dishes,
Hoovering the house, wiping baby’s bottoms,
Visiting the sick, listening to the lonely.
Often out of sight
Infamously working with a kind word
Whispered in passing.
An understood look between friends;
An arched eyebrow between lovers.
As we scratch beneath the make-up
Of our raw lives,
Tenderness and compassion
If we look hard enough
Into the magic and mystery
Of the routine and humdrum.
[If you'd like to see the whole poem, drop me a line and I'll put you and Peter in touch]