Welsh Cakes Blog No Longer Active

I will not be writing anymore posts on this blog.

I have a new blog titled Contemplative without a Cloister.
http://judith-lawrence.blogspot.com

This will be to supplement my new book, Highway of Holiness: Soul Journey, which is available at http://wipfandstock.com

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Hallelujah

We who set our hope on Christ
Live for the praise of His glory.
(Paraphrase: Ephesians 1:12)

I will praise the Lord for waking me to this new day
With all its hope and promise.
We who set our hope on Christ
Live for the praise of His glory.
I will praise the Lord for opening my eyes to this new day
To see the sky lighten in the east from whence comes the Son of Man.
We who set our hope on Christ
Live for the praise of His glory.

I will praise the Lord for opening my ears to this new day
To hear the birds sing their morning praise to God.
We who set our hope on Christ
Live for the praise of His glory.

I will praise the Lord for opening my hands to this new day
To feel the textures of creation: the grass and stone and earth.
We who set our hope on Christ
Live for the praise of His glory.

I will praise the Lord for opening my nose to this new day
To smell the scents of nature’s bounty: the flowers and the rain.
We who set our hope on Christ
Live for the praise of His glory.

I will praise the Lord for opening my mouth to this new day
To taste the nourishment of harvest: water, bread and berries sweet.
We who set our hope on Christ
Live for the praise of His glory,
Live to thank him for His gifts,
Live to thank him for His bounty.
Hallelujah! Praise the Lord, O my soul!

Book Trailer: Highway of Holiness: Soul Journey

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Creation Unfolds

"The entire world is a divine scripture unfolding like cosmic prayer."
Entering the Castle by Caroline Myss

As all creation unfolds
Energy explodes in prayer.

The butterfly emerging
From the chrysalis
Opens its wings and
Flies aloft in prayer.

Bulbs’ leaves push through
The lately snow-covered
Ground and petals
Open in flowers of
Crocus, daffodil,
Lily and hyacinth.




Baby birds emerge from
Eggs and fledge from
Nests in a matter of days.
Young wild animals
Mature in a matter of months.


They write creation
On the forest floor
Flora and fauna alike
Unfold in cosmic prayer.




Humans, evolving into
Spiritual beings, unfold
Slowly and steadily,
Their souls open to
God like lotus petals
In the morning sun.

Book Trailer: Highway of Holiness: Soul Journey

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Glory

Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Christ is risen from the dead.
His tomb is empty—
An angel sits where laid Christ’s head.
Christ is walking in the garden
He will speak your name.
If you seek him, he will be with you;
He will reveal himself to you.
Talk to him and he will answer;
Follow him and he will lead you,
In the way that you should go.
Hallelujah! Christ is risen,
Christ is risen from the dead.

Book Trailer: Highway of Holiness: Soul Journey

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Hummingbird Watch

I waited and watched
from the middle of April.
I knew it was too early.

It hung there
like a red jewel
reflecting the sun’s rays.

I replenished its strawberry shape
with fresh sweet-water
every few days.


One week into May
I heard the hum of his wings
and saw him in his ruby-throated splendor.

He was the first of many to come -
the expected one -
the harbinger of summer’s migration.

He stopped only for strength
for the journey,
then pressed on further north.

Others will come and stay until September,
when their departure
will herald the coming of winter.

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Trailer for Highway of Holiness: Soul Journey by Judith Lawrence coming soon

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Easter Garden

In the garden
Where I wept
Jesus called my name.

Rowan Tree

A Conversation between Christ and the Rowan Tree

O Rowan Tree, weep not for me.
Limb on limb, I lie outstretched,
Thou hold’st me up in thine own arms,
Thou cradlest me from birth.
Weep not, weep not, O Rowan Tree,
Weep not for me.

O Christ, I can’st but weep for Thee,
I sorrow to be the instrument of torture for Thy limbs.
My tears pour down in steady flow,
The sap pours from my wounds,
Where nails have held Thee fast to me.
I did but wish to cradle Thee as in the manger days,
And now I weep from guilt.
Sorrowing, I weep for Thee.

O Rowan Tree, thou should’st not weep,
The sin is man’s not thine.
See, here, I bless thy flowing tears
And make them drops of wine.
Blood red, henceforth, thy berries be,
Thy berries, red as blood,
Thy tears, blood red as wine,
Wine red, as my own blood.

Quiet Moment

My spirit cannot gain a quiet moment,
It cannot hear your voice out in the world
Amongst the mighty torrent that surrounds it
From morning radio blare to traffic roar.
Too many images bombard my tired eyes
And holiness is lost
Within the tragic sights
Of murder, war, and cruelty on nightly news.

A breath of quiet calls me to the wilderness
To heal my inward ears and eyes;
To give my soul and spirit rest
In open desert and oasis shade.
I pitch my tent beneath the spacious skies
And count the heavenly bodies bright above.
Each star pronounces healing to my troubled sighs
Through the Creator’s vast and wondrous love.

Here in the wilderness, my restless anguish is released.
My soul and body, mind and spirit
Open to renewal, like flowers in the sun;
I am freed to see and hear the truth again.
I prepare to walk into the world once more
To offer myself in God’s service,
To give myself in Christ’s love.
Here I am, receive me; here I am, send me.

Desert Sands

Desert sands call to us
Oases bring us rest and shade;
Lenten hours of quiet time
Renew us in our faith.

Forty Days of Wilderness

Forty days of wilderness
You ask of me, Lord;
What is it I am to seek?
What is it I am to find?

Forty days of wilderness
You give to me, Lord;
What will be your gift to me?
What will be your treasure?

I desire to seek you Lord;
I desire to find you.
You give the gift of your presence, Lord,
That will be my treasure.

Lenten Pilgrimage

I follow Christ in desert places
And there I find fresh springs.
I am led by the Holy Spirit
To search out my journey’s path;

I am a pilgrim in wilderness ways.

In desert’s scorching days
I seek the Sacred One;
In desert’s coldest nights
I search out the Divine;
In desert’s oases I seek the Holy One
And I am given rest and refreshment.

I am a pilgrim in wilderness ways;
I am a pilgrim on desert paths.

Christ's Wilderness

In the wilderness
Alone with the Father,
Christ searched his thoughts,
His heart, his soul.
For forty scorching days,
For forty freezing nights,
Christ searched for truth and honesty.
The devil taunted, tempted him,
Christ withstood it all.
Tired, hungry but stronger
Christ turned from the wilderness pause.
He faced his destiny,
Ready to do God’s will.
Angels supported him;
Disciples learned from him;
People flocked to him and were healed.

March Winds

March winds blow strong
Through the forest
Cleaning out cobwebs
And debris from last
Year’s activities of nature.


Loose branches,
Dead leaves,
Birds’ nests
From summer building,
Fall to the ground and
Blow into the hedgerows.

Holy Spirit Wind blows strong
Driving out evil
From our midst, preparing
Desert paths for Christ to come.

Forgotten sins
Are remembered,
Forgiveness asked
And received.
Lenten pilgrimage is walked
Through the desert gritty sands.

March winds cleanse the earth,
Holy Spirit’s breath
Cleanses our souls,
Preparing us for Christ’s
Resurrection
And oasis of new life
Planted in our souls.
Thank the Lord for oasis of new life,
Planted in our souls.

© Judith Lawrence

A Tale of Two Times

For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:
A time to throw away stones, and a time to gather stones together.
Ecclesiastes 3:1, 5

In my youth
I threw away the stones
That impeded my progress.

The stones of family,
Which held me down:
The stone of a mother’s love,
Which I thought was hate
Because it hurt.
The stone of a father’s love,
Because I didn’t understand
His need of me.

The stone of religion,
Because I’d outgrown it.

The stone of country
Because I moved away
To a land more large and free.

*

In my maturity
I gather the stones together again
To build a home.

The stones of family
And ancestors:
The stone of a mother’s love,
Cleansed of late
With tears of understanding.
The stone of a father’s love,
Redeemed by the love and care
Of a surrogate father.

The stone of religion,
Split into gems innumerable
With many facets, polished into brilliance,
Reflecting God’s spirit in my life.

The stone of my country,
My Celtic heritage,
Given pride of place in my new home
Of Canada.

*

The stones
I threw away in my youth,
I now gather
In my maturity,
To prepare a dolmen,
A holy dwelling,
For my soul’s eternity.

The Spinning Wheel

The foot moves
The foot treadle moves
And the wheel is turned.
The wheel turns
The spinning wheel turns
And the thread is spun.
The hands hold the thread
The fingers pull the thread
And the wool is spun.
Beige wool spun
To be dyed bright colours,
Dyed in nature’s colours
Of beets and carrots,
Of autumn leaves,
Of red and gold.
And her foot pumps the treadle
And the spinning wheel turns
And her hand pulls the thread,
She pulls life’s thread
She spins life’s thread
Accepts life’s thread of beige.
Beige life spun
To be dyed bright colours,
Dyed in life’s colours
Of blood and sun,
Of friendship’s gift,
Of red and gold.

Morning Moon

This morning when the sky was getting light,
The moon—cream coloured,
Round-shaped—a disc, a ball,
Sat above the trees.
The sun was not yet above the horizon
But would soon be,
For the sun was lighting the sky
But without blue,
Not yet blue.

Open and Receive

Open you mind to the new,
Open your arms to the gifts,
Open your reach to the fullest,
Open your imagination to the possibilities,
Open your anima to the future.

Receive peace from love of one another,
Receive enjoyment from togetherness,
Receive triumph from the stars,
Receive empowerment from the Universe,
Above all reach out in love.

A Moment Of Time

In the time it takes to say, I love you,
You can speak a word of fear.
It takes no longer to make someone smile,
Than it takes to bring a tear.

How long does it take to make someone laugh?
No longer than to make him cry.
Why not choose, then, to love instead of hate,
Bring smiles instead of sighs?

The sound of laughter will thrill you too,
And be music to your ears.
It takes no longer to love than to hate
And the joy will last for years.

Mastermind

Who masterminded this plan—
The plan that says,
Step out on a limb and walk?
And why do I obey this plan,
This foolish plan,
When I know I’ll surely fall?

Is it that I know from past experiences
That when I step out on a limb
The branch will hold; or if it breaks
Someone will break my fall,
And stand me upright on the ground
Unharmed, to find some new delight?

Who masterminded this foolishness,
This crazy, wild, adventurous plan?
And why do I not follow someone
With a plan more sensible and sane?

Is it because I am just as crazy,
Wild and adventurous as the mastermind?
After all, am I not fashioned
In God’s own image?

Horseshoes

Like horseshoes, tossed by old men
on a summer's day,
and left on the village green
until their next meeting,



so the snow rings,
abandoned by Wind,
circle the tree trunks
after his wild winter game,
to await his blustery return.

Dragon Caves

The damp dark coolness
of dragon-laired mountain caves
beckons to the strong of heart.




Holding lanterns high
their way is lit before them
deep within the craggy walls.
Unafraid of tales
of fire-breathing monsters
lurking there,
they will refresh themselves
at springing waters
flowing from cavernous rock.

Life's Maze

Where does this path lead?
Is there any purpose
in meandering this walk,
this maze?

High hedges obscure
my view of where I've been
and where I want to go.

Will it, in the end, arrive
at the place I want to be?
or does it circle round and round,
this path, this maze?