Work in the NHS. Writes about childhood Family and spirituality from a council estate setting. Husband for 26 years 3 grown up children acting as adults. Nurse Consultant in end of life care. A trained CBT therapist. First book of poetry out published by Mudfog November 2012.
A Jesus and Joseph moment Dad, does God whisper meanings in our dreams? The kids outside called me a bastard! They said you were not my father. They said things about Mam horrible words sharp as thorns. They surrounded me and chanted: your cousin’s a lunatic out in the wilderness making crooked paths straight. Thick as a brick soldier’s dick get back to Egypt. They said it was my fault their brothers were killed when they were babies. I closed my eyes and heard their thoughts in the wind. I wrote their sins in the sand and they pissed on me. Son, dreams of what might be move close and collide sometimes one becomes the other. I was asleep tossing and turning about a decision. I was told not to worry and marry your mother. Remember the three men I told you about who brought gifts? On camels foreign accents charts of all the stars in the sky? They were warned in a dream not to return to the king but go home by a different way. I was exhausted after cleaning out the stable for the inn keeper. Fell into a deep sleep you in my arms next I knew voices shouting for God’s sake take the child fly to Egypt keep him safe. I was drunk on dreams my head spinning wondering what to believe which world was more real. Then I was told to return set up this shop here in Nazareth. Let’s dry your hair the smell’s gone. Your hands and the wood go well together good rhythm light as a breeze if you have a mind for it. Stay away from making up stories. They won't allow a carpenter's son to read the scrolls in a synagogue. You scared us when we couldn’t find you in Jerusalem. We shouldn’t have worried you were entertaining the priests with difficult questions. One said your thought was a light in the darkness. Others were suspicious and said you were going to be trouble. There is one dream I keep having you are arrested your mother’s crying and everyone's mocking you. It keeps happening the sound of soldiers marching door banging leather creaking blades clanging uniforms at the door. Demanding crosses for our own people no money I can’t bear to look up at my handiwork along the roadside. Remember you said how heavy the cross joint was on your shoulders? Go to sleep. I’ve told you what happened to my hand a thousand times. Stop grinning it wasn’t funny. I was making a table for a rabbi and his disciples you came up behind me and asked: is God my father can I feel a presence? I was distracted wondering if anyone had heard you. I didn’t want to be up before the rabbi again. Put the blade straight through my palm blood everywhere God it hurt. I shouted it’s complicated go ask your mother.
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